#which like. man. i am always thinking about how scary that night must have been for gale

[warlordfelwinter]

i love that gale tries to change the subject the morning after you try to kill him and you can just change it right back

gale: is there some lighter subject you wished to discuss?

rain: no. i tried to kill you. i'd like to discuss that actually.

[marieracingteam]

A Flower to a Lilybug – ls.18

stepdad!Lance Stroll | series

word count: 1612

summary: The story of how Lance finally met Lily, or the story of how Lawrence became a flower before he became a grandpa.

Lily was just two years old when Lance met her mom, which meant that Lily wasn't really aware of all that was happening in her life.

She knew she had a mum and she knew, somewhere, she had a dad. Dad, however, was never around so she didn't really think much of him or his family, whom Lily had barely met. She also knew that mum had a mum and a dad who lived far away and she only saw once or twice a year and a few more times over the phone.

But that was pretty much all. For Lily, mum was her everything –and for the most part her only thing– for her whole short life.

That was until Lance came through.

Her mum and he had been talking for a whole year before she agreed to start calling their dates dates, but not before he met her daughter and she gave them their blessings.

Lance of course had accepted her pace, how could he not when he knew she was just protecting her daughter and herself after being betrayed by her last partner?

And because he knew how much she needed everything to be perfect, he tried extra hard to make everything perfect on that first day.

Maybe a little too hard.

He had spent long hours thinking about every single detail. He had even asked his father for help like he tended to do.

Maybe that is why he was so nervous when he first met Lily. The now three years old, in response, got also shy, probably sensing the grown-ups expectations.

“Hello Lily. I am Lance, mom’s friend. Mom has told me a lot about you and I wanted to meet you” he said while offering the girl his hand.

“Hi you!” she squealed before running back into the living room where she was playing with some dolls.

However, the dinner had gone more smoothly. At least at first. Lance had relaxed enough to make conversation with the little girl and Lily had quickly forgotten that she didn't know him when he started to ask her about the things she loved.

He had thought about gifting something to the little girl, but his father had told him to not buy the girl with expensive gifts. So instead he had learned to do paper dolls like Lily's mum had told him she loved to do.

Lily was so close to liking him when her mum started to breathe strangely.

“Peanuts” she screamed, grabbing her neck and making Lance run to where she always kept an EpiPen in her bag.

If he hadn't been so worried about the woman swelling up in his backseat, he would have probably been stressed about the crying little girl he had left with his father at home.

Because he loved his father, he truly loved the old men, but he could be scary and he knew he was bringing down his chances of winning the little girl’s heart by the second.

“Sorry, love. The bakery must have mix up the cakes. I don't know how that happened. I am so sorry. I told the man a thousand times to not put any nuts” Lance said again and again while he ran to the hospital.

The woman just laughed at the situation and when Lance looked at her through the rearview she was smiling. He didn't know then, but that was the first time someone had cared so much about her and her daughter.

And Lance didn't have anything to worry about, because back at home his father was doing all the hard work with Lily.

“So…” Lawrence said looking at the little girl who was sitting on the sofa eating ice cream “I heard you like doing paper dolls”

“Yeah” she answered, licking the spoon clean “And you?”

“Not my expertise, but I can see the charm in it”

Lily just looked up at him. When she had calmed down after the old man explained to her that her mom was fine but she needed a bandaid to be perfect, the girl had started to analyze the man.

Her mum had told her beforehand all about her friend and the get-together they were going to have that night, but she didn't expect any of that. Her mother had forgotten to tell her that after dessert they would run out and leave her alone at home with an unknown man.

Lily knew she was just a little girl, but wasn't that what her mother had told her not to do?

“You are weird, Flower” the girl finally said after deciding that she could trust the strange man with the funny name. If her mother trusted him enough to leave her in his care, who was she to not do it?

“Why is that?” Lawrence asked sitting beside her on the couch. 

The girl just shrugged her shoulders. Her mother had taught her that it was wrong to say those things to people, especially older ones. The previous comment had slipped out of her mouth.

In her defense, Lily would say that Lance's dad was strange indeed. Lance too. Her mother's friend had sweaty hands and had dropped his spoon more times than she had. Plus, mom's friend's face turned red all the time. All the times her mom spoke at least.

But Lance's dad was even weirder. All his hair was white, all. Plus he was the oldest person Lily had ever seen, even older than Mom's friend from work who had just turned 40 recently and invited them to her party. The man was tall and was wearing a suit like on TV. Lily had never seen anyone on the streets of her town in Canada wearing one of those outfits beyond the movies.

Plus, Lance's dad had let her eat the ice cream straight out of the container to stop her from crying, which was weird, because her mom never let her do that. But she wasn't going to complain.

“And what is that Flower thing?” Lawrence asked finally.

“Your name, duh” Lily responded with the spoon still in her mouth.

See? Weird. The man had just said that was his name.

“My name is Lawrence” the man corrected.

“Florence,” she said back before making the connection “flower”.

The man laughed a deep laugh that reminded Lily of movie villains. And he looked like one. If he didn't have such a funny name, Lily probably would have been scared of him. “I am not a flower”

“You look like one” the girl responded, sure of her opinion.

“Why is that?” the man pressed, amused at the conversation.

“The white petals” she said pointing at his hair “Do you know how to braid?”

Lawrence laughed again. Lance had told him a lot about the woman he was meeting and had told him some things he was discovering about her daughter, but Lawrence did not expect the pleasant surprise that was meeting first the mother at a gala and then the girl, even if it was under those circumstances.

The mother was polite and affectionate with his son. Lawrence had been doubtful of her at first, as he always used to be when someone new came into their lifes. But at no time had she shown interest or asked for anything in exchange of her company like other used to do. If Lawrence was right, and he usually was, the only reason she was still with Lance was because she was really interested in his son.

And the girl. The girl had been a breath of fresh air.

It had been a long time since Lawrence last was around small children. His children were already grown and despite his insistence, his daughter had not yet made him a grandfather.

Even if the girl wasn't exactly Lance's, if everything went as his son expected that night, this wouldn't be the last time Lawrence would see the girl.

And, at that moment, he felt like it was in his power to help make everything happen that way, even if he himself had shown him his reluctance when he found out that the woman his son was with already had a daughter from a previous relationship.

“Yeah, I do. Do you want one braid?” he offered.

“No” she said still licking the empty spoon.

“Lance also knows how to braid. He is very good at it” lied the man. He didn't truly know why he was doing it but he guessed that he will need the extra help impressing the little girl after almost poisining her mom.

While waiting for her mom to come back, Lily decided the man wasn’t that bad anymore. And he was a flower after all. A flower who had ended up braiding her hair into smalls braids and had cut the paper dolls Lance had brought for her. 

He was still a little weird and a little scary looking but he wasn't that bad.

And he was comfy. She had found that when she laid her braided head in his chest while playing with the dolls. 

And! When her mom asks her tomorrow when she wakeds up on her own bed surrounded by all her plushies, she will say that the flower was a magician. Which was a pretty impressive story.

Even when she had swore she wasn't going to fall asleep until her mom came back, the flower had charm her into sleeping while rubbing her belly, like she did with her mom's friend's puppy.

She may not know a lot about old people or grandparents but the flower wasn't that bad himself. And maybe his son wasn't so bad either.

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 16- Miguel x Villian!Reader (Bondage)

*Requested by reader ;) *

        The age of heroes was long gone, therefore you thought it was safe to play the part of a villain. Not really a villain, per se, you were a thief. Upon reading about how glorious the past thieves and villains were, you wanted to give your life a new thrill. Taking upon the name of, 'Black Cat', you dedicated your nights to stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, or sometimes to your pockets. Which ever gave you more of a high.

"Ohhhhhh, look at those earrings she is wearing! I'm sure she won't notice if I take them~"

"I'm sure she will,"

"No she-Ah!"

        You yelped away from the window, wondering who was talking to you. To your surprise, it was a tall muscular man in a suit. This must have been the big scary Spiderman that everyone was talking about. Your eyes wandered from his head to his toe. He was much finer than the stories you heard. Ain't no way a man like that was single. You swore a lightbulb appeared above your head. There was something new to steal now.

"Don't believe we've officially met, I'm Black Cat, but you can call me Kitty." You said with a wink.

"Gatita? (kitty?)" He repeated. 

        You nearly gasped. He was Spanish too, one of your many weaknesses in a man! Holding your chest, you nearly stumbled. What would happen if you just surrounded yourself to him? Spiderman was a hero, perhaps you can taint him!

"Wow, that just rolls right off the tongue-ahem, anyway, there's no way such a big hero like yourself is here to stop lil ol' me from stealing some earrings, right?"

"No. Just patrolling and saw a shady figure looking to break in."

"I am not shady!" You said with a huff and approached him, "But, I'll be a good kitty tonight and go home. Maybe if we meet again, I can be good to you~" You purred, trailing your finger against his chest.

        You quickly left with a wide grin against your lips. Oh he was so toned! You casually glanced back, hoping that your flirting was good enough. It had been a while since you did something so bold. Well, the mask sure helped.

----------

        Miguel just stood there, wondering what had just happened. Normally he wouldn't let such petty thieves get away without teaching them a lesson, but then again, you didn't steal anything yet. That, and Miguel had not been flirted with in such a long time that he was in shock. Your casual touch against his skin made him tense. You called yourself a good kitty for him. That was something he was going to think about all night.

----------

        As luck would have it, you kept bumping into Spiderman. It was always whenever you were going to steal something petty or for yourself. Never when it was for others. It made you wonder if he was watching what you were stealing. If so, where would he draw the line? It felt like your flirting was working because Spiderman had started to flirt back! Oh, you nearly dropped on your knees the first time he said something so proactive! You nearly folded right then and there for him!

"Not yet, (y/n)! You need to think!"

"(Y/n)? What a pretty name," Spiderman said with a hum. You let out a whine as your cat claws stroked down the wall you were about to climb,

"You're so mean to me!" You teased, facing the tall man, "Are you going to look me up when you get home, huh Spidey?"

"Now why would I want to look up criminals?" He drew closer to you, "Unless you want me too?"

"Tsk, tsk, this kitty won't like that. This game has to be fair."

"I don't play games with thieves." Spiderman hummed lowly, his hand pressed against the wall as he hovered over you, "Now what were you trying to steal this time?" He asked.

        You gave him your best pout, trying to act innocent. Why was this man so attractive!? If only you can match a face with that sexy voice of his. You bit you lower lip as you took notice of the position you were in. This was straight out of a comic book! Argh, if only you weren't restricted by his mask. You would totally kiss him!

"Why don't I let you guess?" You placed a hand against his chest, "If you guess correctly, I'll reward you~"

"I don't play games with-"

"Boo! Perhaps next time you can play with this kitty. I'm flexible~" You whispered in his ear before dashing off.

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

        Miguel inhaled deeply as he watched you scurry off. He kept saying that he did not play games with criminals, yet here he was, letting you run off. Like a game of cat and mouse, only he was a Spider. Miguel groaned lowly as your last words repeated in his mind. Next time he might want that reward you were tempting him with. Next time, he might stop playing games and catch you...Just to see how flexible you really were. It all depends on how you were going to be and what you were going to steal.

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

        This was it! This was really going to test your flirting skills with Spiderman. You might be going too far, but hell, this was for your own amusement. You wanted to steal Spiderman for yourself. Such a fine man deserved to be yours. You could not go to bed without thinking of him being intimate with you. You wanted him! Chuckling to yourself, you stared at the adult store in front of your, waiting for Spiderman to appear.

"What are you doing, gatita?" Spiderman said with a hesitant sigh. You smirked towards him,

"What? Can't even steal myself some relief? I'm tired of being a good kitty~"

"Rel-" Miguel stopped himself, feeling that thin line slowly breaking, "You don't need that."

"Awe~ Why not?" You slowly approached Spiderman, "Remember that game last time? Guess what I'm going to steal and I'll reward you? Well, it will be an extra sweet reward~"

"Fuck," Oh, you weren't expecting that, "I'm done playing games."

        Before you can whine, you yelped as Spiderman fired his webbing towards you. You gasped as both of your hands were stuck to the building. Spiderman drew closer to you, webbing your hands more firmly so your claws couldn't break you free.

"You've been a bad, gatita. I'm going to have to punish you after all," His voice was low and raspy. Did you actually succeed?

"Oh? And how are you-ah~"

        You gasped once more as Spiderman started to rub his fingers against your cunt. The fabric causing a burning friction. You tried to close your legs, but Spiderman raised them and webbed them to the wall as well. This was an embarrassing position! You were completely caught in his web.

"Miguel," He whispered, trailing his fingers against the rip of your pants, "(Y/N), if you want relief so badly, then I'll give it to you."

        Shit, this was actually happening. You felt yourself grow wetter just by him telling you his name. At least now you had something to yell out. Muffling a moan, you whined as Miguel lowered your pants. The bottom half of his mask disappeared as he brought his tongue to your wet pussy. Your eyes widen as your saw fangs. So those rumors were true. Before you could ask him about them, you let out a loud moan as he licked your folds.

"M-Miguel!" You yelped in shock. Miguel just looked up at you thru his mask, licking your wet folds in the process,

"You can't lick yourself here, gatita, so I will." His voice vibrated throughout your body, causing you to shiver in delight.

        You tried to arch your back as he wiggled his tongue all over your pussy. A burning sensation traveling all over your body to your cunt. His hands stroking your legs, making you more sensitive. Miguel raised his head slightly, sucking against your clit. You cried out, feeling your growing pleasure. You felt his smirk as he slid his hand over your cunt, sliding two of his large digits inside of you. That was your final straw as you cam against his hand.

        You whined once more as Miguel kept fucking his fingers into your throbbing pussy, not giving you a chance to rest. His tongue still against your clit, eagerly sucking and licking. This was actually happening. Spiderman was fucking you. Trembling as Miguel curled his finger's inside you, you started to grind your hips against his hand. This was much better than whatever toy you were going to steal. Another gasp came out of you as Miguel started to pump his fingers faster. You wanted these webs off.

"C-Come on, Spidey, I-I'll be a good, ah, kitty, lemme g-go~" You begged, feeling another orgasm forming. Miguel looked at you, freeing your abused clit,

"Don't like it when you're trapped in my web?" He asked, bringing his fangs against your neck, "Gotta tie up criminals. Including bad gatitas." He whispered, sucking against your neck.

        Your whines got tuned out by your moans since Miguel pumped his fingers into your g-spot. Your vision blurred for a second as you cam once more. Miguel removed his fingers, giving them a lick as he freed his large cock. Pre-cum already dripping from his tip. You were brought back to your senses once you laid eyes on it. How was that going to fit? There was no way you could move either.

"Awe, is my gatita scared?" Miguel teased, pressing the tip of his cock against your soaked pussy, "Why don't I give you a reward for not stealing anything?"

"Mhm-Miguel...It's...too hn...b-big," You stuttered, trembling as he slowly slid his cock inside your gummy walls, "D-Does y-your training...including...d-dick growth?" 

"Hah," Miguel almost let out a rare laugh. 

        You wanted to say you were joking, but you weren't. Miguel was so big and thick. You were shaking as you felt your pussy stretch like never before. It hurt at first, but this position was making you adjust quickly. You were spread out like a damn butterfly. Thank god there were no cameras or nearby people. You flung your head back, moaning as you felt his tip hit your cervix. Who knew Spiderman had such a big dick. Who knew it would even fit inside you!

"Fuck, look at that. What a good gatita." Miguel groaned lowly.

        You whined softly as you felt your walls squeeze him. Miguel leaned in to kiss you before beginning his rough thrusts. Your eyes widen as you moaned into the kiss, surprised by his strength. You felt him fuck the breathe right out of your throat. With each thrust, Miguel bruised your cervix. He held your hips, climbing onto the wall to fuck you deeper. If only you could hold onto him. You felt so vulnerable in this position, unable to move. It was like you were just his fuck toy.

