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theostrophywife · 10 months ago

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poison paradise.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: toxic by omido.

author's note: smutty unhinged theo won the poll. here’s your silly little treat. this came to me in a dream proving that even my subconscious isn't safe from theodore. this is pure filth, but ya'll already know that that's what i do best 🤪

The taste of cherry chapstick lingered on your tongue as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Lost in euphoria, you cried out just as a wave of pleasure crashed over you, dragging you to the depths of sensual self-indulgence.

Back arching off the bed. Fingers gripping the sheets. Moans echoing off the walls.

This was hedonism at its finest.

The heady scent of sweat, skin, and sex permeated in the air long after your orgasm passed, inducing you into a foggy haze as you scrambled to anchor yourself back to the present. Between your legs, your girlfriend lifted her head up with a pleased smirk and pressed a chaste kiss against your lips.

The kiss tasted like cum and cherries, a sweet and intoxicating combination that sent your head spinning. Hannah hummed, her pretty doe eyes focused on you while your own fluttered open.

“Babe, I’ve really got to get to practice now,” she whispered softly. “I’m late enough as it is.”

You chuckled, twirling a strand of her red hair between your fingers. “Whose fault is that? You’re the one who dragged me in here, love.”

Hannah grinned sheepishly as she pulled your red and gold skirt down. “Can you blame me? I can’t control myself when you’re strutting about in your cheer uniform.”

“Then go out there and give me something to cheer about, babe. I expect a win against Slytherin tomorrow.”

“If Potter doesn’t kill me first for being late,” she said with a final kiss to your cheek. “See you after practice?”

You nodded as you tossed her jersey over. “I’ll be here.”

After taking a much needed shower, you sat in front of the vanity and blasted music as you diligently adhered to your skincare routine. The best thing about having a girlfriend was that you shared everything. Since dating Hannah, your makeup, clothes, and shoe options doubled overnight.

As you combed through your hair, a sudden knock at the door caught your attention. You figured it was just a courtesy from Hannah’s roommate. Merlin knows that the poor witch had walked in on you and your girlfriend in countless compromising positions.

Tightening the scarlet robe around your waist, you sauntered over to the door, fully expecting Emma to greet you from the other side. Instead, a looming figure eclipsed the doorway. You were surprised to find none other than Theodore Nott staring back at you.

While you two weren’t exactly the best of friends given the rivalry between your houses, you and Theo were civil. You sat beside each other in Herbology and occasionally shared a laugh every time you caught him muttering sarcastic remarks under his breath about the ridiculous bloody plants that Professor Sprout had you wrangling during class.

“Well, what do we have here?” you teased, cocking your head at the dead eyed Slytherin. “A serpent in the lion’s den? What brings you behind enemy lines, Theo?”

Theo smiled back in response, shuffling a bit and allowing a glimpse of the wine bottle and bouquet of roses cradled in his arms. “Waiting for my girlfriend to leave so I can set this up for our anniversary.”

You grinned. “Oh, how romantic!” You had always been a sucker for cheesy gestures. It was the hopeless romantic in you. “Come in, then.”

To his credit, Theo kept his eyes firmly on your face as you ushered him inside the room. Taking the hint, you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom and changed into something a little less revealing than your silk robe. When you came out, Theo was sprinkling rose petals on the bed.

“Those are gorgeous,” you fawned over the flowers. “You’re definitely getting laid tonight.”

Theo smirked in response as he set the vintage wine bottle into a fancy crystal ice bucket. “That’s the plan.”

Slipping into your fuzzy slippers, you cocked your head at the arrangement. “Wait. I think you set it up on the wrong side. Emma’s bed is over there.”

Theo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know. This is for Hannah.”

Whatever warm, fuzzy feeling his sweet gesture invoked suddenly soured at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. “What do you mean it’s for Hannah?”

“Hannah,” Theo repeated slowly. “As in, my girlfriend, Hannah.”

The words hit you like the Hogwarts Express. Surely, Theo was mistaken. He had to be. That was the only explanation. “This can’t be right. I’m sure I heard you wrong. You can’t be dating Hannah.”

The confusion in your face was mirrored in Theo’s features. “And why is that?”

“Because I’m dating Hannah.”

Theo stared at you. You stared back. The room fell silent as the declaration hung heavy in the air.

“Wait,” he backtracked, furrowing his brows. “What? That’s not possible.”

“We’ve been dating since term started.”

“We’ve been dating since summer,” Theo countered. Disbelief dawned over his handsome features. “This is for our three month anniversary.”

Desperate to make sense of the situation, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your photo album. It didn’t take long to find a recent picture of you and Hannah. “See?” you said, pointing at the screen. “This is us sharing a hot fudge sundae in Hogsmeade just last weekend.”

Theo’s mouth gaped open as he pulled out his phone in response, scrolling through his pictures just as you had done moments ago. “This is us swimming in the lake last July.”

The photo of your girlfriend smiling up at the camera while Theo’s arms wrapped around her bikini clad body made your stomach plummet. The confirmation left a bitter taste on your tongue. There was no reason for Theo to be making this up, which left only one possible conclusion. Hannah was dating both of you. At the same time.

You pursed your lips. “Hannah played us both.”

Theo looked about as dejected as you felt. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” he muttered to himself.

“All that tension between you during the quidditch match,” you recalled. The lingering looks that Hannah and Theo shared during last month’s scrimmage flashed before your very eyes. In hindsight, it was obvious that there was more to it than rivalry.

“You know, I think I saw her kiss you on the cheek in the halls once, but she said that the two of you were just really close.”

“Oh, we are,” you said rather bitterly. “She’s kissed a lot more than my cheeks. Gods, how could I have been so stupid?”

“You’re not stupid,” Theo said softly. “How could we have known? Outside of Herbology, the two of us don’t really interact. We’re in different houses and our social circles rarely overlap. If you think about it, it’s actually the perfect plan.”

“Yes, bravo to our girlfriend for being the cleverest fucking liar in the castle.” You winced at the title. "Correction, ex-girlfriend."

Nott nodded in agreement. "Definitely ex-girlfriend."

"What a bloody mess."

Theo rubbed his temples. “Well, fuck.” The sentiment of total and utter confusion was one you knew all too well. “I am way too sober for this.”

Without a word, he swiped the bottle of wine from the crystal bucket and popped it open. You stared at him with slight bewilderment, which he responded to with a nonchalant shrug. “What? It’s not like I’m going to drink this with Hannah now after I found out that she’s been lying to me for three whole months.”

While Theo was taking the perfectly understandable approach of getting absolutely pissed off his arse, you weren’t willing to take the hit so easily. You were angry. Correction, you were fucking livid. Seething in the heat of your fury, you snatched the wine bottle from Theo’s grasp and chugged a good amount.

“That’s a vintage from my family’s vineyard. You’re supposed to sip slowly to really appreciate the flavor—“ Theo grimaced as you leveled him with a glare. “Or drown yourself in it. That’s fine, too.”

You swayed on your feet as you gestured dramatically. “I can’t believe she cheated on me!”

Who the fuck did Hannah think she was? You didn’t need this bullshit. She was the one who chased after you. Before she pursued you, you were perfectly fine ruling this school under your thumb, flashing pretty smiles and innocent doe eyed looks to the unsuspecting masses. You were head cheerleader, for fuck’s sake! You could’ve had your pick of boys and girls in this whole bloody castle. Even worse, Hannah dragged Theo into this too. While the Slytherins certainly had a reputation, he seemed sweet if not a little sardonic and cynical at times.

”I can’t believe she cheated on you.” You added, surveying the now tainted roses and wine. Indignation weighed heavily on every word. You and Theo were both hot as fuck and a complete catch. Neither of you deserved this. “We can’t let her get away with this.”

Theo sighed in response, taking the bottle from you and drinking a decent amount before wiping his wine stained lips with the back of his hand. “If I’m being honest, this isn’t the first time a relationship has imploded on me. Usually, it’s my fault. But I can’t say I’ve ever gotten cheated on. My ego’s taken a little bit of a blow, but what can we do? She fooled us both.”

“What can we do?” You repeated incredulously. “Obviously, you haven’t dealt with a Gryffindor’s wrath before. This is a matter of pride, Theo. She hit us where it hurts the most. I say we hit her back.”

Theo blanched, his watercolor eyes glazed from the alcohol. The wine was no joke. You never would’ve known it from the smooth taste, but this shit was strong. “As upset as I am, I hardly think violence is the answer. My mum told me to never raise a hand against a lady and I don’t intend on breaking that promise. No matter how angry I may be.”

For the first time in that fucked up night, you managed a laugh. Something about that was so endearing to you. “Relax, Nott. I don’t mean we hurt her physically. That’s not really my style. I have a much more effective way to enact revenge.” Your lips curled into a smile as Theo hung onto every word. “We’re going to wage psychological warfare on our ex-girlfriend, Theo.”

“I’ll confess I’m a little bit scared,” Theo declared as he gulped down the last of the wine. “And a little bit turned on. Guess that says a lot about me, huh?”

You smirked as you retrieved the wine bottle and gingerly set it on the nightstand. Theo glanced up at you curiously, anticipation evident on his handsome face. “What exactly is the plan, dolcezza?”

Whether it was the alcohol or your anger, a devious plan started forming as you looked over your ex-girlfriend’s now ex-boyfriend. “Hannah comes back from practice in an hour,” you stated, toying with the neck of the bottle. “She’s expecting to find me in bed waiting for her.”

Mischief danced in Theo’s eyes. Up close, you could see flecks of green swimming in his blue irises. Those mesmerizing eyes—the very same ones that had the entire castle weak in the knees—locked on yours. Now that you were single through no fault of your own, you had no reason not to ogle Theo and ogle you did. Your gaze flickered over his lean physique, examining his solid chest and broad shoulders before snagging on the sliver of skin that revealed the hard abdominal muscles beneath his light grey shirt as he stretched. A cocky smirk graced his handsome face when he caught you looking.

Merlin, he was fucking pretty.

How had you not noticed that before? Oh, right. You were too busy being a good girlfriend. Well, fuck that.

“Oh?” He murmured, his gaze flickering over you.

Though you changed into a baggy shirt and cotton shorts, you might as well have been naked with the way Theo was looking at you. His dead eyed stare burned holes into your skin and a shiver crawled up your spine as he gravitated closer.

“And she will,” you said with a smirk, closing the gap between you. “You’ll just be in it with me.”

“Oh,” Theo hummed salaciously.

“Wouldn’t wanna waste those pretty roses you got, do we?”

The low rasp of your voice seemed to entrance Theo as he shook his head, appearing dazed as you pulled him in by the front of his shirt. “No, no at all. We should…” The nervous bob of his Adam’s apple sent a thrill through your body. “We should definitely make use of them.”

With a grin, you led him towards the bed. Theo walked backwards, his eyes never leaving yours even as he landed on the mattress. The golden glow of the lamp kissed his sharp cheekbones, its warm hue coloring the slope of his nose, which were smattered with moles and freckles, before emphasizing his wine stained lips. The red roses fluttered around him as the bed dipped, soft petals tickling his skin as he settled against the headboard.

Theo felt like he was under a spell as you crawled over him. He couldn’t tell whether he was dizzy from the wine or if it was just the effect you had on him, but either way, he wasn’t complaining. There were worse things to suffer from than a pretty witch straddling his lap.

Instinctively, Theo gripped your waist while you settled over him. The sight of you leaning over him, your face mere inches away from his felt like a fever dream. One that he had no desire of waking up from.

“I thought you liked girls,” Theo whispered softly as your lips brushed over his. Teasing, taunting, tasting. Fuck, what he would give to have you devour him whole.

“I do,” you replied, tickling his cheek with a rose petal. Theo shivered as the low rasp of your voice pulled him in. “But I like boys too. Especially pretty ones like you.”

Theo couldn’t help but blush. Obviously, he was aware that he was attractive, but he’d never been called pretty before. He was surprised to find that he really fucking liked it.

“Don’t flatter me, dolcezza. Not unless you plan on following through.”

“I’ve never been with a Slytherin before,” you whispered huskily. “Tell me, Theo. Will you sink your teeth into me tonight?”

A part of him pondered the slightly fucked up situation that Theo managed to get himself into tonight. Was he really about to fuck his ex-girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend in her own bed? Yes. Did he feel an ounce of guilt over what he was about to do? No.

Honestly, fuck Hannah. But more importantly, Theo needed to focus on fucking you.

“Fuck yes.”

When you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, it was over. There wasn’t a single trace of self control in him as he kissed back, his mouth hot and eager against yours. The infamous Gryffindor boldness didn’t disappoint as you moaned into his mouth, your fingers threading through his silky brown waves before tugging in a way that made Theo weak in the knees. As he parted your lips with his tongue, you grinded against him and laughed seductively when he whimpered in response.

“Yeah?” you purred as you rolled your hips. “You like that, pretty boy?”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Theo groaned before he kissed you again, rougher this time.

There was something satisfying about the way he grabbed you, his big hands guiding you to grind over him, providing a delicious friction between your clothed sex. Theo was hard and throbbing underneath you. By the feel of him, you knew you were in for a ride. The sheer size of him was going to absolutely destroy you.

You pulled away and a glistening trail of spit extended between you as a result of your sloppy make out. Theo panted as you tugged at the hem of his shirt, keeping your eyes trained on him while you licked a path down his abdomen. He watched hungrily as you grazed your teeth over his hard muscles, flicking your tongue expertly while he shuddered underneath you.

“I can see why Hannah went for you,” you hummed against his tan skin. “You’re hot as fuck. Your abs are unreal and your happy trail,” Theo groaned as you pressed soft kisses along his torso. “It leads to something delicious, doesn’t it?”