        You swore you saw stars as Miguel made you cum again. He grunted as his cock started to get a white ring from your juices. He quicken his pace, causing you to moan from overstimulation. How many more orgasms' was this man going to draw out of you. You started to feel dizzy, but you didn't want him to stop. Hearing another grunt, Miguel held your waist tighter, almost piercing it with his talons. He slammed his dick into you harshly, pouring his cum into your womb.

"That's right, good gatita's like their milk." Miguel panted softly. You just trembled,

"A-Ah~" You moaned lowly, feeling his hot load fill you.

        Miguel waited a moment before pulling out. He watched as a mixture of his cum and your juices rolled down your legs. He freed you from his webbing and fixed your suit. Glancing up at the building before you, he smirked under his mask,

"I'll let you steal just one thing from that store, but I'll have to punish you again." He whispered in your ear, holding your waist close to his. Your body leaned against his, unable to think straight,

"Do you like seeing this kitty all tied up?"

"I'd be lying if I said no."

"Then I'll reward my precious hero and grab more bondage...That doesn't involve sticky webs." You whined, still removing his webs from your suit. Miguel smirked, biting against your neck as he rubbed your pussy again,

"But you enjoy these sticky webs." He poked against your hole, causing you to melt under his touch,

"L-Lemme steal...mhm...something first."

"Yes, my good little gatita."

[jtks-gh05t-g1rl]

My everything.

part one

(this is copied from my Wattpad!)

not many warning besides, swear words, smoking is mentioned, and kinda cheesey or sappy.

.....

.........

............

"what the fuck..?"

I rubbed my eyes to try to get rid of the blurriness. all I could make out was a wood podium; it reminded me of a court , the most important person in the middle, and the others on each side or in front.

I had a throbbing headache. Actually, it was my entire body that was aching. The heat was not helping my case. The only pleasant thing was the smell. It was earthy and smelt, kind of burnt ?, but in a calming way.

I finally got my vision back after a few seconds. In front of me, there were eight men; one of which caught my eye. His hair looked like the night sky right when the sun begins to set, containing hues of blue and purple.. He had the most beautiful eyes, a golden color that was mesmerizing. I noticed the person next to him whispering something to him.

"Oh! You're awake!"

I looked over at a red-haired man. He had a huge grin on his face. He was honestly very intimidating, I would be lying if I said I wasn't panicking.

"what is this? where am i?"

"It's a very long story, but y'know what else is lo-"

"Shut up!"

"Ow! You're gonna bruise my beautiful skin!" A boy with champagne like hair spoke.

"I'm just going to assume I was kidnapped, and now you're going to kill me."

"I promise you, We mean no harm," the Red haired man spoke.

"You are at The Royal Academy of Diavolo, or RAD for short, You have been chosen as an exchange student. You will be studying here for one year, You will also be representing the human realm."

"Human realm?"

"Ah, there are three realms. human realm, or human world, celestial realm, and the demon realm, which you are in currently."

It was completely silent for a couple seconds

....

.....

"are you guys high?"

"goodness no!"

"I'm so confused."

"and my head hurts."

"Barbatos?"

"I am already on it, my lord."

the man I'm assuming to be barbatos handed me a steamy cup of tea. it smelled incredible, I'm beginning to see a pattern.

"To help with your pain."

"Thank you." I said, trying to smile. The pain from all over was distracting.

"Allow me to introduce everyone before we move further."

"I am Lord diavolo, the future king of the devildom."

▪︎Leviathan's POV▪︎

[a few minutes earlier]

"psst, Levi, she was totally staring at you!!" Asmo had just whispered to me .

I gave him a "You're crazy" look. He must be psycho if he thinks someone that pretty would look at me, let alone stare.

I don't even know this girl, but I can already tell she's going to get a lot of attention here. I got an overwhelming wave of jealousy, or maybe even anger, rush over me.

I don't know this human, why do I feel like this? why am I so upset?

lord diavolo had begun to introduce everyone, and I hadn't even noticed. I was too lost in my thoughts. maybe I should stop thinking.

▪︎MC POV▪︎

one lengthy introduction and explanation later I understand what's going on and I know names of the people in front of me. I still could not take my eyes off this gorgeous boy. This is so sappy, but holy shit he's breathtaking.

"So, are you being serious about the three realms? I always thought that was like a fairytale or something."

"That's expected. Yes, we are serious." A man with piercing red eyes, I now know as lucifer, spoke. He was also very intimidating.

"I'm sorry, but all of you are extremely scary." I chuckled nervously.

"Oh sweetie, please. how could I ever be scary!"

"Hello? is she awake?"

"Right on time, solomon!"

"MC this Solomon the other human exchange student."

"Hello, MC!"

"Hi."

"Wait, don't I know you from somewhere? you look so familiar.." I gasped.

"You used to visit the book shop I work at!" I said with a huge smile plastered on my face.

"Yes! You always recommended the best books. Maybe you could recommend more in the future?"

"for sure!"

"MC, Mammon will be giving you a tour of RAD and The House or Lamentation." Diavolo spoke.

"Wha-! Why me?!" Mammon spoke, earning a terrifying stare from lucifer.

"Just kidding! I would be honored!"

"MC, if he causes you any trouble, don't be afraid to report back to me."

"Yes, sir!"

"Wow, mammon. She just got here, and she already has better manners than you!" Leviathan spoke.

▪︎leviathan's POV▪︎

She giggled at my "joke", truthfully, it wasn't a joke. I was a thousand percent serious, but she laughed.

We were all dismissed by Diavolo after mammon and MC had left. I obviously went straight to my room. I changed into something more comfortable, I could not take one more second in that uniform. I was starving, so I started to make my way to the kitchen.

"Y'know you aren't that bad for a human!" mammon told MC. They seem to be getting along well.

mammon to distracted to notice me, so he walked into me.

"Oi! Watch it, Levi!"

"You bumped into me!" Mammon's eyes lit up as if he had the most incredible idea.

"You're right, Levi! I'm sorry!"

"On an unrelated note! Can you finish this tour for me? I'm so exhausted."

"Oh em gee, do you hate me that much?" MC said, giggling.

"Of course not!" he said, running away.

"Well, I guess I don't have a choice."

"Oh my gosh! You like TSL?"

she said, gesturing to my t-shirt.

▪︎MC'S POV▪︎

"O-oh yeah!" the boy said, rubbing his arm.

"I've been a fan for years!"

I started to zone out as the indigo-haired boy went on rambling about his favorite characters and favorite book. staring at his features, thankfully he didn't notice. I didn't mind his rambling. It helped me get to know him better.

"Oh yeah! the tour! sorry, I got distracted."

"No, that's okay. I only just now got into TSL, but you seem to know a lot. Maybe you can tell me more about it later?"

"I would love too- I mean, that would be cool!" he had the most beautiful smile.

"Where have you not seen? What's left of the tour?"

"Oh, uhm, I think I just need to see where I'm staying."

"ok cool! this way." Levi turned on his heels.

.......

......

....

..

.

"Right here!"

"Whoa, this room is really nice."

"It's all yours, I think lucifer said that you'll get all of your things back sometime this week."

"Thank you, levi!" I said smiling.

"No problem! I-I'm gonna get going, uhm, goodnight!"

He walked away before I could say anything.

••••••••••••

1131 words

(if you find typos pls lmk thx lol :p)

[h3rmitsunited]

thinking about dirk getting a couple months into his friendships with Todd and Farah and completely losing his shit and like running away for a week

like listen, this guy is not someone that has lasting connections to people... not to like good friendly people. The Rowdy Three are probably the closest thing he's had to a constant connection over the years and we see how shit that goes for him

so like he goes on cases, he meets some folks, shit gets wacky, maybe some people get hurt, maybe he does weird shit, maybe things end up okay, but nobody ever sticks around

He is always... alone.

That's what he tells Todd. Always alone.

Which means he doesn't have to think about long term, or the impact of his decisions or how relationships go or whatever. These people aren't going to be in his life for long anyways. He's always surrounded by disaster and danger and death, so maybe they'll die before he solves the case.

It's not necessarily callousness, it's survival.

And then suddenly, the Spring case and time travel Dirk tells him, hey this guy's your best friend, and Dirk goes okay cool man

But like what does that even mean to him?

I can see why Dirk wouldn't really think about how Todd would take him keeping the time travel/maybe clone Dirk talking to him in the hall a secret, because like how often do these friendships last? Sure it hurt to hear Todd tell him he deserves to be alone, and he's trying to fix it, but by the hospital, he's sadly resigned to that being it.

"Well, here I am again."

But Todd surprises him by showing up. By saying that he's gonna stick around and then Farah wants to fund his agency and suddenly there's a long term and its exciting but also scary and there's no way this can last

and maybe it's a bit of a whatever when he feels that pull dragging him out to the sidewalk and into Blackwing's clutches because yeah this makes more sense now... he's not supposed to have friends and an agency and people that like him and stability so being rekidnapped, that's more his speed

And sure in blackwing, he's still daydreaming and night dreaming about Todd and Farah and getting out, but how shocking must it have been to actually get out and then have those two people be there waiting for him when he fell out of the trunk

That it wasn't just another restart, another case that brings him to more people with different names and faces and that don't stick around after he finishes the case

It's Todd Brotzman and Farah Black and they're here and they know him and it's crazy, but he's supposed to be the same guy that they knew from the last time he saw them and he doesn't usually have to do that and todds expecting more and he wants to give them what they want but he's never been good under pressure and it's worse now because blackwing and there's too much and people know him and they're there and now people are dying and Mr. Priest is back and everything is bad and Todd is looking at him like he's broken and this is the time that it would be better to just let them take him away again-

He shuts down. He pushes away. It's better to be alone. It's better when people don't know him enough to expect certain thing from him.

But he pushes through because he may be having a breakdown, but hell, he still has enough gumption to finish the goddamn case because he's a fucking detective.

And he does and once again, Todd and Farah are still there

And they open the agency

And its going and they stick around

But that little niggling itch is still there that this isn't going to last, that he doesn't get long term, he doesn't get to keep people

But Todd and Farah are still there and they know more and more about him all the time and knowing him means it's harder to hide the bad parts, the parts he doesn't like and tries to cover with bright colors and eccentric personality and rambling words

And one morning Todd comes in and sets a cup on Dirks desk and it's not coffee because he hates coffee, it's tea from that shop that he likes on the corner that the morning worker knows his name and Todd knows his drink exactly and it's perfect and Farah's left a note on his desk telling him exactly what questions he needs to ask this client at the meeting later because she knows that he'll forget because he always does and Todd looks at him in this way that feels too much

And he excuses himself to the bathroom but instead runs out the backdoor and just bolts because he wasn't expecting to still have this and it's terrifying because it's been this long and he's let himself want this life and now it's going to kill him to lose it and it's going to happen because it always does, so he's just gotta beat it to the punch

And then disappearance and panic and calling in the reinforcement and tracking down dirk and the long exhausting emotional talk about trauma and healing and growing and finding ways to feel safe and todd and farah convince him to come back

And its not fixed but it gets better and it takes time and love and support and fucking therapy man and dirk finds himself gazing at the two most important people in his life and it doesn't make him want to run and he can be okay with the time that he gets with them

[the-acid-pear]

Just had an insane dream where the two main realities were Me Lost In A Maze and Me Being Socially Awkward On Tumblr.

The Tumblr part was somehow more twisted at turns, because there was this one friend who asked me to make a post of them making a joke implying they're available and then a DIFFERENT mutual and friend asked me about them (being a little, tiny bit racist I think too but not maliciously just in the "I have no clue who this man is why do we need to hook up"). As I tried to blow MYSELF up with my mind another mutual bestie announced he was gonna start playing FNAFB, because for the last 3 nights in a row that game has been in my dreams, and this was no exception. His bit was the most calm no talking to me just gaming also FNAFB which is usually an RPG was now a 3D side scroller with these abstract, simple and natural yet dimly lit areas and huge enemies, which i reasoned with saying "must be the final mix, a lot changed in the remake :)". Also he has changed his pfp but not entirely he just upgraded the model which was so silly and jarring 2 me. There's another occurrence but that happens in the maze.

How I ended in the maze I'm not sure. I remember however I was in this like, starting room, and Golden Freddy's head who threatened me (not w yiffying my dick something less scary) and told me to count the pancakes on a woman's plate. I giggled bc i didn't take him seriously, I didn't take most of this too seriously, maybe I signed up here willingly, and aside from going those are like 8 pancakes aren't they? I asked if she'd be the key to leaving to which he didn't answer but I assumed to be true.

From there I started running down these backroom pools eske places like these long tiled halls with cool blueish lighting. I saw a lot of faces I knew but I can't recognize the main girl who was grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me along. When I think of it too hard I think she might've been me but then it's like no it's someone else I knew this girl idk from WHERE... (Which is a new one I always recognize ppl from my dreams). Also ran into The Milf Indeed but she had no pancakes though I think she was my childhood's bestie milf who I never got over she was such a gorgeous tall woman. Also uh ... Yeah my closest friend from highschool. He was there.

I think it's worth admitting I was getting kinda emotional here despite being forced to run thru these places being held by the wrist and then being given confusing directions like I was in TSP (which I naturally did wrong just like my man 🫡) bc i was like I'm really enjoying my time here with you guys :) they ignored me tho. Anyway after going like "I TRUST MY GUT FEELING MORE THAN Y'ALL" and going down a third door in the middle I ended up in this dark room.

I think the dream transitioned with me going on Tumblr and the above I mentioned happening but when I got out I realized this was some sort of water filtering room? It was kind of ship-like. It's really hard to explain. Like there was this circle in the middle held by these beams (on the floor, all of them) and I think that's where the water came and left. Touched a button on the wall and the water started raising and I freaked out bc this was meant to be a fun game and now I could actually die. I started looking around and found this little contraption that asked for a code OR an USB. Also a little dog was scratched in the USB slot which was cute. But I had NEITHER because I did NOT talk to the milf! And I was SO upset about this like am I going to die now because I soft locked my ass irl?! Like this already seemed to Not be the place I'd be in hence the escape route but I didn't pick it so 💥

So I started looking for ways out and I was gonna cut a cable to put to a phone (a cordless one) but then i realized Hey I Have My Phone I'd Go Ask On Tumblr! And this is where I saw the third mutual but also where the FOURTH comes in after I was like dude I'm stuck on this maze and it's filling with water and I missed the hint can you help me out and give me the code?

And this man was so powerful actually I was physically outside the room and found myself now next to him sitting on a couch. He was wearing this mostly unbuttoned plaid shirt and was double his real size and also hairier. I was eating this pudding like white thing with a very thin and small spoon. He started rambling about telephone car services and then brought up something about his boobs and when he did that I was not eating my pudding but him w my stupid fancy spoon except it has the exact same consistency (also I hesitated at first before actually doing it bc he seemed ok with it) so I kept eating and he kept rambling about god knows what and then at the end (bc i was visualizing all of this but it was actually just an ask he was answering as I was hallucinating this) he was like oh yeah and the code is [word] and suddenly he was intact and I had only been chewing my pudding thing. And I was like THANKS 👍 and left and when I put the code I woke up.

And I woke up an hour later than usual because of this, too.

[arrow-dodger]

When I was 12, my mom bought the soundtrack to The Phantom of the Opera movie with Gerard Butler. She must have gotten the CD from the bargain bin at Wal Mart or something. She started playing it all the time in the car, insisting she loved that kind of music (which she had never listened to before, as far as I'm aware).

I became obsessed with it almost immediately. I made her get me the movie and I watched it almost every night. At that age I hated Raoul because I thought he was lame and weak. The Phantom was my sexy sad boy and for some reason I thought I could fix him. No offense to Christine, but I was built different. The idea of being someone's entire world was very appealing to me, because I never felt important to anyone. I wanted someone to take me away to be theirs forever. That was a romance I could read fanfiction about for years to come.

I've always listened to it and watched the movie from time to time since, but I revisited it more specifically recently. It occurred to me that I only know the movie version of the songs, which are probably the worst ones, so I started listening to the original Broadway cast and the 2011 recording.

The vibe is... very different. I am very different. Gerard Butler's Phantom IS kind of a sexy sad boy in comparison, and the stage Phantom has much more "muahahaha" energy. I mean, he's a devious, cringe little bitch. But the thing is that he's also scary as hell. Actually, this entire thing has always been scary, and I was kind of blind to it because of how sexy Gerard Butler is, maybe. Listening now, it's a horror that sends chills down my spine.

Now as an adult the romance angle doesn't work the same. I've had men make me their entire world before and convince me they'd die without me living to care for them. I've had men give me things without me asking and then use that against me later. I've had men seek out my very specific weaknesses to exploit them in their favor. I've had men threaten violence and violate my personhood because they wanted to own me so badly. I had a man essentially brainwash me for so many years.

I always hated Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again as a kid. I thought the song was boring and would skip past it sometimes, because I just didn't get what it added. Now I get that it's the entire linchpin to the plot of this thing.

When I watch that scene now, I realize that Christine's trauma about the death of her father IS the plot. That's what all of this is about, in the end. During the Wandering Child bit afterwards, when I see her say "wildly my mind beats against you, but my soul obeys," I know that very feeling... and it isn't romantic, it's DARK. When she says she has endless longings, she doesn't mean she longs to have a sexy phantom boyfriend, she means she longs to feel safe! Feel loved! Protected! She wants to feel like her father is still around and looking out for her! And she spent all these years thinking she would get these things from this person who's convinced her he's an avatar of her dead father, who spends this song calling her a lost child who needs his guidance, specifically poking at the wound he knows she has to give himself the upper hand. That isn't hot! That's awful!

When I see Christine crying as she turns away from the Phantom at the end of the 2011 production, I don't think she's sad because she's in love with him too. I think she's sad because she's leaving behind this person who is the architect of her entire consciousness. Someone who has convinced her that they need each other, that they're each other's destiny. She's realizing that she needs to leave her father behind. When he says "Christine, I love you," she's hearing her father's voice. She doesn't know who she is without him, or if she'll completely collapse if she takes another step away. And bitch, same. I've been there too. I thought I'd die myself.

The angles that art can stab you from change with you as you age. Stranger than you dreamt it!

[sharkchanic]

Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Chung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Chung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Classy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Columbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Case number 4475, Superior Court of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us.

"this is... a lot of words."

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 

You’re not so sure. 

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 

Oh, you loved this man. 

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 

“I thought he was cool before.” 

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 

Of course. 

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 

And you’re all too ready to act on it. 

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true. 

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[softjakehoon]

My Roommate Who Uses an XL Condom pt. 1

pairing: Jay/Reader

includes: slight edging, deep throat, cum in mouth, rough sex, breeding kink, roommate sex

warning: this is a written smut, if you don’t like reading stuff like this, scroll down for your sake please it’s not that complicated, thank you. 

also, this was inspired by a manga called "Joushi no Asoko wa XL size" and it's the part about the xl condom thingy, which would be on the second part though. and of course, our y'n being a product reviewer. the rest are based on my imagination.

----

You've been searching for a part-time job for a couple of hours now, but most of the jobs available are full-time shifts. You're in your fourth year in college and you're pretty much occupied with all of the school works and activities that's why you resigned from your previous customer service job. You have no choice but to choose a job that will allow you to manage your own time. It's not like you wanted to do this out of boredom. You have to support yourself to afford your tuition fees and daily expenses. Your parents are both senior citizens so you had to work right after you turned 18.

"Product reviewer? No way, this sounds too good to be true."

One-week deadline per product.

Flexible work schedule. 

Salary offer $1000 per review.

You didn't hesitate to submit your application. You have to get this job or you won't be able to pay rent. You don't even have anything to eat for this week. You sighed at your current situation. You went to the shower room to clean up before going to bed. 

---

You woke up around 8 am, starving. You went to the kitchen to find something to eat. You were surprised to see the fridge full of actual food to eat. 

"Am I dreaming? How is the fridge full of food when it was empty last night?" You grabbed a tub of marinated beef and began cooking. 

"Fuck, when was the last time I ate meat? I've only been eating ramen and junk food lately. No wonder I feel like shit." You laughed at your own misery. You were cut off by the sound of the door opening. You don't remember inviting anyone over to your apartment. You don't have a roommate as well so you started to feel nervous. 

"Who is it?" You shouted while chewing on the meat you wrapped with lettuce. 

You turned your head around to see a man around your age wearing all black and a frown on his face. 

"Who are you?" He asked you back. 

"I asked you a question first. Why do you have a key to my apartment?" This time, you went to speak to him up close. You're near-sighted so you wanted to see him up close. 

"I'm Jay. I moved in last night. Are you my roommate?" He kept his cold expression. 

He's handsome as fuck, but cold as hell. You thought to yourself. Too bad. 

"Oh, that must be why the fridge is full this morning. Fuck, sorry I cooked the beef bulgogi just now. I will pay you back once I get paid from my job." You looked down from embarrassment. 

"That's alright." He didn't even bother to ask your name and went to his room. You didn't want to bug him about it since you still owe him a tub of beef so you just shrugged your shoulder and finished your breakfast. 

While eating, you checked on your email for updates. 

"Holy fuck." Your jaw dropped upon reading an email. It was from the company you applied to last night. You got the job, and you're starting today. 

You signed the contract immediately and submitted all the needed requirements. Your first product will arrive in the afternoon so you couldn't help but be excited while washing the dishes. 

After doing the dishes, you decided to do the laundry. You've been going braless in the apartment when you were still alone but you have a male roommate now so you can't do that anymore. You needed to wash them. 

"Fuck, I ran out of shorts as well? What have I been doing all this time to forget doing my laundry?"

You decided to wear an oversized almost see-through white shirt and black underwear. 

While you were putting your clothes in the front load washing machine, you heard him pretending to cough. 

You dropped the clothes upon hearing that and looked around to see him piercing you with his eyes staring straight at your body. 

"What do you think are you doing?" He said, raising his eyebrows. 

"I'm doing my laundry. Are you blind?" You looked to your side, afraid of meeting his eyes. 

He stood in front of you, "I'm not. In fact I'm very much pleased of what I'm seeing right now." You gulped when he touched your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. 

"What are you doing?" You're starting to get nervous, or turned on. You don't know anymore. Is it because you haven't had sex for so long now? Fuck, you know you can't have sex with your roommate. You know damn well how it would end since your ex was also your roommate before. 

"I'm making you look at my face. Ever since we met you've been avoiding my gaze." He smirked at you, turning you on even more. 

"T-that's because you look scary, dude. Geez, get your hands off me or I will punch your face so I won't have any reason to look at it." You tried to push him away only for him to corner you on the wall with his arms locking you in. 

"Don't call me that. Or I will kiss you right now." You knew he wasn't bluffing. But for some reason, you wanted to kiss him as well. So you called him that. 

"Stop playing around, dude. Can't you see I'm busy doing someth-" You were cut off by his lips on yours. It stayed still for a short moment as if he was trying to see how you would react. But when he sensed you closing your eyes, he began to move his lips along with yours.

It was a sweet and passionate kiss as if he knew you all his life. It felt so good, you couldn't help but pull his hair, making the kiss deeper. His right hand holding your face along with your jaw, his left hand holding your waist, keeping you close to his body. You could feel your core starting to get wet from the heat that you're feeling, making you rub your thighs together. Taking the hint, Jay placed his knee in the middle and closed the distance between your body. You're now grinding on his thighs, desperately looking for friction and release. 

"Are we just gonna kiss all day or are you going to fuck me?" You pulled away from the kiss and chased your breath.

"I thought you said you're busy." He smirked again. 

"Well now I'm not." You kissed him again, this time with so much lust and desire. Jay is incredibly handsome, he's tall and has a nice body as well. Normally, you don't hang out with guys like him because you know they're always into pretty girls, but you don't want to think about it for now. 

"Relax, baby. I'll get you nice and ready first." He grabbed your breasts as soon as he removed your shirt, sucking on your nipples while his right hand palming your core. 

"I guess I don't even need to. You're soaking wet already. Is this all for me, babe?" He removed your last piece of clothing and slipped two fingers inside you. 

"Fuck, Jay. Shut up already and put it in.” You can't help but moan as he slips his fingers in and out of you.

“Stop bossing me around, brat.” There was a sudden change in his aura, his fingers thrusting in and out of you now roughly. 

“Damn it, I wanna cum on your cock, please. Fuck me already.” You begged. You’re about to reach your climax under his touch. All of a sudden, he removed his fingers making you bite your lips in frustration.

“What the hell? Why did you sto-” You were cut off when he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pushing you down on your knees. He immediately removed his belt and tied your hands with it. You stared at him with your puppy eyes while waiting for him to remove his clothes.

He pumped his cock a couple of times before squeezing your cheeks, a sign for you to open your mouth. You were taken aback by the size of his cock in your tiny mouth. You can’t even touch him to support yourself, so he was holding you by your hair and fucking your mouth as he wants. 

“See, this is what your mouth is for. It’s not for you to talk back, or be a brat. This mouth is meant for my cock.” Tears pooled in your eyes as the tip of his dick hits your throat every time he would thrust. You were able to get rid of your gag reflex, thanks to your ex.

“Fuck, how are you so good at this? I fucking love your mouth. You’ve got no gag reflex? Fucking insane, ahh.” He’s growling at this point. You can tell he’s close as the veins in his dick are getting more prominent and it’s twitching inside your mouth.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” After a couple of thrusts, he came down your throat. You gladly swallowed his cum, making sure nothing goes to waste.

“Shit, brat. You better remember how I taste.” He said, untying your hands from his belt. He helped you to stand, kissing you while placing you on top of the counter. 

He took no time in aligning himself into your core. He gathered your wetness using the tip of his dick and finally pushed it in. You can definitely feel the stretch but the pleasure goes beyond the pain at this point. You were moaning softly against his ear. 

“Fuck, you feel so tight around me.” His thrust getting steady and rougher each time.

“You feel so good, Jay. I’m gonna cum.” You’re finally getting the release he denied you earlier.

“That’s right, cum on my cock.” You moaned in response. Your walls tightening around him even more, making him meet his nearing climax for the second time.

“Cum with me, Jay. Come inside me, please.” You were on birth control anyway. You were on an injectable contraceptive and it’s still in effect ‘til now. You will probably need to ask him if he’s fucking around later on but you really wanted to have his cum inside you. Hearing you beg for his cum was music to his ears. After easing you from your high with a couple of thrusts, he came right after. You felt his dick twitch inside you, his cum spreading heat in your walls. He pulled out seconds after, making his cum leak out of you.

Jay swore he took a mental image of it in his mind. You looked so hot, all fucked out because of him. You, on the other hand, waited for him to help you get off the counter.

Which he didn’t do. He put on his clothes and went straight to the bathroom to clean himself. 

“What a jerk. Did he just leave me here after all that?” You tried not to feel too disappointed. Still, it made you feel angry. He could’ve at least helped you. “I’m never having sex with you again, asshole.” You said just enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.

Author’s note: Jay’s point of view will be on the second part. He’s a gentleman pls.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.2

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

The BEAUTIFUL art pieces were done by @clownwry and @elishevart ! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 😭❤️💋

ch.1 - ch.3

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was way more nervous than he was letting on.

She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.

She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.

Ford would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Mabel’s company, but she was practically a stranger, and keeping a random girl in his house that was located in the middle of the woods was fishy and Ford couldn’t help but feel like it was illegal. But he couldn’t leave her out in the snow and send her on her way to find her home and family, so he decided to keep her warm or healthy, simply because it was the right thing to do.

But then she said she had no parents to call. Only a brother, who was lost, too. Ford can remember the old rule: If you’re lost, stay where you are until you are found. So he then decided that she could stay here until her brother found her, which should be by morning at the latest.

Still, he felt uneasy, so once Mabel was settled in front of the TV, Ford excused himself and went into the kitchen to make a phone call. There was only one man who would have better judgement in this situation than him.

The phone rang a few times. Ford checked his watch to make sure it was a reasonable time to call. It wasn’t Sunday, was it? But then the ringing stopped. “Howdy! This here Fiddleford McGucket.”

“Hey there, buddy.” Ford smiled to himself at hearing that cheerful voice. “How have you been?”

“Stanford Pines! Good t’hear from ya!” Fiddleford cheered. “M’just fine, just fine! How are ya?! Ya haven’t gotten eaten by monsters yet, have ya?” He laughed, making his old friend chuckle along.

“No no, I’m alright.” Ford almost brought up the reason he called, but then he remembered something very important to Fiddleford. “How are Emma-May and Tater?”

“OH! They’re doin’ great! We’re all very happy n’ doin’ well! Ya won’t believe how big Tate’s gotten since ya last saw him! He’s already crawlin’!”

“Wow, that's great to hear.” Ford sat in a chair at the kitchen table. “Has he said his first words yet?”

“No, not quite. Actually, he’s extremely quiet. Not a lot of baby-babble.” Fiddleford chuckled. “The doctor says that’s perfectly normal. Tate’s so smart, he’s reachin’ for specific colors n’ such, n’ ya can tell he’s thinkin’ a lot n’ knows what’s goin’ on, he just got nothin’ t’say.”

“I was very shy when I was young.” Ford commented casually. He didn't feel like mentioning why. “If Tate is anything like either of his parents he’s very intelligent.”

“Oh, he’s so much like both of us it’s scary. Ya know Emma-May, so clever n’ quiet n’ such. Tate’s got all that. But he already looks so much like me! But he’s got his mama’s hair! N’ Santy Claus brought ‘im this fun little fishin’ game where ya fish for plastic fish with a pole with a magnet on it, n’ he loves it! I can’t wait to take ‘im fishin’ when he’s big enough! Ya really outta give yourself a break n’ come down for a visit, he’d move to see his Uncle Ford again.”

Ford’s face felt hot. “Perhaps. Spring is when a lot of anomalies are active and breeding, so i would prefer not to miss that, but maybe I could visit for a weekend before that…”

“Well, no pressure, I won’t assume anythang until ya tell me to, just know there’s always a bed for ya here.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford. The same for you and your family. The clean air will do everyone some good.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Fiddleford sighed happily and perked up. “So! Whatcha callin’ for? Not that I’m not happy just t’chat, but ya never call.”

Ford laughed and shrugged to himself. “I suppose I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No need t’be sorry, Stanford, just wanna know what’s up.”

“Well, I was hoping to get your advice on something.”

“Shoot.”

“Um… well…” Ford rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to tell him this. “I heard some unusual sounds outside today…”

“What kind of unusual sounds?”

“Cracks, like lightning. And some faint yelling.” Ford answered. “I thought it might be a tree branch or a new anomaly to catalogue, but when I opened the door a young girl was standing there in the snow with no coat.”

“Heavens! Is she alright?!”

“She’s okay, no frostbite. She was cold, but after sitting by the fire, drinking some hot chocolate, and changing into some dry clothes, she’s okay now.”

“Well, good.”

“So of course I brought her in. I tried to call her parents, she probably got lost playing…”

“Sure.”

“... but she says she doesn’t have any parents.”