“Fuck, bella. You’re killing me,” Theo groaned as he fisted your hair in one hand. The whimper that slipped past his lips as you palmed his cock was utterly shameless. “You’ve got a filthy fucking mouth, Y/N.”

“Yeah? Shut me up, then.”

His head lolled back against the headboard as you released his cock from his boxers, stroking purposefully and savoring the filthy moans that echoed against the walls. Those pretty eyes of his were nearly black with lust as he looked down at you, biting his lip while your tongue swirled over the head of his cock. Licking up his precum, you smirked before fully wrapping your lips around him.

Theo tugged at your hair and bucked against your mouth as you sucked, licked, and pumped every inch of his thick, hard cock. You knew you were good, but the desperation in Theo’s voice all but confirmed it.

“Dio mio, right there. Fuck, you’re perfect. Your throat was made to be fucked. You can take it, bella. Choke on my cock, just like that.”

You gagged as he hit the back of your throat. Sucking dick had never been your favorite, but sucking Theo’s dick was something else. He looked so pretty with his waves plastered to his forehead, rosy cheeks flushed as he fucked your face with a dominance that had you growing wetter by the second. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you choked on his cock, but it was worth every second to hear Theo moan your name.

“Fuck, Y/N,” hissed Theo after a particularly rough thrust. You could tell he was close by the way his body seized underneath you, but you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted more and so did he. “So fucking close, but I don’t want to come yet. I need…Fuck, I need more.”

You released him with a pop, but kept stroking him with your right hand. “Use your words, pretty boy.”

“I want to feel you,” Theo whined. “I need to feel your pussy clenching around my cock, principessa. I need you so fucking bad. I’d get on my knees to be inside of you. Please.”

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” you said as you kissed his temple. “Who am I to refuse?”

Theo watched as you shuffled above him, barely breathing as you slipped out of your clothes. When you threw your shirt off, Theo cursed to find you completely bare before him. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples before wrapping his lips around them. You could tell he was eager to please and that alone was a huge fucking turn on. It was rare to find a man who cared about pleasure beyond his own, which is why you usually preferred women. Theodore Nott seemed to be the exception.

With rapt attention, Theo helped you lower down onto his length. He kept his eyes on you as you adjusted, gasping when your walls stretched to accommodate his size.

“You know, I thought the rumors about you were exaggerated,” you groaned as you sank lower. “But I’ve never been so glad to be wrong.”

Theo smirked as he nibbled at your earlobe. “What kind of rumors, dolcezza?”

“That you had a huge dick,” you responded, sounding slightly winded once Theo was finally fully sheathed inside of you. “And that you fuck like a—“ You moaned when Theo shifted his hips to rut into you. He was so big that the minuscule movement felt like you were being split apart.

“That I fuck like what, bella?”

Never one to be outdone, you tugged at his hair and grinded against him. “That you fuck like an absolute demon.”

“Yeah?” He drawled, sliding in and out of you with a cocky smirk. “Well, you’re no angel either, Y/N.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Theo.”

The sight of you bouncing on his cock and riding the fuck out of him was almost too much. Theo was mesmerized as you used him to get off, head thrown back as you placed your hands on either side of his legs before bending in an angle that he wasn’t even sure was possible for a human to contort to.

Damn, he should’ve fucked a cheerleader sooner. He should’ve fucked you sooner.

“I guess you’re not the only one who listened to the rumors. They said you were flexible, but goddamn, this is something else. You’re something else, Y/N.”

“Oh fuck, Theo,” you keened as you gripped the sheets. “You’re so big. It feels so fucking good, baby.”

“I like the way you moan my name,” he said. “Gods, I could’ve had this all along. Why was I even wasting my time with Hannah? Sei una fottuta dea.”

“I have no idea what you just said,'' you panted, picking up the pace. Your legs ached from the effort, but it felt too good to stop. “But I’m soaked now.”

“I said,” Theo grunted as he fucked up into you and tugged your hair back. “You’re a fucking goddess, Y/N.”

When he rubbed circles on your clit, you absolutely lost it. The room spiraled around you as you came hard, creaming Theo from tip to base. He pulled out suddenly, making you whine at the loss of contact until he replaced his cock with his mouth. Theo flattened his tongue, licking up along your soaked folds. His nose brushed against your already sensitive clit and you cried out as he lapped you up like a man starved.

“Can’t take anymore,” you whined, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you pushed against Theo’s broad shoulders. “It’s too much. I’m so sensitive.”

Theo gripped your ankles and spread your legs wider. “Where’s that Gryffindor bravery, bella?” He chuckled, tracing circles on the inside of your thighs. His mouth glistened with your cum and rose petals stuck to his skin as he looked up at you. “Surely you can take more. We barely just started. I want you drenched in tears. Shaking, crying, and moaning my name. Right now, you’re not even close.”

He sucked on your clit and you swore to Godric your eyes rolled back so hard that you saw heaven. Theo was determined to drive you to the brink of insanity. “I know you want it, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

“Oh gods,” you cried out as he filled you with two fingers. It wasn’t as much of a stretch as his cock, but the way he curled them inside of you, touching that sensitive spongy spot within your walls made you whimper all the same. “Fuck, yes, gods. I want it. I want you, Theo.”

A satisfied smile graced his handsome face before Theo flipped you over, pressing you headfirst into the pillows as he feasted on your pussy from behind. There wasn’t a single thought in your head as he unraveled you with his tongue and fingers. It was a deadly combination that had you on the edge quicker than you thought possible.

“Turn around, principessa,” Theo cooed. “Come ride my face.”

For Godric’s fucking sake. The man was absolutely insatiable. You liked to think that you had excellent stamina. Most of the time your partners struggled to keep up with your pace, but Theo was seriously challenging that. You didn’t know if you could come three times in a row without passing out, but tonight was as good as any to find out.

Theo rewarded you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss before positioning your thighs on either side of his head. You held onto the headboard above him. Part of it was for balance, but mostly to keep yourself from collapsing all together. You felt so overstimulated that the line between pleasure and pain was blurring by the minute, but still, neither one of you had any plans of stopping.

At this point, you actually couldn’t give less of a fuck about revenge. Hannah had long become a thing of the past. It seemed ironic that you and your ex-girlfriend were in this exact position mere hours ago yet you couldn’t even recall anything past the Slytherin fucking you with his tongue.

“Theo, oh my fucking gods,” you cried out as you grinded against his mouth. “Right there. Yes, that’s it. So good.” Theo squeezed your thighs in response, which elicited a hoarse laugh out of you. “You like when I praise you, pretty boy?”

Theo hummed against your clit and squeezed your ass in confirmation. “You’re so pretty when you’re eating my pussy,” you cooed, brushing his wavy locks back. “But you’re even prettier when you’re fucking me.”

That seemed to be all the encouragement Theo needed. Before you knew it, your back was against the mattress as he hiked your legs over your shoulder. Theo slipped in easily, thanks to the juices coating both his tongue and cock now that he was filling you up again.

“How’s the view now, principessa?” Theo asked with a cocky smirk.

You bit your lip as he pounded into you, holding your gaze with every sharp thrust. His tanned skin glistened with sweat and his muscles flexed while he buried himself inside of you again and again, watching you take all of him with rapt attention. His balls slapped against your ass every time his hips snapped to yours, drilling so deep that you struggled for words.

“The best in the castle,” you quipped back, putting on a serene smile as Theo grunted and fucked any and every coherent thought right out of you.

Neither one of you noticed the door opening nor the sound of the broom hitting the floor. You were too busy staring into Theo’s pretty eyes to care.

He turned your head towards the door, but didn’t stop fucking you as Hannah watched with her mouth hung wide open. Theo made sure that your ex-girlfriend had a clear view of the money shot as he claimed you with his mouth, moaning your name against your lips as he came with a loud cry. He filled you to the brim and you could feel him leaking out of you and onto the sheets as your eyes rolled back.

Theo collapsed on top of you, sweaty and sinful. As you lay boneless and blissed out of your mind, you couldn’t quite believe that you’d just fucked your ex-girlfriend’s ex boyfriend. In her own bed, nonetheless. If that wasn’t poetic justice, you didn’t know what was. Merlin, you hadn’t gotten shagged like that in—well, ever. The Slytherin really knew how to slither in. You lifted your head to find Theo already looking at you. When you made eye contact, the two of you burst into laughter.

Your ex-girlfriend, on the other hand, was not as amused. “What the fuck!” Hannah screamed.

Her shrill voice brought you out of the post haze aftermath of your earth shattering orgasm. Completely unbothered, you stretched lazily and waved your fingers at Hannah. Theo smirked as he tugged his sweatpants back on, but opted to remain shirtless as he pulled his oversized shirt over your head like a proper gentleman. You were grateful, since you had absolutely no desire to walk around in your ex-girlfriend’s clothes. Plus, it didn’t hurt that Theo looked absolutely delicious from the afterglow.

You bit your lip, already thinking of all the ways you’d like to have him. Again and again. As often as possible.

With a little smile, you met Theo’s gaze. It was clear that neither of you had any intention of calling it an early night. You had a feeling that you had a lot of sleepless nights ahead of you. Theo looked like he wanted to tear you apart and you were more than willing to let him. “My dorm?”

“Whatever you say, dolcezza,” Theo said as he slipped his fingers through yours. “You could lead me off the astronomy tower and I’d follow.”

Theo didn’t bother looking at Hannah as the two of you passed her. You, on the other hand, couldn’t pass up the chance to get the last word in.

“By the way, we’re breaking up with you. Have fun cleaning up the mess.”

Theo chuckled darkly as he tugged you out into the hallway, smacking your arse as the two of you raced back to your dorm. Behind you, your long forgotten ex-girlfriend gaped as she watched her ex-girlfriend and ex-boyfriend walk away hand in hand.

#yes i know this is unhinged but i dreamt it so now you all have to deal #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theo nott smut #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine

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joonie-beanie · 4 months ago

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Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh.

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?”

Now that piques their interest.

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her.

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend.

4 days, to be exact.

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job.

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file.

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck.

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning.

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen.

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet.

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again.

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest.

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers.

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak.

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them.

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.”

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel.

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace.

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself.

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace.

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum.

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his.

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty.

You’re getting close.

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it.

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words.

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you.

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving.

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit.

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again.

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine.

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago.

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo.

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck.

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot.

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last.

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath.

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him.

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep!

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #bean fic #genshin fanfic

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haikyuupaladin · 1 year ago

Text

TLDR; don’t give tumblr money until they start making visible improvements towards accessibility

I’ve seen a few posts around about something people are calling crab day where you’re supposed to gift the crab button to your mutuals to support Tumblr financially. Please don’t participate in this unless Tumblr starts making noticeable improvements towards accessibility between now and then. It’s been 5 months of me trying to get the bare minimum of accessibility for photosensitive users or even just find out who I can talk to to get anywhere, and Tumblr is refusing to make any changes.

@photomatt has doubled down on the suggestion that you should just pay for ad-free or install an ad-blocker instead of listening to any of the suggestions photosensitive users have repeatedly made. Please do not give money to Tumblr until they show a commitment to accessibility because they will continue to ignore our requests if it doesn’t impact them financially.

Some of the requests we’ve made are:

1. Allow us to disable autoplay on browser as well as the app. This is an accessibility feature, not a data-saving feature, and should be treated as such.

2. Include ads in disabling of autoplay, along with other formats that currently get around the autoplay feature. Currently even if you have autoplay disabled you can still end up with flashing lights in your face every few posts from ads.

3. Improve the reporting process for strobing ads. The quick reporting process doesn’t provide good options to ensure the person reviewing the report realizes that it’s being reported for flashing lights so you have to hope they agree it’s either malicious or offensive and don’t just brush you off as abusing the report function. The more complicated reporting process involves getting a screenshot and the link that the ad brings you to, which requires lingering on the ad, which if you’re trying to report the ad for your safety, is dangerous. You can also still get the same ad 10 times a row after reporting it until it’s been reviewed. Which again, presents a danger to users.

4. Add a community label for flashing lights. Flashing lights are commonly untagged or mistagged, even sometimes maliciously. It would be extremely helpful to the photosensitive community to be able to add a warning to a post that doesn’t have one.

I’ve talked a lot about the photosensitive community in this post because that’s what I have personal experience with and what @photomatt has explicitly come out and just said to buy ad-free about, but there are definitely other accessibility issues that need to be addressed as well (like the alt text function needing improvements to make it accessible to users who need it and don’t use screenreaders, or the fact that a lot of tumblr official stuff still doesn’t seem to use the alt text feature themselves). Please feel free to add on accessibility issues I’ve missed in the reblogs.

#crab day #epilepsy #actually epileptic #disability #photosensitivity #accessibility #tumblr safety #disability pride month

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luveline · 4 months ago

Note

More spencer x hotch's sister? I love her relationship with hotch so much btw! Maybe spencer learns some of what she went through in her past?

“What did you get Haley for your six months?” you ask.

Aaron shakes his basket of fries. You can smell them from your side of the table, salt and grease from the fryer. He doesn’t need to see you looking, maybe he doesn’t care that you want one or not, he tips half of the basket onto your plate and shrugs. “It was a long time ago, I’m not sure I remember. For our first year together I gave her a promise ring, I think.”

“I don’t think I can get him a promise ring…” You swirl your drink with your straw. Fizzy bubbles rush to the surface. “A ring might be nice, though. Can he wear jewellery in the field?”

“One nondescript ring would be fine.”

“Maybe a necklace.” You stab a few of his given fries on your fork and smile. “I’m very stressed, but he’s been so kind the whole time. He never makes me worry about anything.”

“Spencer is kind.” Aaron glances to the side as a couple sits in the booth opposite. “Admittedly, I was worried. But you’re happy, so I’m happy.”

“Six months is a long time for no fights.”

“Honey, some people don’t fight.”