“Oh.” Fiddleford sighed. “Oh. Now, wait, are ya sure she didn’t just say that so ya wouldn’t call?”

Ford chuckled and said, “I first thought that too, but she looked too sad to be lying.”

“Okay, I see. Does she got somebody ya can call?”

“She says she has a brother, but he was out there, too. So he is probably out there looking for her and therefore nowhere near a phone.”

“Fair enough, okay. So, I reckon y’all are waitin’ for him t’come ‘round.”

“Yup.”

“Well sounds to me like you’ve handled this all pretty well.” Fiddleford said confidently.

“You think so?” Ford asked. “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m missing something. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Nonsense, buddy, you’re doin’ great.” Fiddleford assured. “Look here, ya can’t just leave a young gurl out in the snow t’try t’find her way home...”

“I agree.”

“... so ya really got one option n’ that’s t’keep an eye on her n’ let her in as a guest. N’ ya tried t’call, but nothin’. The best thang ya can do right now is be there for this lil’lady n’ just be kind t’her. N’ if nobody comes for her by mornin’, why don’t ya go into town n’ see if anybody knows her, then they can help y’all out.”

Ford nodded, then remembered that his best friend couldn’t see it, so he said, “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“You’re welcome. N’ hey, are ya okay?” He asked seriously.

“Yes, yes I’m okay. I just want to make sure I do this right.”

“O’course. I understand. Ya want me t’come down there n’ give a hand?”

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m sure Mabel will find her brother in the morning.”

“Mabel, huh? Well, if y’all don’t, please call me. N’ even if ya do find her brother, call me. Keep me updated.”

“I will. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“Anytime, Stanford.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Mr. Ford gave Mabel the remote for the old TV and went into the kitchen, she decided to use her awesome detective skills to figure out what year it was. If it was before Grunkle Stan lived here and opened the Mystery Shack, she must be pretty far back in time. But she had no way of knowing if it was 1999 or 2005 or the 50s.

The TV was old, but so was Grunkle Stan’s in her time. So Mr. Ford could have had this TV for a long time and didn’t want to replace it. 

Okay, so when was the TV made? Mabel didn’t know. Dipper would have known.

Okay, Grunkle Stan mentioned watching TV when he was a kid once or twice. So at least Mabel was when Stan was a kid, okay. 

Mabel turned the TV on and it was in color. Okay, so she wasn’t too far back in time. But the TV was playing a commercial for clear skin. The picture was gritty and all the people in it had puffy hair and long socks and oh my god was that woman wearing legwarmers?! Mabel grinned at seeing her favorite fashion on TV, but then her face dropped. When was she?

She tapped her chin and tried to think of how to know the date without being suspicious. She could ask Mr. Ford, but that might be suspicious. Mabel decided to start flicking through channels to try to guess what year she was in based on what was airing. A lot of shows were about cowboys, space, or game shows. Huh. Okay.

All the TV shows were definitely older. Nothing her dad would watch from when he was a kid, so if Mabel had to guess by everyone’s crazy air, the cheesy TV shows, and the music occasionally playing, she was in the 70s.

Huh. Okay. But she needed an exact year. So Mabel turned off the TV, saw an old radio on a desk, and turned it on to listen.

“... cuz it’s cold doesn’t mean you can't boogie, folks! So grab someone you wanna get warm with, turn up the music, and get your bodies warm in the coolest way possible! Here’s Night Fever, by the Bee Gees!”

Mabel grinned at the disco music. Her personal favorite song from these guys was More Than a Woman, but Night Fever would do. For a moment Mabel forgot her mission, jumped off the couch and left the blanket behind, and in the over-sized gray t-shirt Mr. Ford gave her while her clothes were drying, she danced along to the music, singing the chorus since those were the only words she knew.

“When you reach out for me. Yeah, and the feelin' is right,

Then I get night fever, night fever. We know how to do it! Gimme that night fever, night fever. We know how to show it!”

Mabel laughed at herself as she spun around in her socks and tried to do the point-and-hype dance she didn’t know the name to, but everyone did it when a disco song played.

Little did she know that Ford had returned to check on her, and was smiling at her as she shook her hips and waved her hair around and had fun. He leaned against the doorway and planned to let her dance in peace, but when she did a spin and saw him, she grinned and took his hand. “C’mon, Mr. Ford, come dance with me!”

Ford chuckled and shook his head. “No, no! I can’t dance!”

“You got two legs that aren’t broken?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can dance! C’mon!” Mabel encouraged, let him go when they were both in the middle of the room, and she started to dance again. “Don’t make me dance alone!” She even pulled an evil move and gave him puppy eyes. Rude.

Ford smiled slyly at her and hesitantly copied her boogie moves. It was true that Ford never liked to dance, but there was no one around but Mabel, and though he had only known her for an hour or more, he was sure she would never make fun of him.

And he was right.

“Wow! Look at you, Mr. I-Can’t-Dance! Yeah!” Mabel hopped on the couch, standing, and took Ford’s hand. “Here, I’ll spin you!”

Ford laughed and allowed it, doing a single spin, but then scooping her in his arms to dip her and then let her down, making her laugh as they continued to dance. 

“Alright alright, you crazy cats, that was Night Fever by the Bee Gees! It's a snowy day here in the heart of Oregon, with snow flurries coming in harder all night, but it should clear up by morning and be a fun day to go out and play! The date is January 26th, 1978 in case you gotta write a check or mail a thank you note to a friend or family member. I’m still writing letters for Christmas! We’ll be right back with some of your favorites after a word or two from our sponsors, so don’t go anywhere!”

Mabel stared at the radio. “Wow, 1978.” She breathed. Her parents were only kids right now, maybe only six or seven-years-old. Wow.

Ford chuckled. “I know, I’m still in the bad habit of writing ‘77.”

Mabel realized her mistake, but was grateful her host misunderstood her. “Me too.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for dinner. How about some ramen noodles?”

“Yes, please! Can we play a game after we eat?”

“Sure. I don’t have many board games, but I do have a deck of cards.”

“Do you know any card tricks?!”

“A few.” Ford admitted, wiggling his fingers. “There are some advantages to having more fingers than average.”

Mabel grinned up at him and followed him to the kitchen for dinner.

[glowingbadger]

Hi it’s me, crawling through the window. Would it be possible to get a crumb of arranged marriage w/ Hubert? His line w/ Dorothea about being willing to get married for politics sake has fueled my brain rot for him.

Good God I need to secure my windows-

I mean HELLO FRIEND ANON YES IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE

Lol actually though, I have been thinking about this for Hubie since we all started chatting about that arranged marriage stuff! I think it's a perfect concept for him~

This like... got weird while I was writing it though?? Idk man hahaha it ended up on the less-spicy side of what I usually write, and with some very weird dialogue in places... Idk, I hope y'all like it. Maybe if there's interest, I'll follow this up eventually with a more smut-focused piece?

I've been traveling and working so much lately that I just don't even know what writing is anymore or how it works hahaha

TW: A brief mention of non-con

Hubert (FE3H) x Reader ("wife," neutral pronouns)

Arranged Marriage - semi spicy i guess?

"Frankly, he's a pain," Linhardt must be able to see your surprise and confusion written across your face. He goes on, "He's reliable and capable, of course, but also the most persistent nag you'll ever meet. Actually, no-" he glances upward as though to cross reference his own thoughts, "No, her Majesty is worse. But Hubert is a close second to be sure. Always on and on about sleep schedules and proper nutrition and etiquette..." He sighs and closes the massive tome on his lap, as though to close the conversation with it, "frankly, he's an insufferable mother hen. Does that help?"

"Well, it's... Not what I expected," you admit with a shrug, "but thank you all the same."

~

It's been several weeks since the papers binding you in marriage to Hubert Von Vestra had been signed- and this alone had sufficed. No ceremony, no grand ball, just paperwork and a handshake with your father. A handshake that ensured that, even under the Empire's unification, he would maintain nominal control over his considerable portion of land, and in return, would swear absolute loyalty to her Majesty. It was a beneficial arrangement for all parties, and you were not ignorant to the part you played. You were hardly even a bargaining chip- moreso, a hostage.

Your new husband had made no secret of what manner of harm may befall you if your family were to renege on their deal. Fortunately, you know your father to be a reliable coward, so you have no reason to believe he would be bold enough to step out of line.

Hubert Von Vestra is a terrifying man. A zealously loyal man of storied cruelty and a frigid disposition. His frame looms over you whenever he's near, and though he's hardly placed a finger on you since you'd been given over to him, his mere presence is... arresting. There's a sort of charisma to him that's equal parts frightening and fascinating. Perhaps it's madness brought on by your circumstances, but you can't help wanting to glimpse just the slightest bit into that brilliant, ever churning mind.

Unsurprisingly, he has been resistant to your attempts to understand him. He hardly indulges you in small talk, and if you were the paranoid sort, you'd think he intentionally makes himself busy when you're around. Eventually, perhaps out of sheer stubbornness, you'd settled on a routine of bringing coffee to his study adjoined to your bedroom in the evenings. He'd been visibly surprised the first time. It wasn't until the fourth night that he'd given a curt "thank you." About two weeks in, he'd actually sat back in his chair and laid down his quill pen to receive the cup from your hands. After a month, he'd leveled his narrow gaze at you and said,

"I cannot begin to fathom what satisfaction you glean from playing 'maid' to me."

"Well, I, uhm," you hadn't expected him to address you so directly, but you managed to say, "You... work so hard, I wanted to do something for you, I suppose."

His expression is inscrutable as he replies,

"You are aware that my work was much the same before you arrived."

"I am," you say softly, "But- all the same..." you trail off, and Hubert seems content to let the matter rest. And so you leave him be amidst his reports and correspondence, coffee at his side on the desk. Yet for as unproductive as your exchange might have seemed, it does leave you with an idea. The thought to learn about the man from those who knew him long before your arrival at the capitol.

~

Your investigation into the true character of your husband does not stop with Linhardt. In fact, his testimony only leaves you with further questions. But perhaps the others would say otherwise; perhaps the United Empire's most up and coming crest scholar simply inspires maternal behavior. This has to be the case- you simply can't imagine that the notoriously ruthless heir of the even more notorious Vestra lineage would be so... Doting.

And yet the more you learn of him, the more contradictory he seems.

Caspar's take is much like Linhardt's- a picture of a man far closer to a school marm than any assassin or master of torture. Ferdinand seems both smitten and incensed by him, oscillating wildly between the two. Then eventually, to your shock, Bernadetta takes the initiative to speak to you about Hubert of her own accord.

"I'm, uh, really so-sorry to bother you!" she approaches with arms drawn close to her chest and eyes resolutely avoiding yours, "I- I just heard that you were... asking about Hubert, so, I, uh..."

It takes some time to prompt her further. You assure her again and again- no, this isn't intrusive at all- yes, you'd very much like to hear her perspective- no, you're not mad at her. In truth, you're endlessly intrigued about what a gentle soul like Bernadetta would have to say about a man feared across the continent. Finally, she manages,

"He's... actually really kind!" she blurts out, as though the words would abandon her if she gave them the window of opportunity. Your eyebrows raise slightly.

"You think so..?"

"Yes, completely-!" she stammers, "I know he's super, super scary, and powerful and spooky and cold and, uh, all of that. But still," her voice falters as she continues, "He only scolds people when they do something dangerous. And he only hurts people to protect others. I... I know he's done some te-terrible things. But... he's always been nice to Bernie," finally, she meets your eyes with an imploring look in hers, "So, uh, I'm really grateful to him. And I think it would be really nice for someone to reach out to him. If... if that's not too weird or anything. For you."

You smile warmly and nod,

"Thank you, Bernadetta. I know it can't be easy for you to come to me with all of this, but... I'd like to try, if I can."

The opportunity doesn't come in the way you expect.

At first, it seems the night will proceed like many others before. You bring a cup of coffee to your husband's desk, setting it down quietly so as to not disturb him. He's silent, but this is common enough, so you head back to the bedroom to undress for the evening. All nights prior, he would lay beside you long after you'd settled in, then rise to resume work in the morning before you woke up- all the while never allowing your bodies to interact in any way.

Tonight, just as you're about to close the door to Hubert's study behind you, long fingers catch around your wrist, visibly startling you.

It's the most physical contact you've had to-date, but he only says,

"One moment."

You whip around to face him, a touch of anxiety evident in your eyes. It's clear in his own that he notices, but if anything, he only seems amused. He steps forward, his taller frame menacing you as he speaks,

"I understand that you have been busying yourself with some manner of investigation as of late."

It takes a moment for his meaning to reach you. When it does, your face burns and you can't bring yourself to meet his scrutinizing gaze,

"Oh, uhm..."

"I assure you, my dearest wife," he says with barely concealed venom, "anything that I do not wish for you to know will be kept from you. Aside from which, your efforts thus far have proven amateurish at best."

Something seems off about his tone. You could understand if he felt uncomfortable or hesitant about your efforts to learn about him, but this seems far more grave, more... business-like. He steps towards you once more, and you step back in turn. Yet before long, you feel your legs bump the edge of the bed. A gloved hand trails a fingertip down your jawline to your chin, then urges you to look up at him.

"Whatever you are planning, my dear, I promise it will be fruitless. You had best rethink how you spend your days before your actions bring you to harm."

"No, I-" your brow creases deeply, your face burns, your body burns hotter and you don't want to consider why, "I've just been trying to learn about you as a person, nothing else. We're- we're married, after all, so..."

He gives an abrupt, dry laugh.

"Ah, so I am to believe that you've been interrogating my allies out of some misguided affection, is that it?"

"Hubert, just listen to me!" for a moment, you feel bolstered, defiant, and you straighten your posture, "You won't tell me the first thing about you- the only way to learn so much as your favorite color is to ask someone who's known you for a decade!"

Briefly, he does seem to consider your words. But his eventual reply is as aloof as any prior,

"If you're no spy or politician, then you're worse- a fool." he says, and before you can respond, he's seized both of your wrists and pushed you back onto the bed. For a moment, the room spins and your voice leaves you. A shrewd eye watches you with cruel condescension as he pins you against the sheets.

"I should think that you'd be well aware what I'm capable of," he nearly whispers, "I personally ensured that the rumors spread through your father's territory and further still. Do you think that anyone would even dare lift a finger to help you if I chose to seek retribution for this recent behavior?" He draws nearer, his grip tighter at your wrists, "Perhaps as punishment, I'll simply take my pleasure from you by force."

Your lips tighten, you take a breath. Then, meeting his gaze directly, you reply,

"You won't."

His visible eye narrows.

"And what evidence do you have to prompt such unfounded confidence? Perhaps you have crafted a flattering falsehood of me in your mind," a mocking smirk curls his lips, "Am I a misunderstood sentimental sort to you, then? A sad, lonely man for you to save?"

You scowl, though you suspect it looks more like a pout to him.

"I don't know what I think of you yet- not completely. But I don't pity you like that, and I don't think you're sad or lonely. I know you're not."

For the first time, it seems that you've caught him off guard. That frigid mask falters for just a moment, and you go on before he can replace it,

"You're surrounded by people who care about you. I've seen it for myself. Whatever you've had to do in the service of your ideals- it hasn't kept the people around you from wanting to know and understand you, even if it's despite you."

Hubert is silent for a moment. His gaze bores into you like he thinks he'll discover some hidden layer if he can just keep digging. Then, he sighs,

"How did I ever become bound to such a troublesome spouse..."

When you wrest your arms from his grasp, his hands fall away with little resistance, and you think that perhaps he had never truly intended to keep you in place by force to begin with. He moves to leave the bed, but your fists find the front of his clothing and tug him back down to you.

You press your lips to his without hesitation, and you can feel him inhale sharply, his entire body rigid above you. His lips are surprisingly soft, his scent like coffee and old parchment, and though your heart threatens to burst from your chest, you hold firmly to him by his clothes. Near imperceptibly, he leans down against you, and your fear, along with any remaining doubts, begin to dissolve. Knowing he won't pull away, you let your hands relax against him, running up his chest where you can feel his own pulse pounding. It's so human, so entirely reasonable and normal. Now, at last, Hubert Von Vestra is merely a man of flesh and bone.

Your tongue meets his naturally, your lips parting in time with his as your kiss deepens to a fevered pace. One hand reaches that sharp, handsome jawline, reveling in the erotic sensation of his mouth moving against yours. And yet, all the while, his hands remain staunchly on the bed beside you. He doesn't touch you- doesn't even let his body meet yours.

It's impossible to tell whether passion or madness drives you to bring your teeth to his lower lip, a single insistent bite communicating desire mounting faster than you can contain. And for a moment, you sense something new; a sound catches in Hubert's throat, a reaction he fights to stifle. Then, he pulls away. His pale skin is tinted a rare shade of pink, and his hair is ruffled out of place enough to reveal both narrowed eyes. His cloak has spilled around his frame to surround you both, and somewhere in your frazzled mind, you imagine that you're caught in some beautiful, velvet-lined trap.

"I- must... return to my work." Hubert says stiffly. He pushes up from you and turns away, leaving you still flustered on the bed behind him. You sit upright, holding your arms tight around your body as you watch him straighten his hair and clothes.

"You, uhm..." your face reddens still as you search for the right words, "you could... join me in bed, if you liked."

Hubert turns to the door of his study, speaking without daring to even glance your way,

"Anything that you offer to me now will be born from the impulse to survive. I have been bargained with before." His shoulders slack just slightly, his voice low and sober, "The proudest nobleman will even sell off his own child to a monster if he feels it will spare him its teeth."

You open your mouth to protest, then shut it without a word. You feel that you know your mind and heart, even in this moment, but you lack the words to convince a man like this. In a feeble attempt, you murmur,

"You don't frighten me, Hubert. Not anymore."

He half turns toward you, though his hand remains on the handle of his study door.

"You yourself said that you do not know what you think of me," he says, "As such, I will not lay a hand on you until the day that you do."

You stare down at your hands in your lap, barely registering the sound of the door clicking shut as he leaves you in the bedroom. No matter how you try to sort out your tangled thoughts, the memory of his lips on yours won't leave them. If anything, it eclipses any sense of reason, standing resolutely in the way of your path to clarity. Letting out a groaning sigh, you fall onto your back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if it could offer you any advice.

What do I think about my own husband? You wonder, the thought nearly enough to make you laugh. Well for one, he's a pain.

[midgardianweasley]

Movie Night

Movie night

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: It’s friday night, or more commonly known as movie night for the Avengers. A horror movie was put on and Y/N isn’t feeling so brave, luckily she’s got a Romanoff nearby.

Warnings: coulrophobia (fear of clowns), mentions of the IT movie and pennywise.

Word Count: 2.5k

Идиоты. - ‘Idiots.’

Requests are open!

“I vote action movie”

“We watched an Action movie last week, Sam.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly looking up and meeting my eyes, earning a small smile in return, attempting to provide some sanity for the man.

“Plus, do you not think we’ve had enough action for one week?” Bucky grumbled, this week having taken a toll on everyone. We were all exhausted from our missions, some more than others, the soldier being one of them.

“Okay okay, no action, damn” Sam put his hands up in defeat, accepting that he wasn’t going to win this one. A few more options had been suggested, Bruce suggested rom-com, Thor suggested comedy, Vision proposed a documentary, all of which were shut down with groans and sounds of protest.

I turned to my assassin girlfriend who had been sitting beside me watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk on her face, her green eyes darting around the room whenever someone else spoke and taking sips of the drink she had in her hand. I nudged her slightly to get her attention

“Hey.”

“Hi”

“If it was up to you, what would you choose for movie night?” I asked. She morphed her face into a thoughtful one, still with a slight smile on her face, taking time to make her decision.

“If it was completely up to me? I would-”

“Aha!” Tony interrupted with a loud snap of his fingers. “I know, we haven’t watched a horror movie in a while, and the new IT movie just came out, we can watch that” He smirked, proud of his contribution to the discussion at hand. I looked around the room, praying that they would pick anything else, literally anything, even Vision’s documentary.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be really into it as they all shared nod’s and “yeah” “sounds good” before splitting up to go and get their snacks and blankets to bring back to the large sofa.

Although I wouldn't admit it to the rest of the group, I was absolutely terrified of clowns and have been since I was a child. If there was a clown at a birthday party or an event, I’d pretend I was sick so that my mum wouldn’t make me go. She soon noticed a pattern in my behaviour, putting the pieces together and realising that I hadn't come down with the flu three times that month, I was avoiding the ‘entertainment’ of the parties.

She tried explaining that it was just a guy in makeup and a funny suit, showing off fun tricks and jokes. However, 9 year old me still refused to attend, faking a sneeze and hiding under the blanket.

“Woah, Y/L/N, you good over there?” Tony furrowed his brows, concern written all over his face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I wish it was a ghost.

I regained my composure, nodding and sending a firm smile his way, hoping that would be enough to prevent any further questioning. With a shrug, he made his way out of the room and caught up with Thor to explain what ‘IT’ was.

“You don’t look so good, sure you’re okay?” Nat placed her hand on my back, rubbing small, reassuring circles with her palm. I wanted to put on a brave face and tell her I was fine, that there wasn’t a problem and my heart wasn’t racing with fear, but the look on her face, while caring and concerned, was also warning me not to lie to her. Not that i’d manage anyway, she always had ways of finding out the truth eventually.

I shook my head, letting out a small sigh and turning in my seat to address her. My eyes met hers and I felt my heart settle slightly just by looking at her, she always made me feel safe.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” She whispered, her hand coming up to rest on my cheek, her thumb stroking my cheekbone in small movements.

“It’s so silly, really.”

“Nothing is silly if it’s upsetting you Detka. Tell me.”

“It’s this movie.”

The confusion was obvious on her face, yet she stayed quiet, allowing me to elaborate.

“I just, I’ve never been the best with clowns. Ever since I was a child, I’ve had this fear of them. If I saw one, I’d run in the opposite direction, which was more often than one would think. I mean, seriously, who wants one of those things at a party? What happened to princess parties? Or tea parties!” I exclaimed, my tone becoming more intense as I spoke.

Natasha nodded, I could almost see the cogs turning in her head, figuring out how to approach the situation. After a minute or two, she focused her eyes back on me and her hands had trailed down to meet with mine, interlocking them in the process.

“Do you want to skip it tonight?” She suggested.

“No, no, I don’t want to cause a fuss. Plus, I kinda don’t want the others knowing.”

“Are you absolutely sure? I’m sure we can pull a sickie for one night.”

“I’m sure. Just, can you stay next to me? And let me hide if it gets really bad?”

“Of course you can. I’ll be next to you the whole time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

___________________

We were at the haunted house scene in the movie. There had already been jumpscares that I'd managed to avoid for the most part, but I don’t think I've moved past Georgie’s death yet, let alone have time to process the psycho killer clown on the screen.

Eddie was in a room alone, he was staring at this dirty, old fridge and a white hand had appeared, curling itself around and tapping on the side so you could only see it’s fingers. I tugged the blanket that was laid across Natasha and i’s laps and pulled it up to my nose, eyes still on the screen, but prepared to take cover. It appears as though nothing has changed from all those years ago.

As the fridge door creaked open, my blanket had raised higher and higher, my grip tightening by the second while the hand reappeared, this time, you could see it’s entire body contorted into this small space.

“Nope. No, absolutely fucking not. No.” I mumbled, covering my eyes with my fluffy shield. Luckily, Nat had stolen the sofa at the back, meaning I could skip the scary parts without anyone taking much notice, them being too entranced by the movie. Weirdo’s.

In my safety bubble I'd created, I felt my girlfriend’s hand on my thigh, rubbing small circles to reassure me that I was okay, and that she was here. I shuffled a little so I was closer to her, if that was even possible, her then adjusting so that her hand was still on my thigh, but another arm was wrapped securely around me, pulling me into her side a little more.

I assumed we would stay like that for a bit, until she started to shift more noticeably and lifted the part of the blanket closest to her, and put it over her own head, taking me by surprise, a faint gasp leaving my lips when seeing that she’d joined me.

“You doing okay under here?” She spoke softly, a hint of amusement playing on her face as she looked at me folded up into a ball.

“I am. This blanket protects me from all.”

“Of course it does, the fluffier it is, the more protection, right?” She quoted words i’d spoken earlier on when bringing in the blanket for us.

“Are you sure you’re not going to boil under there?”

“Nope. And even if I do, the fluffier the blanket, the more protection from cannibal clowns.” I’d explained proudly. Yes, I'm an Avenger that fights extraterrestrials and demigods and still runs to a blanket for safety, leave me alone.

We stayed under there for a minute or two, holding hands and sharing small kisses while the movie continued and we hid in our little bubble.

“C’mon lovebirds, the movie isn’t over yet, you can continue that when we’ve gone to bed if you must.” Stark called out, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and retreat back to her previous position.

I don’t know what ran through my mind, I clearly didn’t think twice about the situation I was in, my default being to follow Natasha and pull the blanket down and off my head. Upon resurfacing from my cocoon, I looked towards the Television. Bad idea. With a shriek that I'm almost certain could be heard from Asgard, I flew under the blanket again after seeing Pennywise with all of his teeth on show, edging towards Eddie to eat him.

Natasha’s arms wound their way around me again, slightly shaking now from the fright. Even though the blanket tended to muffle sounds, I could hear the room fill with laughter and comments from the Avengers.

“I didn’t know your voice could go that high Y/L/N”

“Pennywise! You scared Y/N!”

“Y/N, it’s literally-”

“How about you guys shut up and watch the movie? Otherwise I swear to god Thor, I’ll bring snakes in here and Sam, I’ll cut the wings off of your suit.” I heard the redhead next to me threaten, alongside some more punishments to the others who laughed, immediately silencing them, all of them knowing that she wasn’t one for an empty threat.

Even though the laughter died down and no more words were spoken, tears still built up in my eyes and were daring to fall down my cheeks. I feel so embarrassed. A room full of superheroes and I was scared to death over a fictional clown in front of all of them.

I tried to keep my sniffles to a minimum and at a level where no one could hear me, however, they seemed to have caught Nat’s attention as she whispered to me, loud enough for me to hear, but quietly so that it was only me that could hear.

“Mind if I come in?”

I chose not to verbally respond, instead, I pulled the edge of the blanket up, allowing her to bend down and make her way underneath. After making herself comfortable, she turned to me and did, what felt like study, my face before tutting under her breath.

“Идиоты. Are you okay?” I smiled at her speaking Russian. She often switched between the two, interchanging within sentences. I’d been around her enough to pick up on some of the terms, funnily enough she’d said that word so often, my understanding was immediate.

“Feeling a bit humiliated” My voice came out weak and slightly gravelly from the crying, her thumb immediately wiped the tears off of my cheeks, lingering afterwards.

“Don’t be. Everyone has their fears, you shouldn’t be embarrassed by having them. Okay? It just means you're human.” She patiently explained, sparking a question to leave my lips before realising.

“Do you have a fear?”

She smiled “mhm”

“Can I know what it is?”

She leaned in closer to me, lips hovering beside my ear so I could feel and hear her breathing quietly.

“Идиоты” She whispered, resulting in me clamping my hand over my mouth to limit the noise my laughter was making.

“There’s that smile I love.” She took my chin in her index finger and her thumb, her face once again, coming closer towards mine before our lips met in the middle, sharing a soft, quick kiss, distracting me from any embarrassment i’d previously felt.

________________

The movie had just finished, everyone was getting up and starting to clear up any mess they’d made, mainly popcorn that had fallen everywhere, Wanda and Vision being the main culprit, jumping at the scary parts had caused a popcorn avalanche near their seats.

Nat and I gathered our blankets and snacks we’d brought in, trying to ignore the slight tension hanging in the air, and just as we were about to walk to our bedroom, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Peter.

Rocking back and forth on his heels and fidgeting with his hands, he smiled.

“Hey, uh- miss Y/L/N. Miss Romanoff, sorry, I just wanted to come and make sure you were okay.” He rushed, clearly anxious to approach us considering the telling off Natasha gave everyone earlier.

“I’m okay, thank you Peter. You can call me Y/N by the way, ‘miss’ makes me feel old.” I chuckled, visibly seeing his shoulders relax at my response, he was really sweet, never wanting to get on anyone’s bad side. He’s a good kid.

“Sorry mi-,Y/N, sorry, I’ll remember for next time. That movie was pretty freaky, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Feeling more relaxed, I made a slow but steady beeline for the bedroom, wanting to have cuddles with Nat and go to sleep, hopefully forget the movie ever happened. Soon enough, we were both changed into a vest top, I wore a pair of shorts and Nat wore a pair of sweats and we were in bed, facing each other with our legs tangled together, our noses bumping every so often.

“I love you” I mumbled in between kisses, eyes opening briefly to be met by her green orbs looking back at me.

“I love you more, Detka.”

A silence then overtook the room, only being able to hear the breeze outside and a slight whistle from where it was flying through the trees. I’d usually adore this, finding peace in the wind and the darkness, tonight however, it felt unsettling. All I could hear in my head was the soundtrack to the movie, picturing the bloody teeth and that creepy smile from earlier in my head.

“Love?” I nudged my girlfriend’s nose gently, hoping she was still somewhat awake.

“Mhmm?”

“Can you, can you possibly sing to me?” Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile on her face, wrapping her arms tightly around me before humming a quiet melody, sending me into a blissful sleep.

By noon the next day, I had received apologies from everyone in the compound, a couple of bone crushing hugs from Thor and some complementary pancakes that Wanda had made with some help from Bruce, aprons on and covered in flour. Everyone tucked into their individual stacks, enjoying some lighthearted conversation, Nat taking the opportunity to press a small kiss to the back of my hand, I quickly returned the gesture. It was lovely.

Movie night was a rollercoaster, but at the end of the day, I was surrounded by the best people, and nothing would change that, not even the fear of clowns.

Though they’re still really fucking scary.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

[thefanficmonster]

Unlucky

Part 2: ‘Lucky Me’

Corpse Husband x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Corpse decides to email back a person who has sent him quite a few creepy stories. She never seems to run out of scary encounters of both sorts: paranormal and stranger-danger. He gets suspicious that the stories are all made up so she can grab his attention, but he’s in for a surprise.

U/N - username

Requested: No

Corpse’s POV

I’m looking through my most recent emails from fans. They are all of scary encounters they’ve allegedly experienced. By now, I’ve read so many, it’s easy to decipher which are real and which are just made up nonsense. Some, I must admit, give me chills. Big props to the people who write those, especially if they are made up. If you can make someone’s skin crawl with your twisted, frightening imagination, you have one, for lack of a better term and in the most positive way, fucked up mind.

My cursor lands on the familiar username I see almost every other week. U/N. They have been sending stories consistently for about three years now. They, and I’m saying they cause you can never be sure who’s hiding behind the username, are either the most unlucky person to walk the planet or the one with most twisted imagination and story telling skills. I’ll admit, sometimes I narrate a story just because it’s well written. Believability is not the only thing I go by, I also reward creativity. And this person, U/N, has had their spot in many of my videos in the last three years. I’m honestly hoping they are made up, or at least some of them, because not only are there too many of them, but none of them fail to give me that eerie paranoia after I read them or the chills while I read them.

Once again, they have submitted a downright terrifying story. It would be a shame if I didn’t narrate it.

It would be a shame if I....

If I never actually meet them.