You toy with a stray piece of lettuce. “I’m really glad that we don’t, but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“It won’t drop. You think I’d let you date Spencer if I suspected he was secretly evil?”

“There are a few things wrong with that question…” You wipe your mouth with a napkin. “Okay, it won’t drop. Can we get, um, dessert? Rocky road sundaes?” They’re Aaron’s favourite, so they’re yours, too.

Despite his assurances, you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. You think about your conversation with Aaron for the days leading up to your six month anniversary with Spencer, which he aptly names your ‘half anniversary’. He doesn’t plan any surprises —he sends you a PDF with different options for everything. Five different restaurants with different options for courses, moods, and settings. There are notes for each place and why you might like them, and there are activities for each one afterwards based on the location. It’s so thoughtful it makes you feel sick. The other shoe looms, and looms.

You choose a smaller restaurant just outside of the busy city, with a beautiful outdoor eating area on a stone veranda. It’s lively but not crowded, secluded but not completely private.

Spencer tucks your seat in, and he kisses your cheek before he takes his own. When he does, he looks across the table at you, and says, “Wow, you’re so pretty.”

“You think so?”

“You’re beautiful.” He gives you one of his not so shy, almost cheesy smiles, like he wants to laugh. “Do you want your gift now or later?”

“Is it rude to say I want it now?”

“No, it’s not rude. I’ll feel better once I know you like it.”

He presents you with a box wrapped in dark blue crepe paper and rounded silver star stickers. There’s twine wrapped around it and bowed, too beautiful to want to open. You look between him and the present in awe. “This is real pretty,” you say softly.

“It’s nicer inside,” he says.

You unravel the twin carefully, and you take off the paper to reveal a large, flat box. You put the paper in your jacket pocket, folded primly to keep. Spencer waits patiently.

You press your thumbnail into the box’s seam and push.

It’s four pieces of jewellery. What catches your eye first is the sapphires, blue crystal with deep dark hearts pressed into the pendant of a necklace, the heart of a bracelet, and the main bodies of their matching earrings. All simple, elegant pieces, and compiled, their impressiveness is amplified. Your breath catches. You don’t need to be an expert in jewellery to immediately assign a ballpark price tag, and it’s a lot. It’s sort of startling.

But the price doesn’t matter half as much as the sentiment.

“Do you remember them?” he asks softly.

Fourth date. Hand in hand, you and Spencer walked through a shopping centre with iced drinks and churros, and you’d paused for a few seconds to ogle the jewellery display. You’d pointed straight at the sapphire bracelet and said, “That’s gorgeous. I think if I save, I can get it for Christmas.”

“I know it’s not Christmas,” Spencer says, “I’m sorry, I cheated. But I hope you like them.”

“Spencer, I love them, I love them,” —you reach your hand across the table— “I love you. Thank you.”

He smiles at you. “Yeah, I love you, too.”

You can’t stop yourself from getting up to hug him. He bends under your weight and holds your arms, doesn’t wince when you press the entirety of your face to his hair and breathe. “Thank you,” you whisper, kissing his forehead twice, “thank you, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He takes your face into his hand before you can leave. “You like them?” he asks.

“I love them.”

His smile is everything. “I really did cheat, I wrote it down when we got home and you know I can’t forget the things I read,” he murmurs, pulling you in for a kiss.

Six months later and your heart still skips a beat. Doesn’t matter that he has an eidetic memory, what’s important is that he wrote it down.

You take another hug, to his delight, and return to your seat. Your presents wait in a bag under the table. Two books, one jewellery box. He goes for the smaller box first.

“It’s a ring,” you say, too nervous to let him discover it by himself. “I know you don’t often wear them, but I thought maybe it’s because it’s not something you’d get for yourself, and I think it would look good on you.”

He opens the box with a smile. So pretty, and exuberantly bright. “Oh, wow.”

“I don’t know if brands mean anything to you, but it’s Vivienne–”

“It’s beautiful,” he interrupts, “I love it. What finger do I wear it on?”

“Most wear it on their marriage finger, I think, but you obviously don’t have to do that.”

He slips it onto his ring finger, turns his hand one way and another, and there’s this joy that echoes all the way across the table from his very core. “Thank you. I love it, and now every time I look down I'll remember why you gave it to me.”

You spend a lot of time apart, what with both of you working. “I thought that, too.”

He takes the books next. His laugh is soft. “I’m not surprised.”

“They’re… they’re my personal copies.”

He startles at that. “They are?”

“Yeah. Uh,” —you point at the first— “that’s my favourite, and I think it could be your favourite too.”

“And this one?” he asks gently, slipping the first underneath the second.

“Aaron gave that one to me. I know what you’re thinking, okay, that I’m giving something to you I should really keep. Maybe it makes you uncomfortable, I don’t know, but I love you.” You lick your lips. “It’s nice to fall in love. And you’ve made it so easy.”

He stares at you, lips parted.

You panic. “It was hard, growing up, and I know everyone struggles but it was hard. If it weren’t for my brother… I feel like it sticks to me and you’ve never made me feel that way. You love me for me. I was convinced nobody would ever do that.”

“I know it was hard,” he says.

“Really hard, sometimes, but you aren’t. I’m never scared of you.”

He reaches across the table to touch your hand. “You aren’t supposed to be scared of anyone, angel.”

Warmth blossoms under his touch. You shake off the fog. “It’s not just about all of that, I swear, I really do think you’ll like them. But if I got it all wrong just lie to me, okay?”

“You didn’t get anything wrong, shut up,” he says. Spencer stands, his turn to hug you, but he goes about it differently. He tips your head back and he kisses you, and his nose is a pressed line in your cheek as he squeezes you to him. “I’d be surprised if anybody who’s ever met you didn’t love you. Okay? Thank you for trusting me with it.”

It, and not them, not the books.

He peels away. You beam at one another.

“Should we eat?” you ask, feeling pleased and shy at once.

He kisses you again, one quick peck. “Yes, we can eat.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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awrkive · 3 months ago

Text

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 3 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.7k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments, litol bit of #domesticity, FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, angst if you squint??????????, the x file spoiler lol, suits cameo (me inserting my niche interests into conversations), the biggest warning of this part is: naked jungkook 💀

NOTES sorry for being almost 3 hours late efhkjdhfd i overestimated my abilities a bit mb mb anyway, AGAIN, i want to thank you guys for the overwhelming support! i want to take this opportunity to announce that i'll be taking a break from nb for around 2 weeks to work on my new jungkook one-shot fic that i will be posting for his birthday ❤️ if you are interested, i have posted the teaser on my tumblr page. LASTLY pls let me know your thoughts!! i LOVE LOOOVEEE reading every single one of your replies/reblogs/asks. i hope you enjoy this one and have a good weekend ahead!!!!!!

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN (REPLY IN THE COMMENT SECTION. PLS DO NOT SEND AN ASK ABOUT IT)

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You always wonder how a company this big seems to not have any budget lent for a copier that actually works – something that one doesn’t need to violently slap just for it to function perfectly.

You’ve been a victim not just once but five times to its inefficiency, the recent mishap being a month ago when the ink blots jumped right over the cuff of your shirt.

With the way that you’ve been harassing the copier at the very moment, you’ll say it’s about to do you wrong for the sixth time and you absolutely can’t let it happen anymore – not when you’re currently wearing a white polo shirt that stupidly costs a little too much more than anything in your wardrobe (you decided to spend a little more than usual last New Year’s).

So, with a last unnecessary kick to the bottom of the machine (out of pure spite) you left the copier room of your floor and think, fuck it – go to the IT department and ask Taemu to back you up from his supervisor so you can use their copier instead – which is something you’re not so sure of.

It’s embarrassing to go there just to ask him for help. Not with your history. But admittedly not that much of a history. After all, he seems to be cool with you and everything seems to be pretty chill. You can just go there; ask a little favor from a friend, and then hurry down to your floor.

There are some other options, though. Like, you can always ask the intern to do it for you. But the thing is, you kind of feel bad for those three. Your co-workers are doing a lot already; asking to fetch them things all around the building, buy them snacks, stuff like that. There’s another one but she’s way too quiet and didn’t really take shit from any of her seniors… which is kind of intimidating – but she's someone you wish you were when you were also an intern. You personally don’t want to help cultivate a somewhat toxic journey for the other three because you also started the same way as them. Beyond that, it would also be too rude to ask favors from Taemu indirectly.

You’re ultimately left with little and only one choice.

The elevator dings and the doors open after it does so.

One of the people in it is a woman you’ve never met around before. Long, black hair; tailored suit, slender figure, and a posture that screams she’s never hunched her back in her entire life.

Other people that entered at the same time as you start to bow their heads down slightly and greet a polite, “Good afternoon.”

You mirror their gesture as well.

As you step inside and settle on a spot, you wonder who she is.

An executive, maybe? She looks very put-together, and there’s authority that hangs over her frame… but exceptionally young in the physical aspect. Jungkook is also young, though – and he’s an executive, so that’s entirely possible. Additionally, others seem to know her. Or they're just pretending to know her like you did. Did you miss a ceremony? A meeting? Or did you gloss over some HR email again? You’ll have to check later to find out if that’s the case.

Anyway, your curiosity doesn’t last long when the elevator doors open once again, indicating the IT department floor.

You already texted Taemu awhile ago that you were on your way so he should meet you on-time.

As you walk down the hallway with your phone in your hand, your attention is caught by a familiar voice.

“Hey,”

You look up from your phone and see Taemu waving not too far away, heading towards your direction. It doesn’t take him long to get near you. When he does, you give him a smile.

“Taemu, hi.” You say as a small greeting. Taemu lifts his hand and you thought he was going for a high-five, so you lift your hand as well to meet the gesture. But then he leans in closer, one arm about to enclose your waist, and that’s when you realize he was actually gearing up for a hug.

Taemu seems to register that you weren’t exactly going for the same thing, so he steps back. He seems shy when you look at him in confusion.

“Oh, okay, sorry,” He offers his hand again, but just when you’re already thinking about hugging him because that was what he originally meant to do, he speaks just as you lean in closer to hug him. “I thought we were high-five-ing?”

Embarrassed, your hands retreat to yourself.

“I thought... you wanted to hug?” You chuckle.

“Okay, let’s just—” Taemu steps closer again and this time, it’s more than clear to you what he wants to do.

You reciprocate the hug he gives.

“This is so stupid.” You say, chuckling against his neck. The contact is quick as you two simultaneously break apart.

Taemu laughs at your remark, nodding his head. Then he gestures ahead, pointing to the direction of the copy room.

“Your copier not working again?” He asks as you walk down the hallway together.

You heave a sigh. “Yeah, they really need to change that one. Anyway, have you told Mr. Lee?” You ask, referring to his supervisor.

Teamu nods his head, opening the door to the copy room for you.

“Yeah, it’s fine with him. Just sign the logbook and stuff.”

“Thanks, Taemu.” You say, quickly getting to work, feeling slightly delighted at how their machine smoothly does its job and not like the one at all in your department. “Hey, I’m really sorry for bothering you with this.” You lament as you wait for the paper to slide out.

Taemu waves his hand, shaking his head at you. “It’s fine.”

You purse your lips into a thin line, giving him a somewhat apprehensive smile. The paper comes out and you get your thing. After a quick scan to see if the copier got everything right, you look back at Taemu to say, “Thanks again, Taemu. I really appreciate this.”

“No worries. Anytime.”

When you announce that you’re done, Taemu calls your name.

“Hm?” You hum, looking at him and wait for his next words.

He looks coy when he rubs a hand on the back of his head.

“Can I take you out for lunch?” He says, and you still in your position. Taemu seems like he surprised himself with his own words. You open your mouth to speak but then he beats you to it quickly, “It’s not a date. I phrased that as a date – but it’s not – ah, this is all coming out wrong,” Taemu chuckles, interrupting himself. With his hands in his slacks' pockets, he leans to a random table inside the room and looks at you with a more confident stance this time, as if he just gave himself a quick internal pep talk after jumbling his words. “What I meant to say is, if we can go out for lunch together today?”

You chuckle. You were just about to say yes. Contrary to his assumption, you didn’t really take his first question as an invitation for a date. Besides, he helped you with the copier today.

Nodding your head, you offer him a grin as you say, “Yeah. I’ll go to lunch with you.”

Taemu walks you to the elevator even though you said he doesn’t need to. He's insistent but you let it, anyway.

Taemu puts his hands on both sides of the door before it closes. The ride is pretty much empty except for yourself.

“When are you off?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment. “Is 12:15 okay?”

Taemu nods. “Sure. See you at 12:15?”

“Yeah. Later.”

The elevator closes and you laugh to yourself when you catch Taemu awkwardly waving his hand at you goodbye.

“No, you didn’t, I kicked your ass at mini golf!” You say, laughing as Taemu looks at you with squinted eyes, obviously saying that was absolutely not what happened on your date a few months ago.

“Uh, you disregarded all the rules.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. Rules do not matter, though. It’s just some stick and a ball and… fake grass.”

Taemu laughs, surrendering his hands to the air, nodding when he says, “Fair, fair.”

You’re currently at a restaurant not too far away from your company building. It took Taemu and you about five minutes to get here; just a quick waiting time to cross the pedestrian lane to get from one street to the other.

Looking around, you can actually see some people inside wearing your company lace. The restaurant’s sort of like a famous spot around the company, though, so it doesn't necessarily surprise you. You’ve also had a few company dinners here some time ago.

Safe to say, lunch with Taemu is going… okay so far.

No – actually, it’s way better than you thought it would be.

You could have never, ever predicted that you’ll be out with him alone again after… you know, ghosting him. Your whole assessment of his character has also changed a bit after the whole fiasco.