This many run-ins with people with malicious intent, always getting away by some miracle, what if they one day don’t make it out alive to tell it.

My heart sinks a little at the thought. I feel like I know this person, like we’ve known each other for three years now. They know the things the whole internet knows about me, and I, along with my regular watchers, know their stories. That’s by no means enough, now that I think about it.

My next action is really out of character for me. I decide to reach out to them. My fingers fly over the buttons on my keyboard too fast for my rational side to try and stop them. Deep down, I know I’m doing the rightest wrong thing I’ve ever done. My previously sunk heart is now in its assigned spot again, beating quickly.

You don’t know what you’re doing

I maybe don’t, but knowing isn’t what’s important right now. I just wanna do it.

~ Hey, this is probably, what, your twentieth story so far. I’m just curious, how many of these are made up? By the way, your stories are amazing and I’ll probably keep narrating them even if they aren’t real. They’re just that good.

I send the email before I can talk myself out of it. I get up from my chair immediately afterwards, putting as much distance between me and the computer as possible, silently promising myself I won’t be checking my mail every five minutes.

Y/N’s POV

I anxiously refresh and refresh my email inbox, waiting for the dreaded email back from my professor. Being halfway through the college experience, I know how tough this professor’s class is and how much I suck at it. I sent him my completed assignment last night, barely making the deadline mind you, so now I’m sweating hardcore, staring my computer screen down.

After refreshing for the millionth time, I’m met with a new email which makes my heart stop for a second or two, my stomach dropping. Then I take the time to read the sender’s name, the subject and the first sentence of the email, and all the previous changes in me reverse. My heartbeat picks up speed, going faster than a galloping horse and my stomach turns, making me feel the sensation everyone calls ‘butterflies��.

Nah, man. This shit ain’t real. It can’t be.

But then again, what if it is. What if I’m about to full-on ignore my favorite youtuber because of my paranoia. Well, it’s not exactly unsupported. My life has been a shit show of unfortunate event and situations I’ve literally had to claw my way out of in order to stay alive. Now, when something of the sort happens, it’s just another weekday. However, I still wanna share these encounters. Not only because they are proof of the dangers girls have to deal with on a daily basis, but they also get narrated by one of my favorite people ever. What more can a girl ask for?

~ Listen, I’m really not looking forward to getting catfished. Please leave me alone

It’s short, not sweet, and to the point. It’s easy to understand, and it clearly states that I’m not falling for it if it’s a scam, but if it’s real....someone call 911 cause I think I’ll faint.

~ I get it, you have trust issues. But that’s understandable. From the creepy guy messaging you on all your social media. To the stalker you had from you high school, or even that teacher that turned out to not be a teacher at all and just a pedo, I see where the lack of trust is coming from. But I assure you, they only thing I wanna do is chat.

The shock and happiness overwhelm me when the reply arrives not even ten minutes later. 

Holy shit, this is him.

I start typing and then erase the typed half-sentence at least three times before receiving another email from him. From Corpse Husband. Corpse freaking Husband. How the fuck am I supposed to compose myself enough to reply to him, let alone sound cool and leave a good impression.

My hand shakes as I click the newly received email.

~ You probably don’t know what to say. Either that or you just don’t wanna talk to me. If you’re just baffled and surprised, reply with your name. If you want me to fuck off, ignore this email completely.

The smile I didn’t realize was there grows into a grin as small bursts of laughter escape me. Laughter caused by disbelief and shock. The type of laugh you let out when you score a good mark on the test you thought you completely fucked up.

~ Y/N. My name’s Y/N. 

PS: The stories are all 100% real. All happened. In the order I sent them too. And before you ask, I guess I’m just unlucky, but you are proving me wrong right now.

I don’t know where that confidence at the end came from, but I don’t care really. All that matters is that this might just actually be happening and it might be the best thing to ever happen to me.

~ Man, you’ve had it rough. Tell me, is there an easier way to access you than email. Like Insta DMs? I feel we have a lot to talk about and email is not the most convenient.

At this point, it feel so much like a fever dream that I decide to treat it as though it is. I just go with the flow.

~ Yeah, but first.....am I really not being catfished right now?

The email I receive as a reply to this message is empty of text but there’s a file attached. Not gonna lie, I am a bit hesitant to open it, but I decide that if this turns bad, I’ll just have to deal with it. In the meantime, I’ll believe it’s not a scam.

It’s an audio file: “No, Y/N, you are not being catfished.”

That voice. That god damn voice. It could convince me of anything. 

And now it’s convinced me into believing him. And finally letting out that squeal I was holding back before sending him my Instagram username.

[1800-omi]

death’s bride.

characters: sukuna x f! reader

warnings/genre: angst, yn pov, abuse, some intrusive thoughts (?), choking, just sukuna being a toxic asshole

wc: 1.6k

prompt: “will you be mine?” He then pressed the blade deeper into my throat and asked, “will you be death’s bride?” and i stared back into his eyes and whispered, “yes.” (except i made some lil edits)

notes: bitches say theyre not sluts until sukuna comes up, i’m bitches

Being the eldest daughter, I always knew my responsibilities; Look after the younger kids, help mother with the chores, cook, et cetera. My family was never as privileged financially as other families in our town but we cared for each other, or at least that’s what I thought.

A couple of nights ago I overheard my parents talking about my father being in some sort of debt with someone really powerful, I don’t remember much from that night, what I do remember though is the fear in my father’s voice when he talked about this person. The next thing I knew, my mother was explaining to me how they’re going to have me get married to this man in order to pay my father’s debt. I am not sure how I felt about this at the time, I don’t think it matters anymore, I’m doing this for my family.

Right now, I’m alone in a carriage on the way to my husband’s home. I didn’t get to exchange a word with the coachman of the carriage and the windows are covered by curtains from the outside, I have no idea where this place is. This is definitely not how I had imagined my marriage would play out, but I guess it’s too late to lose all hope– maybe this man who I’m now going to call my husband is kind, generous, and honest. Maybe he will truly love me. My childhood dreams of finding real love are not shattered yet. I close my eyes thinking about my now-husband, slowly drifting away in a comfortable sleep.

I wake up to the coachman gently shaking my shoulder, his face is hidden under a mask. Once he sees I have awakened he quickly takes his hand off me as if he wasn’t supposed to be touching me in the first place.

“We have arrived.” He announces before getting off the carriage. “This will now be your new home.”

I slowly get out of the carriage and look at the huge mansion in front of me. This place radiates such a dark aura, and the mist of the early morning doesn’t give make it better.

I turn to the coachman, “Thank you.” He doesn’t reply, at first I’m not sure whether he heard me or not but I do not repeat myself. Instead, I walk towards the entrance where 2 maids seem to be waiting for me. For some reason, these maids are also wearing the same type of masks the coachman was wearing.

Upon walking inside my new home, I can’t help but look around at every detail of the place – from the marble floor to the murals on the ceiling. This place is gorgeous and so different from what I’m used to. Eventually, I’m lead to a huge bedroom to which the maids tell me is mine.

“Aren’t me and my husband going to be sleeping in the same room?” I ask only to receive what I assume to be a stare and no answer. After a few seconds of silence, they continue to tell me that my husband has invited me for dinner tonight and that the clothes I’m expected to wear are in the closet and they exit. I’m being invited to dinner in my own house, it’s weird to think about. Does this mean I won’t be having dinner with him every day? I have so many questions but no one willing to answer them. All I have left to do now is wait for dinner time to come into this room, which I was advised earlier not to exit.

I spend my day reading some of the books that were already on the shelves of my room and looking outside from the long and thin windows. I wonder what’s the reason for the shape of the windows, it’s almost as if they were made so that people could escape from them... No, that can’t be it. No one would feel the need to escape from here. The windows’ shape was probably a stylistic choice. Maybe my husband is a stylish person?

I look at the huge clock by the wall, I should start getting ready, it’s almost time. I open the closet and find a beautiful red dress in it, I take off my other clothes and carefully put it on. I don’t think I’ve ever worn clothes this soft, this dress must have been expensive. I never thought I would one day be looking at myself in the mirror and be wearing such luxurious clothes. I open the jewelry box on the shelf and pick out a necklace and put it on. Yes, this is it, he’ll love it. Now all that’s left to do is sit and wait.

Ultimately, one of the maids comes by to let me know they’ll be taking me to the dinner. My heart is beating quickly and I have a weird feeling in my stomach, I’m feeling a mix of stress and excitement. I’m finally going to meet the one I’ll spend the rest of my life with.

I get led into another very big room, this one has a big table in the middle of it along with many chairs. The maids tell me where to sit and instruct me on what I should do once their master enters the room.

While waiting, my stress can’t help but grow, I lightly tap my finger against the table until I hear the grand doors open. I immediately turn my gaze towards them to see a tall man in a light-colored kimono with a black edge. The kimono wasn’t the only thing standing out, this man also has some unique markings on his forehead, cheeks, and nose, I wonder if he has them around his body too. I quickly remember what the maids have told me and I bow to him. He doesn’t say a word and neither do I since I’ve been told not to speak unless spoken to. I hear his footsteps while I’m still bowing, is he approaching me? My heart speeds up as he puts his hand under my chin and lifts it, making me look at him. He looks down at me with his red eyes, meanwhile, I notice he’s got some markings on his wrists as well.

“Hm,” he finally speaks up, “you’re rather pretty, just like I’ve been told.” His voice is deep and husky, and quite scary if you ask me. “What is your name?” He asks.

“YN.”

“Hm, pretty name as well. Great, I won’t have to change it then.” Change it? If he didn’t like my name he would’ve just changed it?

His hand slowly went from holding my chin to being wrapped around my throat, making me gasp.

He then stared straight at my eyes, as he said, “will you be mine, YN?” He then tightened the grip around my throat and asked, “will you be death’s bride?” and I stared back into his devilish eyes and whispered, “yes.”

“Good.” He whispered back and smirked, holding my throat for a few more moments. Eventually, he lets go of my throat, in response to which I take deep breaths and continue to gasp for air. Is this what I’ll be going through every day? He ignores my struggling and takes a seat before starting to eat.

“Quit exaggerating, it wasn’t that bad.” He ordered and I eventually calmed down, before sitting back in my place. I look at the food in front of me and slowly start eating, choosing to ignore what just happened. Maybe there is some good in the man I still haven’t seen.

“Did anyone say you could start eating?” He asked, making me freeze. He lets out a sigh before continuing, “I’ll give you a pass since it’s your first time. But I don’t want to see you making the same mistakes anymore or there will be consequences.”

I look at him in the eyes, “What consequences, my lord?” It probably wasn’t a good idea to ask him that, it probably isn’t a good idea to talk to him at all.

He grins at me before letting out a laugh, “You’ll join the other wives.”

Chills are sent down my spine by his response. Other? There are others? Or at least there were. Just how many other women did this man abuse? Most importantly what happened to them? All I am left to do is wonder since I doubt anyone will be willing to tell me about them. How did I end up here?

“Oh, you can leave now.” He speaks up again. I look at him, confused. “I have nothing else to say to you, you can leave.” He explains. He won’t even let me finish my dinner, but a part of me is thankful I don’t have to spend another minute in his presence. I get up and take a bow again before leaving the dining room. I ignore the maids and swiftly walk to my room by myself. After closing the door behind me I lay on the bed as tears start rolling down my cheeks. I can’t believe this is my life now, if he was capable of doing that the first time I met him, what will he be doing to be in the future? I am never going to be enough for this man. If his other wives weren't enough, nor am I. This can’t be happening! What have I done to deserve this? Do I have to live the rest of my life scared of this man? This man I’m now supposed to call my husband? I sob lightly and try to wipe my tears. I close my eyes trying to fall asleep, part of me hoping I won’t wake up again. The sleep I fall into that night was so different from the one I had back in the carriage. In that one, I dreamt of meeting someone with whom I’ll be happy, someone who’ll truly love me, in this sleep I see nothing but nightmares.

thank you for reading! reblogs are appreciated <3

[alreadyblondenow]

One is a big number | Lee Taeyong

❤︎ Taeyong x female!reader ❤︎ Very fluffy, Smut, Smut, Tiny bit of angst, Highschool AU, Strangers to lovers, Love Alarm universe, Love Alarm au? ❤︎ 1/4 for LOVE MONTH SERIES: Boys Don’t Cry  One is a big number | You and your words | Sweet | He loves me, he loves me not |

Summary: Under the universe of Love Alarm, you rang Lee Taeyong’s Love Alarm loud and proud and you as a new girl at the school, has his attention more than anything else. 

Word count: 7,682k

Warnings: Protected sex, loss of virginity, touching, teasing, making out, corruption, goodbye innocence, mentions of first base to home run, taeyong having a boner while kissing, all that high school exploring in bed while Taeyong’s parents are not home, Trusting an app regarding love, swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of other idols

A/N: PURE FICTION. PURE FICTION. PURE FICTION. This will be very fluffy because I wanted to start February on a light note. hehe. Also, this is inspired by First Love by NCT 127 under Loveholic’s single. It’s a good thing that I finished this before they announced that First Love is all about your first... love... hahaha so I had time to incorporate in more with my fic. As always, I enjoy writing for my Bubu. Happy reading! 

For NCT-WRITER’S FEBRUARY EVENT, LOVE ALARM @nct-writers​ 

Can you still remember your first love? The day you met and the day you realized you officially like that person? 

When that one person hold your hand for the first time? Did he kept you close and kept you warm? 

When that one person kissed you for the first time? How did it feel?

When you had your first fight, how did you fixed it? 

Do you remember the time when you realized that, that one person is slowly slipping into your hands?

When that one specific person broke your heart? 

Do you remember it?

It’s been over four years since Love Alarm has been launched and they’ve been using it for almost everything. The world seemed to have progressed a lot now that we have Love Alarm in our phones but did it really made our lives easier? Especially when it comes to love? 

Walking to school on a beautiful day, your first day as a transferee... what could possibly go wrong? As you enter the school premises, you see students holding their phones like they’re waiting for something or someone. Perhaps they’re waiting for someone to ring their Love Alarm? Who knows? 

“He’s here!” A rather excited student exclaimed and brought out her phone and grabbed her friend. You being the only clueless student right now turned your back too to see the man they’ve been waiting for.

He was like a celebrity when he stepped on the first few steps upon the school’s entrance. Lee Taeyong, a senior. Very good looking, smart, athletic, and voted junior prom king. He literally looks like an angel walking in the middle of the school’s entrance together with his friends who look liked angels too. Their Love Alarm rang so much as they walk in front of the new and old students, making fun of each other and having a bet on whose Love Alarm will ring the most. 

You looked at him. You looked at his face like you don’t already know that it’s impolite to stare at someone, but you still did because Lee Taeyong is handsome. And you’re not immune to his charms. What a good way to start school, you thought. It’s only the first day but you feel like you’re going to have a blast as long as you see Lee Taeyong around. 

From there on Lee Taeyong has become your crush and your heart thumps so hard whenever you ring his Love Alarm every morning like the other girls. For you, there’s no shame in ringing his Love Alarm, you’re glad it does that. At least you’re being honest to him in silence and let the alert from Love Alarm do the talking. But even though you ring his Love Alarm again and again and again, you never wish for him to ring your Love Alarm back, no. He deserves someone perfect like him. 

Day by day and whenever you see him around, you look at him to feed your heart and eyes then look away again and ignore him as if you didn’t ring his Love Alarm loud and proud. It frustrates him you know, but in a good way. He now recognizes you as the new girl who rings his Love Alarm every day but seems to don’t care about him enough. In other words, you’re not like the other girls. 

You know that good feeling when you go to school and you’re looking forward to seeing your crush even just for a few seconds? That’s what Lee Taeyong feels for you. With just a couple of weeks of ringing his Love Alarm, you had the man thinking about you and wanting to know you. Sometimes he can’t understand Love Alarm. He is completely sure that he likes you already and he is very interested in you, but he can’t ring your alarm. 

Have you ever had that good feeling when your crush is around and you are free to look at him no matter how long you want and whenever he caught you staring you just avoid his eyes? It’s like playing chicken but you’re both enjoying the game, he smiles at you and brings up his phone as if he’s telling you ‘Thank you for ringing my Love Alarm again’ and you just smile at him, completely clueless that he’s starting to flirt. 

“Why don’t you just ring her Love Alarm back?” Doyoung asked. 

“Cant. For some twisted reason, I can’t ring her Love Alarm. That’s why I can’t make a move and can only flirt back, I want to trust Love Alarm” Taeyong says, eyes completely glued to you but you don’t know that because you’re busy reading.

“Maybe you don’t really like the girl?” Doyoung blurted out. Lee Taeyong didn’t really want to admit it with his friend but maybe he’s right.

“The Lee Taeyong flirts back now huh? And to a new girl? Interesting” Johnny swings his arm to his friend and ruffles his hair. Teasing him for flirting back at you because he saw Taeyong smiled in your direction. 

“Am I not allowed to flirt?” Taeyong snorted and turned off his Love Alarm when he saw the place getting crowded already. “It’s senior year, I need to change” he added. 

“So changing your relationship status is a good start? Hmm. Okay, I agree with you on that. But don’t waste your time if you're unsure,” Johnny explains. But Lee Taeyong doesn’t care, he looks at you as you gather your books thinking of many ways to start talking to you and secretly wishing he can ring your Love Alarm back. But for now, he just can’t. 

While you were studying at the library, you can’t help but remember how Lee Taeyong thanked you for ringing his alarm.... he fucking thanked you, that must be something? He isn’t thanking every single person who rings his alarm, just you. You smile at that thought which you think is crazy but a girl can dream. Then again you remember that you’re studying and shook your head for the nth time to stop yourself from thinking about your senior. 

When you finally focused on studying and finished tons of school work, you didn’t notice that it’s already dark outside and that going home alone would be scary but you have no choice. You walk and walk and walk until you finally reached that scary alleyway you’ve been trying to avoid but it’s your only way home. 

“Hey- don’t go there” 

A familiar voice warned you before you can even start walking, you turned around and wish that you were wrong but you weren’t. It is as if the world heard you thinking about Lee Taeyong and the universe made you meet in an unexpected way. “It’s dangerous there, where are your friends? Is that your way home?” He asked the question like you two were close and talking already, his face looked cold but funny how he makes you feel warm. 

“Yes, this is the only way. Usually, I go home when the sun is still up but I have to study” you explain. 

“I have no choice then. Let me walk you home, my conscience will not let me sleep if I just let you-“

“I can take care of myself, I can easily call my dad. If I refuse your offer, will you still think about me?” You don’t know where the sudden bravery came from but you’re glad you did it.

He was completely shy, blushing and keeping his head down. And that’s the push that Lee Taeyong needed. He held out his hand and introduced himself properly like a decent person would and you did the same. Both hands are shaking because of nervousness but that’s understandable you both thought. “This isn’t how I imagined meeting you officially-“ 

“So you do think about me?” You further tease the blushing man and finally admits the truth and said, “Yes. I do think about you. A lot” it was silent for a few seconds before he started again, “I wish I could ring your Love Alarm too, you make me nervous you know that? Whenever I’m in school I look forward to seeing you, even just for a few seconds” he came closer to you as you grip your bag tightly and the butterflies in your stomach won’t stop flapping their wings when Lee Taeyong put strands of hair behind your ear so he could see you clearly under the lamppost light. 

Either way, you still let him walk you home and cherish every second you could have with your crush. You feel like you’ve won something like you’re winning this nonexistent race with the other girls, you feel happy for yourself. He told you about his day, you told him yours, he made you laugh, you make him shy for no reason. And when you and Taeyong finally reached your house, you exchanged numbers. Now you can tell that you’re winning something. His attention and interest.

“I hope I can ring your Love Alarm,” he says again, looking at you like it’s going to be the last thing he’ll do. 

“That’s fine, ring mine when you’re ready. We can’t rush romance, even when Love Alarm is involved” you watch him let out a small laugh and you think he’s so handsome even when he’s cute. 

“Usually girls get offended when someone they like can’t ring their Love Alarm, but you... you don’t mind waiting” 

You didn’t want to end the moment yet but it’s getting pretty late and he needs to go home too, you told him to stop flirting and go home safe so he can flirt with you some other time. And for the last time, just to wrap this wonderful night, he tilts his head and smiled so sweetly to you and told you ‘good night’ 

That moment you had with Lee Taeyong felt like a pretty damn good song but just like every song, it needed to end. But you will never forget about it. 

After that momentous night with your crush, Lee Taeyong has become a whole entire playlist and a well written album wrapped into one. Every love song you listen to was suddenly all about him he and the man was head over heels to you. He was texting you nonstop even during class, calling you after school and will probably end later at night, and getting the tiniest chance to flirt with you in the morning before you both head to class and meet again by golden hour to walk home together.

Not long after a week of flirting and getting to know each other more, he finally rang your alarm in front of many students in school accidentally. Your eyes went big and Taeyong was as shocked as you are. It was like you have this 10-meter radius for yourselves only and you were both giggling when your Love Alarms went off together. It was a happy moment, definitely one for the books. “Finally” he whispers, standing close to you, not caring if a lot of people are watching. Let them watch, Lee Taeyong thought. So they know you belong to each other now and you have Love Alarm on your side. 

“Are you free this weekend?” He asks while walking you home. 

“Free, but I have to study. What do you have in mind?” you answered as calmly as you could because you have a hunch that he’s going to ask you on a date. 

“Well, now that I can finally ring your Love Alarm, I want to take you out on a proper date” you knew it, “movies?” 

“Sounds fun, as long as it’s scary” he nods and took his phone out of his pocket. 

“Can I ring your Love Alarm again?” He requests which you gladly gave in and opened the app. You two waited for a few seconds for Love Alarm to work its magic. 

Waiting

Waiting 

Waiting

Until the number ‘1’ appeared on your screens and says “Someone within 10-meter radius loves you”. Taeyong sighed in relief and swing his arms around you for a hug and a kiss on the forehead. “That scared me” he admitted. 

Unconsciously, he doesn’t know what his hug and kiss can do to you. While his heart calms as he hugs you, yours is beating so fast like you just ran a mile. There’s that winning feeling again. 

On your first date, he took you to the movies and as promised the movie was scary. It was so scary that he had enough opportunity to hold you close and hold your hand the whole time. The moment your fingers intertwined, you felt some kind of electricity flowing in your body and the movie house suddenly felt warm. “I know, I felt it too” he whispers and went back to watching the movie. 

The next few days with Taeyong was something you’ve never imagine that will happen in your high school life. He has become the epitome of new things and first times. 

He is the first guy to hold your hand in public. Swinging it high, up and down, holding it tight, and he even kisses it whenever he feels like it. Not a day goes by that he didn’t hold your hand or kept you close to him ever since you made it official through Love Alarm. 

He is the first guy to sweep you off your feet, through his sweet words and gentleman gestures. “Can I flirt with you later?” he asks, putting a bottle of juice in front of you before he goes to his next class. ‘Flirt with you’ simply means he wanted to spend time with you before he walks you home. 

Still in your school uniforms, Taeyong brought you somewhere quiet where the river is calm, and just looking at it makes you calm your nerves too. “The sun feels nice, let’s watch the sun go down,” he says lying comfortably on the ground and enjoying the warm grass underneath his body. 

“How’s your day?” you sat beside him and Taeyong was quick to cover your legs with his school coat. He grunted while covering your legs as he remembers how stressful being a senior is. 

“Was having a bad day, when I talked to you earlier. School has been kicking my butt” he says and lies again beside you. “How about you? How's being a new student so far?” 

“So far so good, I have a handsome senior who just made my high school life more interesting” 

He handsomely giggles in front of you, so close that your lips are just inches away. “You’re flirting,” he says. 

“You said you wanted to flirt with me?” you bite back. 

“Mmm-hmm. Can I flirt a little differently today?” he came even much closer to you but you didn’t pull away because you know exactly what he’s talking about. 

And just as you expected, he kissed you. Softly. Holding your chin as he moves his lips on yours while the sun goes down. Your eyes were shut and all you did the whole time your boyfriend was kissing you is return the kiss and savor the feeling of being kissed for the first time. 

When the kiss was over, he did not pull away immediately but looked at your lips for a few seconds as if he wanted to kiss it again but even more fiercely this time but he knew this is not the right time for that. So instead, he kissed your nose and your forehead and flashed a sweet smile at you. Something that you will never forget like the kiss you just shared a few seconds ago.   

After that day, kissing became an everyday habit to you and Taeyong and you both love it whenever you get the chance to share a kiss privately. Well, he does kiss you in public, but those are nothing compared to the ones you share inside his room after school and his parents are not yet home. Lee Taeyong’s lips are simply addicting but little did you know that your boyfriend is even more addicted to kissing you. 

“Just one more kiss” he pulls you close to him begging for another kiss before he watches you go inside your house. “One more please” he pouted like the baby that he is. 

You crashed your lips on him and feel both of his hands hold the sides of your head so you won’t pull away from him so easily. But when you do, he simply asks for another kiss and then another other, until you’re basically making out in front of your house. 

“Mmm” he moans like he’s not planning to stop kissing you soon. 

“Tae-“ you giggle and tried pushing away and finally, he stopped. Lips swollen, slightly panting with a…. hard cock. 

“Sorry about that. I- I have no control over that, I’m sorry” he apologizes and tries to hide his boner. You let out a small laugh and fixed his ruined hair with a few pat. 

“You don’t have to be shy, I’m your girlfriend. See you tomorrow, okay? Go home safe!” you slowly walk towards your house, waving your hand goodbye until you see him walk away. 

Just like any new couple, you and Taeyong crave for each other in many ways. After exploring enough with kissing and teasing each other whenever one of you gets too turned on, soon you talk about different levels of physical intimacy freely without being awkward. 

Given that Taeyong is more experienced than you are because you’re a virgin, he knew exactly what to do when it comes to expressing his physical needs to you and making sure that he doesn’t pressure you with anything. 

“So how do I know if what base are we on?” you asked innocently. 

“First base is kissing. Open mouthed kisses, tongue- basically, the things I already did to you or the things we did already” he explains, hands on your waist as you both lie on your sides facing each other. 

“I’m guessing we're way past first base then” you smirked and made him shy. 

“Yeah. Way past first base” he smirked back at you and hovers on top of you. “The second base is more on touching” he emphasized the word ‘touching’ and better explain it by moving his hand from your leg up until he reaches your inner thighs under your school skirt and run up a finger on your slit unexpectedly which made you curl in no time and curse at him. Not because you didn’t like it, but because it felt good and he immediately stopped the teasing. 

You glared at him as if you’re telling him through your eyes to touch you again, be he just snorted and kissed your cheeks. “Don’t hate me. I’m just waiting for the perfect timing” he explains and enjoys how you’re so annoyed but horny.

You let out a sharp sigh and made him continue again. “Third base is giving head or fingering. Oh, you’re going to love third base” he teased you further by just using his words. You pushed him away from you playfully but your boyfriend is strong and caught your hands, “okay okay. Enough teasing, home run is having sex. And come on I have to get you home before I could no longer stop myself” 

He’s not lying because you see the growing tent in his crotch. He’s been stopping himself by teasing you. You sat up when he got out of his bed to change into some much comfortable clothes but when he got back, you teased him by putting on a show. Lifting your skirt slowly just before you reveal your panties and as expected, he stopped you. 

“Don’t tease me, I don’t have a condom right now” it was a warning but it sounded more like he’s begging. 

“I’m just joking” you kissed him on the cheek and got up from your comfortable position to fix your wrinkled school uniform before you head home.   

Tonight, you attend a party with Taeyong for the first time and his Love Alarm kept on ringing the moment he stepped into the room. 

Every day, Lee Taeyong rings your Love Alarm and you ring his too.... together with the other girls and quite frankly, you don’t know how long you can stand those girls who fantasize about fucking your boyfriend. He’s your own private buffet, for goodness sake. 

“Don’t drink anything unless I’m the one who gave it to you, okay? I’ll get you something- Doyoung!” he made sure you won’t be alone and called his friend before he leaves. 

“So you’re the lucky girl. Hi, I’m Johnny” he offers you his hand for a handshake and accepted with a smile. 

“Don’t mind Johnny, hi I’m Doyoung. Taeyong’s best friend,” you shake his hand and smiled at them, hoping that you don’t look awkward. They made small talk, asked you how you’ve been and how’s your Junior year going so far which you answered too seriously. Soon, you feel Taeyong’s cold hands on your shoulders and hands you a drink before he shoos his drunk friend Johnny away. 

It was a fun night, but it can be better if the other girls can respect your relationship. You wanted to snap so hard but instead, you focused on how Taeyong kisses your nape, shamelessly while you watch his friends play beer pong and he’s standing right behind you, hands on the front pockets of your jeans like he’s telling those girls he belongs to you. 

But the warm feeling was shortly cut off when they heard Johnny shouting and drunkenly pushing himself to walk straight so he could get a hold of his girlfriend. Everyone heard it. The words, “Johnny were through. I’m breaking up with you” were heard on every corner of the place even under loud party music. 

After hearing those words, you looked at Taeyong like you’re telling him through his eyes that you’re scared. But Taeyong and his other friends were quick to get Johnny and stopped him from making a scene. 

Everything happened so fast. One second Taeyong was beside you, but now you're in the middle of the place alone and watching your boyfriend and his friends carry Johnny outside. 

“Johnny didn’t ring her love alarm today,” Taeyong sits beside you after leaving you alone for a few minutes to talk to his friend. “And if he’s going to be honest he fell out of love. But he wasn’t ready to let her go and wasn’t sure about his feelings, he’s just being paranoid because he’s going to graduate soon” he let out a sharp exhale before he continues, “We're going to graduate soon. I guess Love Alarm caught him having second thoughts for her already” 

“Do you want to leave now?” you asked your boyfriend. He can only nod because he still feels weak about what happened to his friend. 

 The supposedly warm night with Taeyong became cold and quiet. Not because there’s something wrong with your relationship. But because you were both scared of the idea of breaking up. He wanted to tell you he saw the look in your eyes when you heard the words but he figured enough sadness for one night, wrapped his arms around you and told you “I will never let you go” and kissed you on your temple. 

Few days after the party is exams week so you and Taeyong didn’t see each other that much. But by the time it’s over, he waited for you outside the school and you know he’s the one waiting for you because he rang your Love Alarm. 

While walking to his house, it suddenly rained so hard that the raindrops hurt your skin. But instead of avoiding the rain, Taeyong pulled you in the middle of an empty street and kissed you under the rain. 

It was so sweet. 

His arms were perfectly wrapped around your body while yours is placed behind his lower back. You tiptoe unconsciously so you could reach him well. “I love you,” he says and lifted you off the ground effortlessly for a tight hug. 

“Here wear this” He left some clean clothes on his bed for you to change with while he puts your wet uniform on the dry cleaner. 

When you’re finally dry and clean, you cuddle with Taeyong in his bed wearing his big clothes and listening to the sound of rain with no lights on, but the gloomy sky outside. 

“I saw the way you looked at me the other night” he started. And you tighten your embrace to him as you remember the words and the whole scenario. 