See, some guys start feeling entitled over your permission and consent when you entertain them even just for a bit. When you go on dates and you break it to them that it’s just not working out between you two, they start to act weird. Like you’ve hurt them. Or that you lead them on – even though it’s absolutely not the case.

But Taemu’s proving himself to be different. You honestly expected him to act like that guy because he seems the type after your first date. But he surprises you by acting the total, complete opposite.

He’s so… nice. So casual. Like nothing happened. You feel bad because right now, you've officially confirmed to yourself that you totally misjudged him.

You can’t believe you’ll say this, but Taemu is not an asshole. Like at all.

Even now, you’re recalling what happened to your date and laughing about some of the memories of it, and it feels so long ago you’re starting to remember it differently.

“Anyway, this milkshake’s really good,” you say, taking your glass and looking at it curiously.

“Yeah? I told you,” Taemu grins, eating from his own plate.

“You always come here?” You ask out of curiosity since he seems to be familiar with the menu.

“Sort of? I mean, I try to take in the city as much as I can.” You nod, recalling what he told you before. He came from Daegu, and it’s his first time in Seoul.

Before you can say anything to that, the waiter comes to your table and gives you your bill.

Taemu and you simultaneously take out your wallets. When he sees you do it, though, he’s quick to shake his head, gesturing for you to not bother.

“No, no, it’s fine. I got it.”

“I got it, too,” You say, smiling at him, already picking out your card, ready to put it inside the check presenter.

“__,” Taemu says your name while chuckling. “I swear, it’s fine. I was the one who invited you for lunch.”

“Taemu,” You call him, using the same tone he used. Taemu grins at that. “I think we should split the bill.”

It’s only fair, you think. You ate pretty much the same thing.

You hold what felt like a minute staring competition until Taemu gives in and lets you stack your card on top of his in the booklet.

You’re about to resume eating – pick up on the conversation you left a few minutes ago – when your phone dings on the table, a message popping out on the notification center.

When you read the contact name, your eyes widen but you relax your face real quick lest Taemu asks questions.

“Sorry,” you say, pointing to your phone. Taemu nods, understanding. You pick the device in your hands, turn to your other side to not be rude, and read the text from Jungkook.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:47pm]: hey I bought you lunch Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:48pm]: i was gonnna ask you to go with me earlier but I got busy with some papers

Shoot.

You’ve done a pretty good job of not thinking about Jungkook at all for the entirety of the day. You woke up so early this morning that you waited for twenty whole minutes for your bus just so you can avoid seeing Jungkook because everytime his name pops up in your thoughts, you remember what you did the night before and it just messes with your head so much.

Listen, you aren’t embarrassed about trying to get yourself off. It’s just masturbation. It’s a carnal need and it’s totally normal. What you are not proud of is the way you thought about him – out of all people – and how it actually made you feel… a little more motivated to get yourself there.

But it’s a slip-up. A big mistake.

How are you supposed to look him in the eyes after that and act like you didn’t do what you did? Granted, you did stop before it escalated. But still, the point is that you thought about him while you were pleasuring yourself. Even if it was for a tiny bit second, it still counts!

Stupid fucking ovulation, you think to yourself with bitterness. You’re a much better person without it, you swear. You don’t go around thinking about men when you try to get yourself off, not at all! Personally, your head is mostly blank when you go through it.

But Jungkook left two texts. And he’s probably seen the read tag on his end already.

You [12:49pm]: I just got lunch ): thank you for buying me one tho that’s really nice ofu

You turn your phone off after sending your reply, placing it on the empty space of your table. When you look at Taemu, he’s eyeing something behind you. With furrowed brows, the question about what he’s looking at is on the tip of your tongue when he suddenly says,

“Isn’t that Mr. Jeon?”

“W-what?” You stammer, not sure if you heard him right.

The knots on Taemu’s forehead fades, and then he nods to himself. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Jeon. He’s going this way.”

“Wha—”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon.” Taemu stands up from his seat and does a slight bow for greeting.

Without thinking about it, you mirror Taemu’s action, bowing your head longer than necessary.

“Good afternoon, M-mr. Jeon,”

It’s no use to avoid his gaze, though.

When you look at Jungkook, he seems pretty much just as surprised to see you. You look away, but your eyes fall to his hand, and you see that it carries a take-out paper bag from the restaurant. You think about his text.

“Good afternoon.” Jungkook says with an easy-going smile. He goes from surprised to casual real quick and glosses over you as if he doesn’t know you.

You don’t really know how that makes you feel.

“I was just going, have fun with your lunch.” He says and politely bids his goodbye, going straight to the direction of the restaurant’s door.

“He’s really cool, you know?” Taemu brings up when you both sit down again.

“I— huh?”

“You must have heard about the new project they’re starting at the end of this month, right?” He asks curiously.

You sit there stunned. Stunned from earlier’s interaction with Jungkook but also because you don’t really know what the hell Taemu’s talking about.

“No… I didn’t get any memo…?” You say instead, trying not to act way too oblivious lest he thinks you’re lazy or something. Not that it matters! You’re not trying to impress him or anything.

Taemu nods. “Well, you’ll probably know about it soon.”

But your head's too far gone now, still stuck on what happened a minute ago.

You look over at your phone while Taemu speaks, hoping for it to light up with a new notification from the messaging app.

A few minutes passed by and it doesn’t, even when you leave the restaurant.

You don’t really know why you’re here.

It’s been three days since that night in Jungkook’s place where you tried to bake in his kitchen, so it’s also been three days since you started practicing during the nights after work to perfect your cookies. Tonight, it just so happens that the cookies finally taste edible and honestly, it’s more than okay.

So, maybe that’s why you find yourself in front of Jungkook’s door with a plastic container in your hands, decently-baked cookies prettily arranged inside.

Jungkook was with you when you made those pathetic excuses for cookies, so you thought it’s only fair for him to try these ones and tell you what he thinks. Brag a little. Maybe have a little chitchat if he’s free or whatever.

It’s also… sort of like a peace offering for something he doesn’t need to know about. You can’t tell him you’re sorry for thinking about him when you did the deed because that’s just plain weird.

Speaking of weird, though, the interaction from yesterday left you feeling a little empty. There’s this gnawing feeling inside of you that something went wrong – but you can’t exactly point out why. Jungkook also hasn’t texted you after that – which isn’t out of the ordinary. You don’t text everyday and you don’t meet every single day, either – for the record. You’re both busy people. You can only imagine Jungkook’s schedule.

Anyway, if there’s anything that you learned about your friendship with Jungkook, it’s that you don’t need to lie to him. You just have to knock on his door and he’ll unintentionally clear your doubts by being the voice of reason because he’s nice like that.

You do hope though that tonight clears any weird air between you. Maybe you’ll find out later on that there’s nothing weird going on at all and you’re just overthinking stuff as usual.

You’re about to ring the doorbell twice when the door finally opens, showing you Jungkook still wearing his polo shirt. He looks like he’s just gotten home from work, red tie undone around his neckline and a few buttons popped open.

“Hi.” You smile.

“Hey,” Jungkook looks at you, obviously wondering what brought you to his door.

“I wanted to give you this,” you hand him the plastic container which he takes with a confused look. “Those are cookies. I baked them. I didn’t give you anything when I baked two nights ago because they were bad.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods, looking down at the plastic. He smiles, then leans on his doorway. “So it’s good now?”

You gesture a so-so with your hand. “Don’t set your expectations too high. It’s not exactly Poilâne. But it tastes like matcha cookies, I swear.” When Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, you decide to add, “You also won’t get food poisoning, if you’re worried about that.”

Jungkook gives you an amused look. “I wasn’t… worried about that.”

“It’s a simple disclaimer. Just in case, you know, you suddenly feel weird in the stomach…” Jungkook arches his brow while you trail off. You roll your eyes lightheartedly. “I’m kidding.”

He lets out a chuckle and then stands upright. “Thank you for this.”

“No worries,” you say. You shift your weight from one foot to another. “Uh, do you wanna grab dinner? Right now?”

Jungkook looks at you apologetically.

“I really wish we could, but I have to finish something tonight. Work stuff.”

“Oh,” You nod immediately. “Okay. Uhm, good luck with that.”

He smiles at you. Lifting the container up, he arches his brows, saying, “Thank you, again. It looks good.”

“Yeah, I hope you like it,” You say. Realizing that there’s nothing more left to say, you turn on your heel ready to go. But before that, you look back at him one last time. “Bye.”

Jungkook grins.

“I’ll text you what I think about them.” He says, pointing to the cookies.

“Okay, Anton Ego.”

You both laugh at that, and you enter your apartment with a small smile on your face.

You don’t want to admit it even to yourself, but you might have taken Jungkook’s words about reviewing your baked goods too seriously that you waited for it last night longer than necessary. Even when the night ended and you go to work the next day, which is today, none of his texts come, and you don’t think anything’s coming anytime soon.

You try not to think about it too much because he did say he’s busy with work. You’re sure that’s the case, so you feel slightly bad for him.

Right now, you’re looking for Ms. Seo to get her signature on a document. So you head to the elevator, rushing a bit to get inside the one that’s about to close. It’s a little urgent, so you cannot waste any more time.

As soon as you enter though, you notice who’s in it.

It’s Jungkook and the woman you saw in the elevator two days ago.

You’re starting to think you need to start using the stairs from now on because your elevator trips are getting too ridiculous.

It feels like you’re running on auto-pilot when you greet them both, walking to the side to make space for the other people entering.

You wish you went beside the woman instead and not Jungkook’s side because you then have to try real hard not to look at him.

It proves to be an uneasy task when more people squeeze in as the elevator takes a few stops in between floors. You had to taut all the muscles in your body just to not get into any contact with Jungkook, but even with all the effort, it goes unsuccessful, as you brush his arm when you step back to move a little.

Jungkook looks at you the same time you do.

“I’m sorry.” You utter, low enough to not cause any unnecessary attention.

A few do turn to stare, anyway. And you can’t help but notice the way the woman’s hand moves towards Jungkook’s to hold it as she takes a look at you.

Jungkook, meanwhile, gives you that same professional smile he seems to have reserved for every employee that greets him around the building, warm voice saying, “It’s okay.”

You’re thankful that the next floor is where your stop is.

As you go back to your cubicle, you wonder who the woman is. Again.

There's something about her that feels familiar. She looks familiar. Like you’ve seen her before. You can’t just figure out where exactly.

“__,” Sol calls beside you.

“Huh?”

“You’re not having lunch?” She asks.

“Oh…” Right. It’s currently your break time. “Are you guys going out?” You say, looking at Joonhwi who’s two cubicles away from you.

Sol shakes her head, taking her coat from the back of her chair. “No, just at the cafeteria.”

You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll follow in a few minutes, just need to look over some stuff here,” You point to your computer.

“Okay. Just text me.”

You give Sol a smile and watch as she and Joonhwi head out of the office.

Your gaze falls to the time on your computer.

12:10pm.

Is Jungkook possibly having lunch right now? You remember him buying you one two days ago and feel a little sense of regret about not taking it even though it isn’t your fault and he should’ve told you first to give you a little heads-up.

You never really talked about it. You never really talked for the past three days.

But then again, he seems to be busy.

With a little hope in your heart, though, you pick up your phone and decide to send him a text.

You [12:12pm]: hey do u want to go out for lunch?

Or should you just buy him one like he did for you? It’s not like you’re trying to up him in a kindness competition. It can just be a small, thoughtful gesture from a friend to a friend.

You receive a reply a few seconds after.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: hey __ I’d love to

Your lips curl down when you read the next one that comes in a second.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: but I have a work meeting in 5mins

Oh. Okay. That tracks.

You [12:14pm]: okii!! That’s totally cool! good luck with work 😊

You stand up from your chair and take out your wallet from your bag, going out of your office and sending a quick text to Sol that you’re coming to the cafeteria.

When you get there, your peripheral vision catches a familiar figure.

You look back, trying to see if it’s someone you know.

Turns out it is. Because it’s Jungkook.

You’ve seen him in the elevator this morning and he wore a grey pair of suit. You’d also recognize his stature anywhere, but just like how it was inside the elevator, he’s with the woman again; long hair down like it was yesterday, this time adorning a suit dress that hugs her figure really well, her stilettos making her legs look longer but somehow Jungkook still stands a little taller.

For the very brief moment that you laid your eyes on them, you saw how Jungkook had his hand placed on the low of her back, how she laughed at something he said, and how they looked good together from your point of view. It seemed like they were on their way somewhere.

You realize that was what Jungkook meant when he said he’s busy.

They say a silver lining comes in every worst situation possible, and you’re more of an optimist rather than a pessimist so usually, you believe in the concept of silver linings even though right now – it looks like it’s going to be winning the jackpot in the lottery or… free education for everybody across the world.

“The contractor estimates it would be a week-long repair.”

“One week?” Is your immediate response, disbelief coloring your tone. “I’m sorry—” You try to fix your tone, salvaging yourself from being seen as outright rude in front of your building manager. “You mean seven whole days?”

The building manager, Mr. Han, nods his head. He looks genuinely apologetic as he delivers the news, for the record.

“That’s… really long.” You say, albeit calmer now. But you still can’t imagine it.

“It’s just an estimate. Contractor said it might be faster than that, but they still need to do a full assessment of your unit tomorrow, together with the water damage restoration company. We’re doing all we can to respond to the situation. We’re also talking to your upstairs neighbor about the stipulation of his negligence.”

You nod along to his words.

Obviously, it’s his job to ensure everything’s taken care of, but still, you’re appreciative of the way they are going about the current situation. You’ve heard horror stories about tenants getting into arguments with their building managers or landlords when their apartments experience accidents.

“Can I ask about relocation?” You ask. You have to read your lease again to make sure.

“Unfortunately, it’s not indicated in your lease policy, but your renter’s insurance should cover it. You can also talk to your landlord about reducing your rent for this month due to the inconvenience.”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

The plumber and some of the help the building manager employed to dry up your place from the accidental flood had already left a while ago, and soon, Mr. Han’s figure disappears entirely after a few seconds as you watch him walk down the flight of stairs and away from the building.

You can hear the loud whirring of the air movers placed inside your unit from where you stood on your porch. Your hair’s damp, including some spots on your work clothes from the water that trickled down your ceiling as you panicked earlier to pack some of your belongings in a medium-sized luggage you managed to grab in the timeframe.

It’s the state that Jungkook catches you in when you see him emerging from the stairs, looking like he also just got back from work.

“Hey, what happened?” Jungkook, with his brows furrowed, looks at you with worried eyes, sounding equally concerned.

You sigh. “Hey,” you greet weakly. “My apartment got flooded.”

“What?”

“It’s the upstairs neighbor. He apparently left his tub running while he went to work this afternoon,” You take a sharp breath, getting pissed again at the negligence. So goddamn stupid, really. “He flooded his own place and the water leaked to my ceiling, and when I got back home from work I was welcomed with two inches of water on my floor.”

“What the hell?” Jungkook says in disbelief. You nod at his reaction. That is exactly what you said when you heard the story from the property manager. “Are you okay?” He asks, and you appreciate it.

“Not sure about that.” You answer honestly.

Jungkook furrows his brows. “You called your landlord immediately?”

Letting out a sigh again, you nod and move to sit on your suitcase – the lonesome bag that you’re planning to bring with you to wherever the hell you’re going to stay tonight. You don’t even think you have enough clothes in it.

“My place is a complete wreck. Most of the water’s drained, though, and the building manager brought some help inside and they put air movers inside to dry the place right now.” You blow air to the strand of hair that escapes from your ponytail out of frustration. “It’s a shitshow, I know.”

“Good that they responded fast,” Jungkook comments, but concern is still etched on his face as he asks you, “Have you called your insurance company yet?”

“Yeah, we’re emailing right now.” You tell him, showing your phone. You hate sending email through such a small device but you left your laptop back at the office – which is kind of a good thing, now that you think about it – because it would’ve gotten flooded had you left it in your place.

“Did you document everything?”

Your response comes in a little curt.

“Yes, Jungkook. I did.” The onslaught questions just somehow seemed to prompt irritation in you, and you can’t help but add, “I know everything I have to do. I’m an adult.”

Predictably, you render Jungkook surprised.

“I— I didn’t mean it like that. I apologize.”

When you look up at him, you see his expression softening – and you feel bad for what you just did.

Chill, __. He’s just asking logical questions.

“No, I’m sorry,” You shake your head, feeling a little ashamed for bursting like that. You shouldn’t have talked to him like that, anyway. “I don’t know why I snapped, you’re just asking the important questions.”

Jungkook hesitantly hovers his hand on your shoulder, and the look he gives you seems to be asking for permission to touch you. You don’t even know if that’s his intention, but you give him a nod.

He smiles, tapping your shoulder for a brief second, saying, “It’s okay. You must be really stressed right now.”

“You think I can’t be calm in this situation?” You look at him with a blank expression. Jungkook’s taken aback and you witness the very split second his smile drops form his face, probably thinking he said something wrong. Then you can’t help it, you break. “I’m just fucking with you.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow as he sees you bursting into a gentle laugh, breaking your serious demeanor.

He shakes his head slowly, seemingly incredulous of the stunt you just pulled.

“You and your jokes…”

“You should’ve seen your face.”

“You got me.” Jungkook chuckles.

“I’m sorry… it’s just me trying to ignore the fact that my apartment literally got flooded and those loud and big ass fans they placed inside are about to tear my ears off.”

You see the way Jungkook’s face winces.

“Where are you staying for the night, then?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, genuinely not sure about your options. “Probably gonna book a hotel or something.”

Of course you’ve thought about Jimin. He can probably easily help you find a place for the meantime but it’d probably be hard with him not being physically in the country just yet. Sol also crossed your mind, but you remember she has a roommate.

Getting a hotel to temporarily stay at is the most obvious option there is. It would be too much of a hassle, not to mention expensive, but—

“You can stay at mine for the night.”

You think you’re getting around to Jungkook offering you help without you even asking – but it doesn’t mean you still don’t get a little taken aback when he gives it so willingly and so quickly like this.

“No.” You shake your head.

“Seriously.” Jungkook stares at you.

You stare at him right back.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” He raised his brow.

“I can’t think of reasons right now.”

“You don’t need to think at all.”

You squint your eyes at him, he does the same.

Soon enough, Jungkook breaks first and laughs.

“Come on! You’re gonna freeze in here.”

Hesitantly, you say, “… Are you sure?”

“What are you worried about?” He cocks his head to the side, awaiting your response.

Well. There’s a lot to be worried about.

There’s the thing where you always just seem to be caught into some shit and then he catches you right exactly in it. It’s starting to get embarrassing.

But Jungkook just doesn’t really seem to mind it.

“Nothing, really.” Is what you weakly settled for.

“Okay…” He trails off, raising a brow, obviously a bit confused. “Then what’s the big deal? Do you really want to go through the hassle of picking out hotels and booking a room at this hour? You have to go to work tomorrow.”

You visibly wince at the mention of work.

He’s right and you kind of hate it.

“You’re right…” you say after a while.

“You’re staying at mine?” Jungkook asks again, in which you nod your head in confirmation.

You stand up from your suitcase and pull up the handle. Then you look at him sincerely to give him a smile. “Thank you. I think this is like the five hundredth time this kind of thing happened between you and I.”

“Not counting.” Jungkook shrugs. “Have you had dinner yet?”

You nod your head. “I went with a friend— a co-worker.”

Jungkook visibly stills.

“The guy from a few days ago at the restaurant around work?”

You perk up at that, surprised he still recalls that day.

“Yeah, that’s him. Taemu. From the IT dep.”

He nods. You don’t know if he’s interested or not.

You think it’s a bit random that he brought that up, though, but you shake the thoughts away and call his name.

Jungkook looks at you.

“Thank you.” You say, hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

He chuckles. “You’re welcome,” Jungkook then gestures to the luggage you’re holding. “Let me.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say yes before he takes the handle from you and carries the luggage with him to the direction of his place just across from yours.

You consciously try to make your steps lighter as you walk out of the shower box, making your way towards your suitcase to check on the clothes you packed.

When you open it, you thank the heavens that there are underwear – and a lot of them, for the record – but as you rummage around some more, you find that other than your work clothes, you only have nightwear inside. And when you say nightwear, not the comfortable cotton pajama kind but the nightie one – and that basically means the baby blue silky set of tiny camisole and shorts that can pass as a pair of panties.

I can’t possibly wear these, you think to yourself, hastily burying the pieces of clothing in the bottom of your luggage.

It shouldn’t mean anything – those are nightwear after all! But it was already embarrassing to ask Jungkook earlier if you could use his shower and his towel. You can’t come out of the bathroom wearing clothes that Jimin once tagged as “slutty pjs”. Not when you’re in Jungkook’s place.

“__?”

You look over to the door when you hear Jungkook’s voice, a knock following.

“Yes?” You answer.

“Do you have clothes in there?”

At the question, your gaze automatically falls to the suitcase where the thin strap of the camisole peeks out in between some other clothes that are completely useless for the night.

With hesitance, you say, “Uhm… do you possibly have a shirt I can borrow? I promise to clean it and return it to you tomorrow, ASAP.”

You hear him chuckle from the other side. “I brought you some. There’s also a pair of sweatpants but I’m not sure if they’ll fit you.”

It’s hard to not celebrate silently when Jungkook says that – but you might have jumped a little at his words.

When you walk towards the door and open it, you give Jungkook a huge smile as you tell him, “Thanks!”

He stops. And then you stop.

You realize you’re only in your towel – his towel, to be exact.

You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks the moment it registers.

Before you can do or say anything, Jungkook moves on quickly and stretches his arm, thrusting the clothes he’s mentioned into your way.

“There.” He says simply, smiling at you.

You take them from his hand, giving him a smile too, albeit a bit awkward.

“T-thanks.”

Jungkook turns on his heel to leave, and you lock the door to the bathroom as soon as he walks away.

You settle his clothes on top of the flat surface of the lavatory, physically shaking your head as you look at yourself in the mirror to shake your thoughts away.

Thoughts of his slightly parted lips when you opened the door while you’re only in a towel.

But it happened in such a split second that you’re not sure if it even happened.

When you take his white shirt, it feels soft to the touch and there’s a scent of fresh laundry that wafts through your nose when you wear it on yourself.

It’s loose on you, the sleeves almost covering your whole arms and the hem stopping mid-thigh. But because of that, it feels comfortable – like the oversized shirts you wear to bed that you, unfortunately, weren’t able to pack with you in the heap of panic.

But the pants show a different case. It’s so big that it drags on the floor as you wear it.

You made do, though; drawing the strings tightly and and knotting them together, pulling up the gartered hems up to your calf.

When you come out of the bathroom, Jungkook welcomes you with nothing but a towel wrapped around his lower half.

“H-hey,” You stammer, eyes meeting his own to avoid looking at his naked torso.

“I was just going in. You done?” He casually says, as if he doesn’t mind being naked in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m done. Thanks for the clothes.” You say, gesturing across your body.

“Looks good.” Jungkook comments before entering the bathroom.

You think your cheeks just got impossibly hotter.

The sound of water running is heard before you scramble to the living room.

Why was he naked?!

Okay, he wasn’t actually naked naked but still, he had no clothes on. Why did he have no clothes on? You’re trying to erase the image of his torso, the lines that draw an obvious four-pack, his firm-looking chest, and the way the tattoos over his right arm apparently go way above his shoulder. It’s obvious that he goes to the gym and works out from the way those polo sleeves of his always hug his biceps a little too tight – and with a body like that, you completely understand why he wouldn’t mind parading it around.

The AC in his unit is turned on, but it suddenly feels way too hot from where you currently sit on his couch.

Shut up. Ugh. You tell yourself internally.

Completely wanting out of that headspace, you decide to take out your iPad to get in contact with your insurance company to discuss your current situation, and it does a good job of keeping your mind off Jungkook for a while.

You’re so deep in the activity that you don’t even notice a few minutes has already gone by, and with that, you don’t notice Jungkook coming out of the shower.

When you see him in your periphery, he’s now thankfully dressed in a shirt and some basketball shorts. He’s drying his hair as he walks over to your direction in the living room.

You look at him in surprise when you notice the pillow and comforter he has in his hands.

“Sorry. You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped,” you say, standing up from the couch, ready to help him with it, assuming that you’ll be on the couch tonight.

Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows. “I’m taking the couch.”

You stare at him, ready to hear him say he’s kidding or something but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

You shake your head vigorously.

“No, that’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous about it?” Jungkook says, putting the pillows on the couch, starting to make it all the while looking at you through the process to engage.

“It’s your place.” You reason.

“And you’re my guest.” He says as a matter of fact.

“But—”

Jungkook cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence.

“__, it’s fine, really. You can take my bed. I insist.”

“Jungkook…” you trail off, sounding more like a whine.

He laughs and then looks at you with a playful smile. “Okay, should we compromise? Like, what, share the bed or the couch?”

You ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the suggestion.

You honestly don’t know why Jungkook says these kinds of things. You know it’s just his usual teasing, but he’s about to confuse you one of these days…

“God, no.” You respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles. “Oh, is sleeping with me that repulsive to you?”

You push a little at his shoulder and roll your eyes.

When Jungkook’s done fixing the couch, he gestures to the door by the far end of the room. “Come on, I'll take you to the bedroom.”

You both walk towards that direction and as much as you’ve been over his place for more than once now, you’ve actually never seen his room – and for the record, why would you?

But it looks nice. Just like the rest of his apartment’s interior, his room is also almost the same. Kind of bare, but there are some sleek furniture that add character to the whole place.

“Too cold?” Jungkook asks, and you look at him to see him holding the remote of his AC.

“The temp’s fine.”

He hums and puts down the remote.

“Alright, then. Just call me if you need something.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the door. He’s about to leave when you call him again.

“Good night, Jungkook. Thank you for your bed.”

“Good night, __. Uh… sweet dreams?”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook laughs.

When he leaves, you sit on his mattress covered by black duvets and sheets. It’s soft, and you let yourself bounce on the fluffy surface, delighting at the feel.

It’s about the same size as yours, and when you lay on it, you smell that usual scent that Jungkook always emanates. Clean, crisp, a little sweet. Like fresh apples. Or fresh laundry. He just always smells so… clean.

You feel a little sense of strangeness at the different environment you’re in, but the bed is too soft that you feel like you’re almost floating – and maybe it’s because you are tired from work and drained from the whole fiasco at your apartment, but you fall asleep fast and heavy within just a few minutes.

You almost jump from the bed when you open your eyes and see a different type of bedding, only to realize that you’re actually not in your apartment and in Jungkook’s instead.

After processing that, you begin to do a little stretching, finding that you slept quite well. As you do so, your eyes catch the digital clock on the bedside table, and you read 4:30 am.

It’s a bit too early to start getting ready for work, but maybe if you start prepping now, you’ll be ready to go out just as when Jungkook is waking up.

When you stand from the bed, you discover the absence of pants around your waist, the cold air sending goosebumps over your bare legs – and as expected, you see the sweats getting caught in between the heaps of dark sheets on the bed.

You must have taken it off in the middle of the night. It’s why you usually forgo pants when you sleep.

You decide against wearing it again, though, assuming that Jungkook is still sound asleep by now so he can’t possibly see you walking around his place naked from the waist down. Besides, the shirt’s big and almost serves as a dress.

Carrying the pants with you, you silently open the door to his bedroom to tiptoe on your way to the bathroom.