 “I'm just scared and not because I’m doubting your love” you admitted. “I never thought about it you know. That things can go wrong someday-“

“No, no. Then I’ll love you, even more, every day. Don’t be scared please, trust my love” he says and kept you close by putting his legs on your thigh. His big hand is placed under your shirt, drawing small circles on your tummy to give you more comfort. 

“I’m guessing this is second base then?” you teased him to change the mood. 

“Do you want to proceed to that level? Hmm?” he rolls on top of you, teased you, and kissed your neck in a way that seriously turned you on in no time. 

“If you’re brave enough to do it, then go right ahead. I give you my full consent” you reached for his lips and kissed him deeply. You felt him smile during the kiss and also felt his hand slowly lifting your shirt or rather his shirt. Hands roaming your body like he never touched you before, squeezing your butt cheeks and kneading your clothed boobs. To be honest, he’s shy to put his hand inside your clothes but to his shock, you put yours inside his, bravely touched his body, and shamelessly put your hand inside his sweatpants and touched him. 

That made him swallowed his shyness and knead your unclothed breast under the shirt that you’re wearing. Brushing his fingers on your nipples softly, pinching them to make giggle. 

After a few minutes of intense touching, he was slightly tugging the sweat pants that you’re wearing and asked you, “Do I still have your consent if we proceed on third base?” He whispers oh so sexily beside your ear which made you remember what he told you, ‘you’re going to love third base’ and that is enough for you to nod and give him further permission. 

He kissed you on the lips, his way of saying ‘thanks’, and proceeds to lift your shirt and suck your nipples which made you moan his name and grip his locks so tight that he needed to reach for your hands and intertwine them with his. 

Lee Taeyong showed you who is in bed and you can't help but think that you’re the luckiest girl on Earth. 

“Hey, you okay? You’re spacing out, I think should-“ 

“Don’t stop” you moaned and grabbed his head for a deep kiss. You reach for his hand and made him knead your boobs while you kiss and grind on each other and in a matter of minutes you felt him putting his hand inside your panties while he distracts you with the way he kisses you. He flicks his fingers once and you curled immediately, legs wide open so he could freely move his hand. But soon his patience went thin and removed your panties, throwing it on the side of the bed before spreading your legs even more wider. 

“Do you like this side of me?” He whispers on the shell of your ear and bit it eventually making you tickle and giggle with parted lips. 

“I definitely do” you moan out. 

And for the main event under third base, he kissed your body all the way down until he meets your wet entrance. Kissing your inner thighs first before he proceeds to drive you wild with his tongue. 

First, he parted your wet folds, looked you straight in the eye, and licked you like you’re his favorite flavored ice cream. “Tae-“ is all you can moan out and decided to put your hands above your head and grab hold of his headboard. Which he didn’t like so he stopped and told you, “touch me, I like that” 

And so you did. Gripping Taeyong’s locks as he makes you feel good with his tongue. Putting a finger inside your cunt and flick his tongue faster together with his finger, making you cum in no time and crushing your boyfriend’s head with your legs. “Stop- stop” you cry out because of over sensitivity. “You weren’t going to stop eating me unless I told you so” 

He smirked and hummed because you’re right. He gave you a few minutes to catch your breath, taking that time to strip himself naked without you noticing. And when you finally came back from your high, he kisses your lower stomach and there you see your boyfriend all naked and really horny. 

“I want to have sex,” he shamelessly told you, touching your body with care while he waits for your answer. “Can we have sex?” he kisses you more like he’s persuading you. 

“Do you finally have a condom?” You asked with a smile. 

He did not waste any time and get the condom from his drawer, putting it on in front of you. Putting it on in between your wide open legs and very wet slit. 

“Put your arms around me,” he said and you followed immediately. He ran his protected cock on your wet slit, just to make him hard even more but the feeling for you is very different. You are very much aroused, very horny and it already felt good. So when you feel him poke your tight hole and slowly push in finally, your eyes shut close and feel every inch of Lee Taeyong’s cock go inside you oh so fucking slowly until he’s entire inside. 

He grunted and moan directly on your ear and told you, “virgin no more” and kissed you on your temple before he rolls his deep which made you both crazy and even more horny for each other. 

Your tight walls were so wet because of the foreplay that his cock was sliding in smoothly, hurting you good and stretching you right before he fucks you harder. 

“Fucking thin condoms, I feel like I’m fucking you raw,” he said in between thrust and rolling his tongue on your nipple, tugging and biting it as he pleases. 

When he sees you smiling through the pleasure and felt your body more relaxed, he put his mouth on your mouth and made you catch his moans as he fucks you harder and faster, enough for his bed to creak, your body to be dragged on the mattress and your nails to dig on his skin. 

He came hard and had a great orgasm, slowly thrusting deeper as he rides his high and showers you with kisses. Truth be told, he didn’t want to cum just yet but your tight walls did its magic on him.

The moment he pulls out to discard the condom, he went back to kissing your weak body and told you to “Calm down,” oh so sweetly, and eventually giggled when he saw you still breathing heavily.

“How can I calm down if you’re kissing me like that?” 

“Okay I’ll stop,” he says and pulled down your shirt to cover your exposed body, reached for your panties, and helped you wear them again then covered you with his thick sheets. “Better?” 

“Yes, thank you” you smiled weakly at him and watched him get dress again before he joins you under the covers.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, hoping that you’re okay. “Are you hurt somewhere?” 

“How many girls did you bring here before me?” You watch your boyfriend’s eyes get big upon hearing your question, “I’m joking. And no, nothing hurts. I’m just processing everything that happened. How about you? What are you thinking?” 

“I’m thinking about you, how I want you to be the last girl I have sex with in this bed” it was a joke because he only brought a total of two girls into his room. His first girlfriend and you. 

“Buy a new bed or I’m breaking up with you,” you said with a straight face but he clearly knew you’re joking. 

They say that being close with your partner emotionally, physically, and even sexually can strengthen a relationship. And right now, as you celebrate seven months of being in a relationship with Taeyong, you believe in that saying because you’ve been closer than ever after being intimate for the first time. In other words, the sex was a good way to strengthen your relationship. 

“Why do you love reading so much?” he asks, totally jealous over reading a good book rather than talking to him. 

Taeyong is busy nowadays because he’s graduating in a few weeks and he’s part of the prom committee because he has seriously good leadership skills. That’s why maybe he wanted more attention.

“Oh! I'm gonna miss you when you graduate” you pinch his cheek and sat closer to him. “Will you be fine being away from me?” You teased him but your question was serious. 

“No, I will not be fine. I will miss you every day- can we please talk about something else before I start crying?” he attacked you with kisses on the cheek but the moment was cut off when Johnny pullovers to fetch your boyfriend. 

“Have fun shopping for prom decorations with the boys rather than being in bed with me” you whisper to him while you both wear your bags and walk towards Johnny’s car. 

“I love you, go home safe, okay? I’ll call you as soon as we're done” 

During your walk alone, it felt nice to do something without Taeyong for once. Not that you wanted him to be gone, no. It’s just that nowadays, things have been becoming like a routine and less of a relationship. You go to school, see him before class starts, see him again after school, and go home together. Then you do it again the next day. Like you don’t have any more doors to unlock in this relationship. 

But what do you expect? You’re high school students. 

“Are you done studying?” 

“I can’t study tonight, my brain feels tired” you whine through the phone, eyes closed and thankful that it’s going to be the weekend tomorrow. “How about you?” 

“Well, Johnny accidentally broke a few lights so we need to fix it before we go home. I’m tired, I miss you” 

“Mmm. I’m tired too...” your voice was a little groggy. 

“And? Do you miss me too? Can I see you tomorrow?” 

“Tae, we just saw each other five hours ago and no, I want to enjoy my weekend by staying home and watching Netflix” 

“So you’re not having fun when we're out together?-“ 

“I never said anything like that” you opened your eyes because the conversation is getting pretty serious, “Don’t be angry, I just want some time for myself you know? We see each other every day, talk through text every hour, it’s like there’s no more room to breathe” you wish you can properly tell him what you’re feeling but those are the words that came out from your mouth. 

“Time for yourself, huh. Okay” and just like that, he ended the call. No ‘good night’ or ‘i love you’. And even though you’re sleepy and things escalated quickly, you heard the tone of his voice like a mixture of, annoyed and hurt. 

Instead of having a good night's sleep, you stayed up all night thinking about what you said to your boyfriend. Analyzing every word and repeating the scenario in your head, over and over again. If telling him what you want was wrong, then you don’t know what’s right anymore. 

On the next day, you sent him a few messages telling him that you’re sorry and that you didn’t mean to put it that way. You even told him you wanted to see him, hoping that he will finally get back to your messages. But still, he never replied. The whole weekend.  

Come Monday, you didn’t get to see Taeyong in the morning like you usually would because you and your friends did your group project together last minute. And the truth is, you’re starting to hurt because you feel bad for being honest even though you didn’t intend to hurt him like that. 

“I think you’re being too clingy” Doyoung protest to his friend during lunchtime.

“Girls love clingy boyfriends-“ 

“Well, unfortunately not your girlfriend. Give her some space, don’t make her all about you, you know?” 

“I just want every time I could get with her before I graduate. B-but, yeah. Now I’m giving her the time that she wanted for herself-“

“But you’re hurting her. She’s worried, she just wanted you to return her messages dude” Johnny pats his back and gave him the look like he’s saying ‘fix this before Love Alarm screw the situation further’ 

And while Taeyong is enjoying his lunch with his friends, you’re with your friends at the school bleachers watching the other sections use the field. Talking about hot boys, prom dresses, and what to do after prom.

“Did Taeyong asked you to prom already? Was it romantic?” you see the excitement of your friend as she asked you the question and see the others wait for your answer. 

“N-no. He hasn’t” the once cheerful faces were replaced by disappointment. Come to think of it, maybe he will not ask you to prom because of this stupid fight. You shook your head and returned the question to them and pretended that you care who’s taking them. But deep inside you envy them. 

School was always exhausted and you don’t know why you’re suddenly tired. Usually, after school and you meet Taeyong outside, you still have a lot of energy left. And maybe that’s it, Taeyong’s cheerful energy and happy aura are the ones recharging you after a day in school. That’s when you realized that you don’t need to push him away just so you can breathe.

Speaking of the devil, you see him leaning on Johnny’s car the moment you stepped out of the school grounds. Head down, hands inside his pockets, and waiting for you. 

The moment you stepped inside that 10-meter radius, his Love Alarm rang and he knew it was you. But the problem is, your Love Alarm didn’t ring this time. 

Taeyong didn’t notice it. Taeyong didn’t notice that your Love Alarm was silent. He still welcomed you with a tight hug, kissed your face one too many times, and said his sorry sincerely. It felt nice that you are now okay, he’s talking to you again and on top of that he apologized. Of course, you didn’t want to ruin that peace anymore and pretended that you’re not hurt.   

Few days went by and Taeyong hasn’t rung your Love Alarm and he’s too busy to notice it. Senior year is making him busy and you have nothing against that. Yes, you do miss him but he calls you before you sleep and quickly apologizes whenever he feels like he’s being a clingy boyfriend again. 

“N-no. Please, be clingy. I’m sorry for that night, I don’t know what I’m thinking” you sounded desperate but he doesn’t know why. 

“Okay, just making sure we don’t fight again” 

And few days before prom, he still hasn’t asked you yet while your friends all have dresses already and plans for that night. It sucks, but you don’t want to get mad at Taeyong for not asking you to prom because he’s busy. 

On a quiet afternoon after school, you’re waiting for Taeyong outside the school while reading a book, and page by page you digest every word just so you could stop thinking about prom. And just as you least expected it, your boyfriend asked you to prom on page 127 of the book that you’re reading. 

 “Will you go to prom with me?” -T.Y 

Then it hit you. You started reading this book on the day prom was announced so basically he asked you ever since day 1 and he has been waiting for your answer for weeks already. He just keeps on giving you more reasons to ring his Love Alarm loud proud, while you give him nothing to make him ring yours.  

“Finally. Hi” 

You didn’t know he was right behind you and his kiss brought you back on Earth. He was smiling handsomely and proud because his surprise worked on you, even though it took you a while to answer his question your reaction was worth it. 

“You know my answer Tae. And to be honest I thought you forgot about asking me” you finally admitted, but your lack of faith in him didn’t hurt him one bit. 

“Perfectly fine,” his arms swing around your waist and pulled you closer to him while you're sitting on the bench. “I’m free now and I don’t have prom committee duties. Can I flirt with you tonight?” the way he said it sounded just like old times, like the days when you were just starting as a couple. 

The flirting was continued in his room of course, with his thick curtains down, Netflix playing and hands intertwined the whole time. And after the movie, you two cuddled in bed with you on top of him and just listening to his heartbeat. 

“Does your heart beats for me?” you asked soft, hoping he would tell you the truth. 

“Of course, you’re my first love” true. Even though you’re not his first girlfriend, you’re the first girl he ever loved. 

“Your Love Alarm says otherwise Tae. I think I’m not giving you enough reasons to love me” you admitted. “You haven’t rung my alarm ever since our first fight” 

“W-what? Maybe it’s off?” He was panicking, shaking because maybe it’s true. With quick movements, he left you on his bed to get his phone then looked for your phone in your bag and opened the app to see if what you’re saying is true. 

His rang, of course, but yours didn’t. 

“Tae it’s okay- It doesn’t matter. You know you proved to me that you love me even if you can’t ring my Love Alarm” you went beside him and hugged him from behind. Feeling his frustration and anger to himself but your hug helps him a lot. “You tell and show me you love me every day. I can feel it in how you kiss me, how you treat me with respect and how you’re always patient with me. Come on it’s okay, don’t ruin your day” 

To make him feel better, you talked him out of his sulking and convinced him to go back to bed with you which eventually worked. You’re now sitting on top of him, grinding on his crotch, only wearing your panties and his hoodie. You can tell by the way he kisses you that he’s more than sorry about not ringing your Love Alarm and that makes your heart sad too because he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Let’s turn this night around,” you said before removing the hoodie that you’re wearing and making your boyfriend grip your boobs and play with your nipples while you kiss him and distract him as you undo his pants. 

“Clever” and finally he smiles and puts one of your nipples in his mouth, hands inside your panties and spreading your ass cheeks before he inserts a finger in your wet slit. 

After that night, Taeyong had a hard timing accepting that he can’t ring your Love Alarm again even though you told him so many times that it’s okay. Sometimes your conversation escalates too soon and he just ends up arguing with you. Soon fighting has become a weekly thing for the two of you whenever he brings up Love Alarm again. But that’s okay, couples fight and that’s normal. 

On prom night, you purposely did not bring your phone so Taeyong will not try to make your Love Alarm ring. It’s going to be a beautiful night and you didn’t want to ruin it for him. You danced with your boyfriend and went crazy with him on the dance floor, you dance with your friends and ate good food. In other words, you had a great time. 

And when the slow song started to play, everyone’s Love Alarm kept on ringing and people started to confess their feelings. It was amusing to watch and of course, you’re happy for them. But amidst that busy dance floor, that busy place, you and Taeyong had your own 10-meter radius and you don’t need Love Alarm to feel that you love each other. 

“I’m sorry for giving you a hard time these past few days” he started, swaying you under slow music and not caring what's happening around you even though people are very loud and excited. “Let’s stop using Love Alarm. That app lies. I know all too well that I love you and even though I can’t ring your Love Alarm, I sure know how to love you” 

“Mhmm. You do” oh you wanted to kiss him so badly but the teachers are looking. 

“You still love me right?” 

“Of course Taeyong. What kind of question is that?” 

“I know, I just want to hear you say it” he came closer to you and kissed you on your temple when the teachers looked away, “You look beautiful tonight” he added and dance with you more, looking straight into your eyes and thanking you secretly for liking him first. 

Now it's his turn to like and love you forevermore.