“Hey,”

“Jesus christ!” You clutch your heart at the sudden sound of Jungkook’s voice booming across the unit.

When you look at him, he’s… working out. Apparently.

Jungkook takes out the airpods from his ears and drink from his tumbler.

“What are you tiptoeing for?” He asks, brows furrowed.

From where you stand, you see droplets of sweat on the side of his forehead, his chest heaving from the push-ups you catch him doing a few seconds ago on the mat that he laid on the floor. There are small weights on the side, and Jungkook is still wearing his clothes from last night.

Did he possibly just… wake up and then choose to exercise? Is this his everyday routine?

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you make up an excuse that’s kind of partly true. He slept on the couch in the living room, after all. And from the sala, everything is pretty much visible to the eye as the unit has an open layout. So one single noise could’ve awakened him.

“Too late for that,” Jungkook chuckles. He looks at you longer than a second and you’re just about to get conscious when he asks, “You get ready for work at four?”

You purse your lips into a thin line. “Sort of. I also have to check my place.” Jungkook nods, understanding. “Uh, Jungkook?” He hums to acknowledge you. “Can I use your shower? Again?”

He laughs at the way you smile at him awkwardly. “Sure. Your towel’s just over the rack.”

“Thanks.” You smile at him and go straight to the bathroom.

You make quick work of washing yourself, and the shower, just like last night, isn’t your usual routine because of course, most of your stuff are still over at your place. Though Jungkook is kind enough to lend you some of his unused products – even giving you a spare toothbrush which now sits beside his own on the bathroom sink.

When you finish showering, you wear his shirt and his pants once again. As you go out of the bathroom, the sound of oil popping from the kitchen doesn’t escape your ears.

“I made breakfast.” Jungkook says as you make your way towards the kitchen island. He’s a few steps away, working around the stove, frying up some sausage. He takes some eggs and then turns to you. “How do you like your eggs?”

You’re sure he doesn’t mean anything by that, but then you both laugh at the realization anyway.

“Sunny side up.” You say after a while, seating yourself on one of the high stools. “Can I help you?”

“It’s okay, just sit there.”

You put your elbow on the island as you watch him work. “Wow, do you really treat all your guests like this?” You tease, deciding to poke a joke.

Jungkook laughs as he starts breaking eggs into the frying pan.

“You’re the first one.” He raises a brow your way, lips tilted into a playful smile.

“Awe.” You pretend to curtsy which makes Jungkook laugh.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook serves you a plate of sausage and perfectly-made sunny side up. You say a delighted “thank you!” in which Jungkook returns an adorable smile for.

You thought he was going to eat with you, but he only ate the sausage and began to work on cutting up some bananas while you continued to eat.

“What did they say about your apartment? How long is the repair?” Jungkook asks while he takes out a mixer.

“Week-long,” He visibly winces at your answer. You purse your lips. “I’m trying to look for a place to stay for the remaining days.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Lease doesn’t cover relocation?”

“Talked to the building manager and the landlord last night and they said it doesn’t. I also read the policy again myself last night, though, just to be sure. Anyway, landlord’s cutting my rent this month for up to thirty, so that’s something.”

“Okay… how about your stuff?”

As you watch Jungkook during the whole conversation, you realize that he’s apparently making a protein shake, and when he finishes shaking the bottle, he gestures it towards you, silently asking if you want to try it.

You shake your head, also answering his question. “I already filed a claim on it with my insurance company, so they’re handling it for me. They’re probably going to seek reimbursement from my upstairs neighbor’s insurance if he has one,” You shrug. “And I’m also gonna have to ask him to pay for the deductible.”

Jungkook nods, consuming his drink. You watch as he leans back on the kitchen sink, putting his protein shake down and crossing his arms, looking right at you.

“Why don’t you stay here for a while?”

You look right back at him weird.

“You’re not serious.”

“When am I not serious?”

You hold a staring competition after that, but Jungkook’s eyes are way too intense so you break away first.

“I just can’t.” You say, interrupting the silence.

“It’s friend to a friend. I bet you’d do this for me too.” Jungkook shrugs.

He doesn’t understand, though. Staying at his place for the remaining six days would mean that you’d be both living under the same roof together, and while it’s true that you would probably do this for him if he was in your shoes, it’s just not the same.

But you don’t want to get into all that. It’s too complicated to explain, even to yourself.

So you decide to joke a little.

“Probably not.” You tease.

Jungkook chuckles. “Mean.” He comments, shaking his head at you and playfully clicking his tongue.

“I’m joking,” you smile apologetically. “It’s just for six more days, though. The manager told me it might take faster.”

“Where do plan to stay, anyway? A hotel would be really inconvenient. The nearest one around here is too far from work, not to mention it’d be expensive as well.”

“There’s loss of use coverage,” You say, even though you know the stipulation, and your apartment flooding because of your neighbor’s negligence might probably not be in the clauses.

It’s just to reason with Jungkook, but he’s quick to present another point.

“It’s gonna take a long while, no?”

You pout. Sighing, you say, “You’re right.”

“Okay, so why not stay here?” Jungkook asks curiously. “You know I don’t mind. I won’t mind.” He says and it sounds so convincing and genuine.

You decide to deflect a little because you feel like giving in any seconds now.

“You say that but wait until you find that I’m not very likeable as a roommate.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Shoot. Hit me.”

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you try to think of your bad habits.

“I…” you trail off, but it stretches into seconds way longer than necessary.

Jungkook chuckles. “See, you can’t even list one.”

“I don’t cook.” You point out.

“I already know that.”

You frown. “So we can’t take turns cooking while I stay here.”

Jungkook only shrugs. “There’s take-out.”

“You’re gonna eat take-out for a week?”

“I can cook.” He chuckles.

“Okay… but sometimes, I get super cranky.”

He nods. “I’ll be out of your way, then. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

You sigh, out of reasons now.

“I’ll try to be helpful with you in the kitchen for the next six days. And I’ll also be nice.”

Jungkook’s brows perk up. “You’re saying you want to stay here?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “But… I wan to pay you.”

“__, the whole reason why I’m offering is because a hotel is gonna cost you,” Jungkook laughs.

That prompts you to put a frown on your face.

“Fair point. But I’m going to take your couch the entire time, okay? And that’s final.”

It takes a little longer for Jungkook to agree to that. But he nods his head, anyway, saying, “Sure.”

It sounds so non-committal. You think he's going to still try insisting taking the couch.

“Okay.” You say, ignoring that thought, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

“You know you’re always welcome, right?” Jungkook says.

You’re thankful he turns around after he says that to tend to the stuff he used a while ago in the sink, giving you a perfect leeway to avoid his gaze lest he takes notice of the way you can’t help a big smile.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Finish your breakfast.” He says, pointing to your unfinished plate.

You give him a small salute.

Before he goes to the direction of the bathroom, Jungkook turns around to ask. "Do you want to go to work together?" He raises a brow, but then a second after his question, he puts a hand up, effectively stopping you from answering. "You're gonna say no. But I insist. Say yes, I made you breakfast."

You laugh at his squinted eyes.

"I was going to say yes, anyway."

"No, you weren't." Jungkook fires back.

You shoo him away playfully before he finally leave for the shower.

All you can think about is that maybe silver linings are indeed true.

Sharing a space with somebody has always felt… weird.

You had a roommate back in college for the whole four years, and while it wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to you – it was just an experience that didn’t really strike you as something memorable or fun. Min Heeji was a Bio major who was an extreme introvert, and past the casual hi’s and hello’s, you both just never hit it off.

After moving out of your dorm, you rented around Itaewon. You found the unit through a listing you saw on Facebook – some woman who was finding a roommate to split the rent with. You found out later that the reason why the previous people before you left was because she was quite an interesting lady… let’s just say – she was a person who dabbled on the arts of illegal drug trading. Jimin jokingly told you he wondered about how her weed tasted like. Sometimes, you want to smack him on the head.

You pretty much decided on being against roommates for the entirety of your life after that.

But Jeon Jungkook is thankfully not a total hermit, nor does he sell weed.

It’s been long since you lived with somebody, and being under the same roof as him is different – the good kind of different, to be clear.

He’s somewhat a clean freak so it’s almost embarrassing to do anything in his place because it’s always so spot clean.

One thing that you learned though is that he’s a busy man. You had an idea about a packed schedule and non-existent free time for an executive person like him – but the idea feels more real now that you’ve witnessed it.

On the first day of your stay, after your apartment got flooded, he drove you both to work just like he offered. During the night, though, he seemed to have come home late. You slept at around 10pm and never saw him entering the door, and when you woke up the next day, he’s gone, only a note on the fridge telling you that he’s prepared some breakfast you can heat up to eat.

Nonetheless, you feel into quite an easy routine with him.

After a great deal of insistence from your side, Jungkook is rightfully assigned in his bedroom while you lay on the couch. It’s a bit bigger than the one you have on your own, so there’s space for moving around. Even when you wake up with shitty back pains in the mornings, sleeping on his couch is better than sleeping in your current wreck of an apartment as the contractor is already repairing your place.

As of the third day since the incident, they’ve already changed your ceiling, the flooring coming next. It was starting to look good as per your visit.

That made it clearer to you, though, that you’re indeed staying at Jungkook’s for another four days.

Jungkook was so busy that he even worked on a Saturday – told you that it was a hectic week for his team over a shared dinner that you thought will happen only once during your stay with his packed schedule. On Sunday, you kind of assumed that Jungkook will still be at the office, but he surprised you when he came barging in the bathroom while you were in it.

You had your leg propped on the edge of the bathtub, squeezing the bottle of lotion in your palm and spreading the cream over the skin of your shin, adjusting the towel up your thighs so you can cover your entire leg with the product.

You did so mindlessly, part of your usual after-shower routine, completely unassuming of the sound of the doorknob clicking and Jungkook suddenly barging inside the room with a hamper in his hand.

Frozen in your position, your eyes locked into his own as he stepped a foot forward on the tiled floor. You realized the hamper is his laundry.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” Jungkook apologized, and he looked genuinely bashful.

“I thought you were at work.” you said, adjusting the towel on the top of your head.

Jungkook raised a brow, but there’s a smile on his lips. “On a Sunday?”

You narrowed your eyes at him which prompted him to laugh. A beat of silence, and then you noticed Jungkook’s gaze. You felt his eyes to the direction of your raised leg on the porcelain tub – and if your own sight didn’t deceive you, you could’ve sworn he’d made a quick glance-over to the expanse of your bare leg before he snapped right back into looking at your face.

“Anyway, I was just gonna do my laundry,” Jungkook twisted himself away from the bathroom’s door. “I’ll wait for you to finish, though. I’m sorry again for barging in.”

At that, you quickly shook your head and planted both your feet on the tiles, standing upright.

“No, it’s fine. I’m done, anyway. Are you in a hurry? I just need to change into some… clothes.” You said, glancing at the heap of some pajama pants and a t-shirt on the bathroom sink.

“Not in a hurry. You can change here.” Jungkook gave you a small smile.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ll be super quick.”

Your lips curled into an apologetic smile, but Jungkook waved you off.

He took one last look at you before he locked the door – one thing that you forgot to do in the very first place.

You blamed it on your habit of not really being mindful about it since you were used to living alone.

The day after that – one fateful Monday – Jungkook once again was MIA at his own place. You woke around 6 am, and as you got ready for work, you noticed a note on his fridge that he went to work earlier than usual that day, and he’d also be working late so you should lock up at night.

At the company, you did not even catch a single glimpse of him.

You bought some food on your way to his place later that day, thinking that maybe you could share a meal together – nevermind the fact that he had told you he was going to be home late. But you did not expect his “late” would exceed past 11 pm, and since you were also pretty much tired from your own activities for that day, you fell asleep on the couch without making it, lying on the surface with no pillows and comforter over your body.

In your dreams that night, you felt like you were floating.

Somebody has tucked their arms under your knees and neck, taking you off the previous surface you were lying on. The unfamiliar man cradles your body against his, carrying you somewhere and putting you on a much softer place. A mattress. A big, soft, mattress. And you noted that the man smelled of green apples and laundry. An almost familiar scent.

Needless to say, your dream was quite vivid that night.

When you woke up the next morning, you were welcomed with the familiar grey paint of the walls – the white ceiling, and the dark sheets and pillows that surrounded you. A waft of fresh laundry smell. The Iron Man figurine on the top shelf of the cabinet in the corner of the room. The black slippers on the side of the door that are way too big to be yours.

Jungkook.

The strange man in your dreams was Jungkook. And it wasn’t a dream at all.

It was Jeon Jungkook who carried you all the way to his bedroom from the sofa so you could sleep comfortably on it.

When you went out of his room that morning, ready to thank him and tell him he didn’t have to do what he did, feeling bad at the thought of him sleeping on his couch at his own place, Jungkook was nowhere to be found.

But as if it was becoming tradition, there was a note on his fridge that told you: I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my room. I found you uncomfortable on the couch last night. Didn’t cook us breakfast because I have to go to work early again today, but I’ll have food delivered at around 7. Good morning, __ :)

— Jungkook.

That night, though, Jungkook miraculously came home early.

He arrived an hour after you, just in time as you finished doing the prep for the bibimbap you were planning to eat on your own, assuming Jungkook was going to be late again. When you saw him entering the door, you decided to make the portions of the ingredients bigger, thinking that it was the perfect opportunity to say thank you for the other night.

And you did not forget to say that either.

“Thank you for last night. You didn’t have to…” you trailed off, giving him a sheepish smile across the dining table as you both ate.

Jungkook, with his mouth full of rice – seemingly (thankfully) enjoying the meal you prepared for him – munched on it before he said, “You looked real tired. And uncomfortable, which reminds me, you should sleep in the bedroom as well tonight.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jungkook. Last night was just – uh, I was waiting for you to come home because I didn’t want to just lounge around your living room while you aren’t around, but then I guessed you arrived a little late.”

Out of all the things you’d said, it seemed Jungkook only remembered one thing.

“You were waiting for me to come home?” He said, his hand reaching for the side dish pausing mid-air, eyes trained to you. Curious, his brow piqued in what seemed like genuine intrigue.

You stopped. You went over your words, not realizing those came out of your mouth.

Obviously, you didn’t mean for that to slip out.

So, you shook your head slowly. Hesitantly, you reasoned, “It’s just you’re always in your room first before I fix the couch for bedtime. So.” You shrugged, knowing your explanation didn’t suffice.

Jungkook gave you a nod with small a smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, then. It’s just extra busy at the company these days.”

Your brows furrowed in curiosity, “Yeah, I heard about the collaboration with Kang Tech.”

You found out about it at work that day. It’s in the accounts payable you’ve worked on the past few days, and when you asked Joonhwi and Sol about it, they confirmed the recent moves the company is recently making.

You also realized then that the reason why the mystery woman in the elevator was familiar to you was because you’ve seen pictures of her before.

Of course you’d know her. She’s the woman Jimin’s parents are trying to set him up with. The one and only Kang Heesu. She took over as CEO just very recently at Kang Tech.

Apparently, Blue Nexus and Kang Tech are collaborating on a product that will be announced later during the month – which explains her being at the company oftentimes, Jungkook being busy, drowned with work stuff – them working closely together.

Whatever you felt on that day you saw them together – you’d like to dismiss that as just a blip in the system. Your system, to be exact.

It isn’t any of your business whoever gets around with Jungkook. Whether he’s close with Kang Heesu outside work or not (like what you’ve pondered about ever since finding out about the information of their collaboration) – that’s their thing.

“Yeah, the team’s been working overtime because of it.” Jungkook added to your words from earlier.

“So, you’re more tired than I am,” You pointed out, noting the obvious. He went to work at the ass-crack of dawn, went home late, and whenever he was home – all he faced was his laptop.

You even doubt he was getting enough sleep. There were bags under his eyes that weren’t there the past month you first met him – and even though he carried them with a certain grace, you could still see that some of the shine in his eyes was becoming absent.

You were glad you were able to prepare something for him. Did something for him. You didn’t have to – but you did. Because you wanted to be a helpful roommate.

“Does it show?” Jungkook chuckled, leaning back on the chair, a bashful expression on his face.

You shook your head. “Nope. But yeah, you don’t need to give up your bedroom tonight. I’ll be fine here.”

“I actually bought something. Wait a minute,” Jungkook suddenly said. Your brows furrowed when you watched him saunter over the living room and in towards his bedroom. When he came back to the dining area, he was carrying a huge paper bag. You looked at him, visibly confused. Jungkook cleared his throat as he sat back down on his seat. “I was thinking you could use this. It’s a foldable cushion or whatever so you can sleep more comfortably on the couch.”

You gawked at the paper bag, and then at him.

“What?”

“I went to the mall yesterday and the lady told me this is one of their best sellers… I don’t know. Do you want to have a look at it?” Jungkook said, worry seeping in his tone.

“That’s a… cushion? For the couch?”

He nodded.

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could utter. You didn’t really know what to say. “I… this is really thoughtful. You didn’t have to, you know that, right?”

Jungkook shook his head and gave you a small smile.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You told him sincerely.

“It’s nothing.” He waved you off. “I got that dry-cleaned already, by the way, so you can use it tonight if you really insist on sleeping on the couch.” Jungkook said with a teasing smile.

“That,” you point to the paper bag, “will single-handedly get me to want to live here for another three months.”

Jungkook raised his brow. “Really?”

You chuckled, leaving the conversation up on the air.

When you both finished your meal, you offered to do the dishes yourself, but Jungkook was insistent to do it, saying you’ve already done a lot for the day. You begged to differ, but you relented, anyway.

After you showered and made the couch, geeking internally at how soft the cushion he bought was, you couldn’t sleep right away, your mind finding it hard to focus on the lull of the crickets. So, at around 11 pm, you opened your laptop to pull up an X-Files episode, thinking it could condition you into being sleepy.

You promised yourself you were just going to finish one more episode, but the next episode button was too tempting and you found yourself binging the show into the wee hours of the night.

“__?” A voice coming from the far end of the room called, followed by the clicking sound of the lights turning on. With that, you found Jungkook standing on his door with his eyes half-lidded, hands rubbing his chest, seemingly having just woken up from his sleep.

“Jungkook,” you acknowledged him, straying your attention from your show. Jungkook started to trot towards the direction of the kitchen, and your eyes followed him as he stopped in front of his fridge, taking some water out and pouring it into a glass.

After he drank it, he looked at you to ask, “Can’t sleep?” You nodded your head. He made his way towards the couch, pointing at it. “Would you mind?”

“No, do you want to?” You adjusted the duvet you put all over your back to make room for him, and Jungkook placed himself beside you, peering over the screen on your laptop.

“What are you watching?” He asked, voice a little groggy.

“The X-Files. You know the show?”

“Heard about it a few times. Never gotten around to watch it, though,” Jungkook said, leaning on the back of the couch, eyes still glued to your laptop.

You smiled. “Maybe you can start it now.”

“What’s it about?”

“Uh… aliens,” you started off, feeling a little silly about it. Gauging his reaction, you waited for him to give you a judgmental look but he seemed to be intrigued when he looked at you, asking for more details. You perked up that, feeling suddenly excited. “Okay, so, the guy here – his name’s Mulder. He’s an FBI agent who’s tasked on cases that have, you know, unexplainable nature. Basically, he believes in aliens, all that ET stuff,” you explained. Right on time, Gillian Anderson appears on frame. Pointing at her, you looked at Jungkook as you introduced her to him, “And the woman – she’s so pretty – that’s Scully. She’s a skeptic. She’s an FBI agent who’s also a scientist and was assigned to be with him to debunk his work.”

“So, they investigate cases together?” Jungkook added.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s different for each episode. There’s the alien storyline which is like, the main plot of the show, but there’s the fun filler episodes. Monster of the week, they call it. I’m rewatching one of those right now ‘cause they’re fun and don’t have a backstory.”

“It sounds good,” Jungkook looked impressed, training his eyes back on the show.

You weren’t sure if he was just trying to make a conversation, but he seemed genuinely interested as you both watched the show, which tickled your excitement more. You’ve tried to get Jimin into it but he wasn’t really an avid fan of watching long shows, so you’ve given up on trying to convince him to be as obsessive of the show as you.

“Do they kiss?” Jungkook suddenly asked mid-episode, brows furrowed as he watched Mulder wiped something off the side of Scully’s lips. It’s the episode when Scully just got back from being abducted.

Amused, you looked at him and let out a chuckle. Jungkook turned to look at you, confused at the reaction.

“Hm?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just funny. So, there’s a thing in this show, right? Scully and Mulder are not supposed to be a couple, but they act like one.”

Jungkook let out a seemingly enlightened, “Ah.” Then he looked at your screen again, “I’m watching it right now out of context and I’m assuming they’re a couple.”

“Right? They have such insane chemistry. It’s why I love this show so much.”

“Wait. They never get together? Or kiss, romantically?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“They kiss on the seventh season. We’re on the second one.”

“Wow,” He breathed, genuinely surprised. “That’s a long wait.”

“I know,” you chuckled.

You both sat beside each other as the episode finished. Jungkook would have some questions, and you happily answered each one. It was also fun to share some lore about the show – and you didn’t know if you were coming off too geeky about it – you were just unbelievably excited that he seemed to genuinely like it.

Time passed without you both noticing, and it was 2:23 am when you became hesitant on clicking the next episode button.

“Do you still want to watch another one or…” You trailed off, eyes glued to the screen, waiting to hear Jungkook’s response. But then a few seconds passed, and you didn’t receive one. Turning your head to the side, your eyes widened when you see the state Jungkook was in.

He was leaning far back on the couch with his head resting on the backrest, arms crossed over his chest, lips slightly parted with his eyes shut closed. You could see his chest rising and falling from the way he breathed in and out of sleep, looking quite peaceful regardless of his seemingly uncomfortable position.

You shut your mouth and closed your laptop quietly, trying to be careful with your movements so as to not disturb him and accidentally wake him up. Stretching your back to lean down, your breath hitched as you tried to set the laptop down on the coffee table, not daring to graze any part of Jungkook’s body, especially when his thigh was so closed to your own.

When you successfully put away the device, you went back to sitting beside him, contemplating on your next move.

You ended up staring at him, noting the way his biceps are bulging out of the sleeves of his white shirt with a thin material from their crossed position. Your eyes trailed down to the veins on his forearms, and naturally, you focused in on the one with the swirls of ink around it. It was a body of art on the first look – but looking at it at that moment – close up and free, you took time to identify the drawings on his skin.

There was that snake that trailed down close to his hand, the skeletal rock n’ roll hand, and the script that says “rather be dead than cool”. It was a shame that you couldn’t see from your current view the flower tattoo you were always curious about, nevertheless, the entirety of his inked arm was just… breathtaking, to say the least.

You wanted to ask him what they meant – or if they even meant something. You knew by now he only got them in college – when he moved to the US – and you were just curious about how he decided to get them; about the backstory, anything… Would love to trace down your fingers on his skin as he tells you the exact moment.

And then you realized what you were doing and suddenly looked away.

You felt like a creep. What were you doing, staring at him while he was unaware, unconscious in his sleep? It was not right, and you were supposed to scoot over to the edge to give him plenty of space all for himself.

But as you looked at him again, your eyes stopped at his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at it.

Again.

His nose was something you weirdly have a liking to, and there’s a scar on his cheek that once again bubbled up another layer of curiosity within you.

“Stop it.” You mumbled out loud – not loud enough for Jungkook to hear – but just enough to snap yourself out of the trance you were in.

It was stupid. So stupid. To stare at a sleeping man and have those thoughts inside your head. Jungkook would never do anything like this to you, and at that sentiment, you stood up from the couch to get away.

You caught a sight of the duvet that you used a while ago. As you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to be in dire need of one, so you made quiet steps to put it over him, stopping your breathing in case you did it too loud and he wakes up.

As you carefully laid out the blanket on top of his body, Jungkook stirred, and your breath hitched as you stopped on your tracks.

He mumbled something incoherent, his neck craning to lay on his cheek. Regardless, he stayed on his position, arms still crossed, seemingly going back to his deep sleep instantly.

You stepped out in front of him, letting out a breath of relief.

Standing there for a few seconds, you wondered about where you were going to stay. Jungkook was on the couch and unlike him – you could not carry him to his room without him noticing.

Looking at the direction of said room, you thought about staying there for the night, but decide against it. You didn’t get his permission to do so, it’d be rude—

But the couch is only one, though. And you could feel a yawn ready to come out of your own mouth, sleep lurking at the back of your head.

You could try to wake Jungkook up to tell him to go to his room so he could sleep more comfortably, but you couldn’t do it. The past few days, he had been so busy with work and seemed like he wasn’t getting enough rest. What if you woke him up and he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore? That would just make you feel bad.

Getting the pillow strewn over the edge, you walked towards the direction and fixed it against the arm rest, sitting on the spot and making yourself comfortable on it. Of course, it wasn’t – you were craning your neck too far to the side to try to lay your head, and your body was sprawled in a weird sitting and lying position.

It was fine, though. Jungkook was about two feet away from you, and you felt like you could sleep in the state.

But it was a few long minutes before it completely overtook you.

There’s a feeling of a hard plane against your back when you feel yourself waking up.

You’re in a curled position, hands tucked under your cheeks. As much as you’re starting to slowly feel conscious, you’re still not a hundred percent aware of your surroundings just yet. It’s why you ignore the blow of hot air against the crook of your neck.

When you blearily open your eyes, you’re welcomed with the sight of the back of the grey couch you’ve accustomed yourself with over the past few days. The white foldable cushion you’re lying on. The familiar scent of Jungkook’s apartment.

It’s another usual morning, as far as you’re concerned.

So, you stretch an arm up as well as your leg, groggily mumbling something as you go back to closing your eyes again to hopefully sneak in a few more minutes of sleep.

“Hmm…”

At the sudden sound, your eyes snap open, surprised at the embodied voice that came out somewhere that’s definitely not from your own mouth. It was close, though – something close to your neck; you felt it so – and at that realization, your eyes trail down to your waist, and your breath catches in your throat when you see an arm wrapped around it.

Under your head is another arm that adorns a familiar sleeve tattoo.

When you crane your neck to look behind you, you’re welcomed by Jungkook’s locks of black and messy hair, his face apparently buried in the crook of your neck.

He must’ve felt you move because he stirs in his position, mumbling something, arm tightening around you.

You feel your heart starting to beat faster than usual as you feel the tips of Jungkook’s fingers resting on the bare skin of your stomach due to your camisole riding up, and your eyes continue to widen when you saw that the shirt he’s worn last night is now lying haphazardly across the coffee table where your laptop is.

When Jungkook pushes himself against you closer, that’s when you feel something hard against the cleft of your ass.

“Oh my god!”

“What the fuck!”

“I’m so sorry!” You immediately say, retreating your hands that just pushed him off the couch once everything registered in your head.

You just… slept with each other! You woke up with Jungkook spooning you! The hard plane against your back that you felt earlier was his chest and the hot air blowing in your ear was his breath! You both fell asleep together on the couch!

Jungkook – the poor man – visibly winces as he cradles the back of his head, adjusting himself on the floor after you forcefully yeeted him off the couch.

He didn’t expect that, of course he didn’t! He still looks like he’s half asleep when you kneel on the floor in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and craning your neck to check if you’ve done damage to his head.

“What the hell was that for?” Jungkook asks, still lost about what just happened.

You grimace as you hesitantly put your palm over the back of his head and rub to soothe the pain you’ve caused him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. I was just surprised and shocked when I–”

You stopped speaking when you notice that Jungkook is looking up at you, eyes half-lidded from sleep. Stopping your ministration on the back of his head, you retreat your hands to yourself and look away.

“We slept together.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, his tone incredulous, but more like confused. When you train your eyes to him again, you see him looking down on his body and then yours.

Your cheeks heat up when you realize what you just said.

“Oh my god, no! Not slept slept with each other! I mean, we slept together. Like, literally.” You say, looking at him in panic.

Jungkook furrows his brows. And then after a beat of silence, he lets out a low, “Oh.”

“Oh?” You parrot back.

“Yeah, oh,” He says drily. Jungkook rubs his eyes with his fists and then looks at you again. “I’m sorry, I feel disoriented. I just woke up.”

You wince at that, feeling bad for pushing him again.

It was just a reflex thing, okay! Especially when you felt that certain something in your ass.

When Jungkook stands up from the floor, you notice the strings of his grey shorts getting undone, and your eyes betray you as they pay a look at the noticeable bulge on his crotch.

Jesus H. Fucking Christ.

You stand up quickly, following after him, feeling your heart hammer in your chest.

Okay, boo-fucking-hoo! Men get boners in the mornings. What’s the big deal about it?

“What time is it?” Jungkook asks, brushing his hair back, and you have to physically look away and try to busy yourself by looking for your phone so you can ignore his naked chest on display and his abs and stupid big arms.

You spot your phone nearby and turn it on.

“Six thirty.”

“Shit.” Jungkook hisses.

You’ve never heard him let out so many curses before.

“What? It’s still early.” you say, in case he was referring to work.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I was supposed to get ready at five am sharp. Need to go there early.”

“Oh.”

He groans, and the sound makes your stomach feel a little weird.

“I have to go shower,” Jungkook says, picking up his shirt from the coffee table. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Huh?” You realize what he’s talking about and is then quick to shake your head. “No, not your fault. I, uh, you fell asleep on the couch last night and I didn’t want to wake you.”

He nods, more like to himself. “How did we…?” Jungkook points between you, eyeing the couch.

“I didn’t want to use your bed without your permission, so I slept on the couch as well,” But then you decide to add, “But I didn’t sleep beside you, I was like –” you point to the edge of the couch, “there.”

“Ah,” Jungkook follows your eyes, and then nods. “Okay.”

“Yeah.” you purse your lips into a thin line. “Sorry about that. I should’ve just woken you up, huh?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand. “Well, is it okay if I use the shower first?”

“Of course.”

Jungkook smiles before he saunters towards the bathroom. You try not to stare at the hard lines of his retreating back, taping down to his narrow waist.

You failed to do that, obviously.

Sighing out loud when you’re sure he can’t hear you, you busy yourself in the kitchen to make some toast.

After work, you paid a quick visit to your apartment to see how it’s going, since you’re supposed to be able to come back tomorrow.

Your building manager told you that you can pretty much move back already, but there’s no water yet, so you will still have to stay at Jungkook’s place for the last time. At least for another night.

Speaking of him, when you step out on your porch, you see him in front of his own unit, back turned to you, opening his door.

“Hey,” you call. Jungkook turns on his heel, and he smiles as he sees you.

“Hey,” He greets, his hand pausing on the door. Jungkook gives you his undivided attention as he looks at you. “Your apartment’s fine now?”

You nod happily, grinning widely. “Yeah. But I have no water yet. They’re turning it on tomorrow.” You saunter towards his direction and stop beside him. Pointing to the paper bags in his hands, you ask, “What’s that?”

Jungkook lifts them up. “Soju and Midday Miso take-out.” Then, hesitantly, he looks at you curiously. “Do you drink?”

That prompts you to laugh.

“Of course. Are you drinking tonight?”

He nods his head. “Yeah. I was gonna ask you to drink with me… but if you’re not up for it, I’ll just be in my room.”

You cock your head to the side.

“What’s the occasion?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Nothing. Just thought I could loosen up.”

You nod in understanding.

You think about asking him how work’s been, but decide against it, not wanting to pry in case he doesn’t want to talk about any of it.

As you both enter his apartment, it’s almost so domesticated how you take off your shoes and put them in the rack in the threshold. Jungkook wears his black sliders while you wear your baby blue ones. Following him into the living room, it’s almost wild to see yourself being so familiar with his place already.

“Where can we watch The X-Files?” Jungkook asks suddenly after he set the bags on the table, going for the remote and turning on the TV.

You look at him in surprise, not expecting him to ask that.

You answer nonetheless, and Jungkook clicks on the show once it shows up on the screen.

“Do you really want to start with the pilot episode?” You chuckle when he hovers over it.

Jungkook grins. “I enjoyed it last night. Maybe this could be a new favorite.”

“Woah,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Do you know how much I have to convince Jimin to watch this show?”

“Jimin doesn’t like shows. I wanted him to watch Suits but he said he couldn’t stand Harvey Specter – which is fair.”

“Oh my god, that’s also what he told me when I recommended Suits!” You say. You narrow your eyes at him, excited about the information. “So… you like Suits?”

Jungkook nods. “Sort of like a guilty pleasure? I used to watch it a lot in college. My roommate studied law and started telling me about how inaccurate it was, but it’s fun regardless,” He says with a shrug. “Sue me.”

“I know, right! People always wanna be smart about procedural dramas, but I think it’s just camp they can’t comprehend,” You shake your head, feeling a certain high bubble inside you. You lean your elbows on the coffee table. “Okay, okay, thoughts on Jessica Pearson?”

Jungkook grins. “A dream.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad you have the correct opinion.”

Jungkook laughs at that, and you begin to eat the take-out he bought, The X-Files playing on the big screen before you.

“You went home early today,” you comment as you take the shot glass he offers you.

A few minutes has passed already and you’re beginning to open the bottles of soju, Midday Miso take-out boxes all finished.

“Managed to finish early tonight. That’s probably why I wanted to drink,” Jungkook says, tipping his head back to drink from his own bottle. “Also, it’s your last day here.”

You nod. With a teasing smile, you jab, “Are you going to miss me?”

Jungkook looks at you briefly.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” You ask incredulously, feigning hurt.

He chuckles. “I liked your little dance in the kitchen last Sunday.”

Your lips part, recalling that time when you reheated some pizza during the night. As far as you were concerned, Jungkook was in his bedroom at that time!

“You saw that?” You say, embarrassed.

Jungkook must’ve noticed, because he chuckles and begins to sound comforting when he says, “Some part of it, yeah. Megan Thee Stallion would love to perform with you, I think.”

“Oh my god, no,” You giggle, covering your face with your hands because if he caught you during that part, it means he saw you trying to throw it back. “Yeah, I think I’m packing my things right now.”

Jungkook laughs, and his eyes crinkle as he does so, overjoyed at your tactics.

“I thought you wanted to drink with me?”

You squint your eyes. “Just because I feel sorry for pushing you off the couch this morning.”

He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Yeah, that hurt. I think I have a bump on my head right now.”

You stop, eyes widening. “Seriously?”

Jungkook presses his lips together and nods. You grow concerned, ready to lean over the table to check the back of his head, but as you do so, Jungkook makes a sound of stifling his laugh and you realize he’s fucking with you.

“That’s so mean.” you say, going back to your side and pouting at him.

“Not meaner than you pushing me off the couch.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. You just surprised me, 's all!”

Jungkook laughs and nods his head. “I know, I know. I’m sorry about that. I have a habit of being able to sleep anywhere.”

You scrunch your face. “Me too.”

And then a beat of silence.

Jungkook tips his head back for another sip of his alcohol. When he looks at you again, a gentle smile is playing on his lips.

“I had a good night sleep, though. Did you?”

He looks at you with something in his eyes – something soft and gentle – his gaze making the hair on your nape stand and your cheeks burn.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The night continues to envelope your surroundings and as time passes by, the empty bottles of soju multiply.

You’ve always had a high tolerance for alcohol – and soju, in particular, is generally not too strong for you personally. With one bottle in, you don’t feel hammered just yet. There’s a daze at the back of your head that you’re starting to feel, though. One and a half is your limit, sometimes two – you’ve had that down since college.

Jungkook seems to share the same trait, it seems like. You noticed he’s on his second one, and even though his cheeks are starting to get painted red, he still speaks with you like he’s a hundred percent conscious and not like alcohol’s hit his system already.

“It’s so hot,” you say, popping open the first two buttons of your shirt. Jungkook’s coat has long been disposed on the couch, and his ties are loosened, with the long sleeves of his dress shirt pushed to his elbow, showing his tattoos.

“Should I adjust the AC?” Jungkook asks, looking at you as you gather your hair up in a ponytail.

You manage to secure it even without a tie and answer him, “No, it’s fine.”

When you feel like you can breathe again, you look at Jungkook. As you think about what to say next, you giggle lightly.

“Let’s have some fun with these,” You point to the empty bottle of soju. Jungkook quirks his brow, which prompts you to continue. “Let’s play spin the bottle. When it points at you, you have to answer some questions. If you don’t want to, then you’ll have to drink.”

Jungkook snorts. “Truth or dare? Really?”

You roll your eyes. “No, not truth or dare. Just truth because I’m sophisticated like that. Besides, are you going to entertain me if I dare you to wear a rainbow suit for work tomorrow?”

“This is your idea of fun?” Jungkook says, teasing you. Playful with a boyish grin.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s quite fun, actually. But I know about how thirty-year-olds get. If it’s past your bedtime, then…” you glance at the door to his bedroom.

Jungkook bursts out in laughter.

“You like making it sound like I’m sixty, don’t you?”

“Are you?” You pout.

Jungkook chuckles, although relenting to your game proposition.

“Alright…”

You do a little shoulder dance which makes Jungkook shake his head. As you spin the bottle, it stops and points at him. You let out a little sound of enthusiasm.

“Okay. What’s that mean?” You ask. Jungkook looks confused as he tries to see what you’re looking at. His arm. “That flower tattoo – or if it even has a meaning.”

“Oh,” Jungkook utters, realizing. He lifts up his right arm and twists it so that the flower tattoo is within both your sight. There, you see a full view of the flower drawing tattooed in orange ink. You find yourself staring at it as Jungkook starts to speak, “It’s a tiger lily. My birth flower. It means…” You can see Jungkook hesitate for a little while, and you’re just about to take back your question when he continues to say, “It means please love me.”

“Wow.” You gasp. “That’s… so pretty.”

Jungkook caresses his forearm, staring quite lovingly at the art. “I know. My tattoo artist did a really good job.”

He takes it to himself to spin the bottle again, and this time, it points at you.

“Well… do you have a tattoo?” Jungkook asks, and it’s obvious he meant to tease.

You nod your head. His playful smile drops.

“Are you serious?”

You raise your brow at him. “Sorry. Only one question gets entertained.”

He clicks his tongue playfully but then begins to spin the bottle one more time. When it points at you again, he gives you a smirk.

“Can I see your tattoo if you’re saying you have one?”

You scrunch your face, cocking your head to the side.

“Hm. I don’t think so. It’s under my boob. So.”

Jungkook stills, and you watch as his eyes trail down from your face down to your collar – although he did it quite subtly.

“Oh.”

You grin. “Yeah, “oh”,” you chuckle. When he shakes his head, you tell him, “What?” You look at him weird, regardless of the smile on your lips. He stares right back at you, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Ohh, I see. You think I’m lying.”

“No, I’m not,” he scoffs. “I just thought…”

“You just thought what?”

“I just thought you wouldn’t have one. Or if you did, it’d be a like a small thing on the leg or something. I don’t know.” He shrugs, still smiling.

You grin. “Interesting insight.”

“Nevermind that.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, spinning the bottle again.

When the rotation stills at his direction, you clap a little and put your elbows on the coffee table.

Your next question sounds stupid in your head, but you let it out anyway.

“What’s your ideal type?” You ask.

“Oh, are we doing that?” Jungkook says, sounding intrigued. “Are you going to ask me about my first kiss next?”

You snort. “This feels so high school. But answer my question.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He playfully gives you a salute. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, well, I like women who are smart and… funny,” Jungkook says, and when he looks at you, you move back a little. With a soft smile, he adds, “And pretty.”

You break the eye contact. Raising your brow, you nod your head. “Pretty women. Like Kang Heesu, right?”

Jungkook looks surprised when he hears the name.

“How do you know her?”

“How can I not? Jimin’s mother has been trying to set him up with her for months now.” You shrug.

Jungkook chuckles, as if he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Yeah. You’re right – not about the part that she’s my ideal type, though.”

You can’t help but let out a scoff.

“That’s such a cop-out answer, Jungkook.”

He looks at you incredulously, chuckling as he says, “What? It’s not a cop-out, it’s the truth.”

“You’re awfully close with her. I heard from my coworkers you’re both dating.” You raise a brow at him.

It’s true. Words are starting to get around the office that Jungkook and Heesu are more than just collaborators.

Of course, you know to ignore that. Not because you want to be in denial or anything – but because you just don’t think it is actually true.

But maybe poking fun at it will get you the confirmation. Or whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Jungkook laughs at your previous words, though, as if you just told him a big joke.

“God, no,” he shakes his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. “They’re really saying that?” You nod your head, your lips pressed into a thin line. “I ought to make everybody know we’re just working together. You know about the project the company has in collaboration with Kang Tech, right?”

“Yeah.”

“There you go,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m not dating Kang Heesu.”

The words feel a bit different in your ears. Paired with the way he looked at you as he said it, he sounded as though he was… almost assuring you.

But of what?

You shake off the idea in your head.

“Okay. Next one.” you interrupt the silence to change the subject. You curse in your head when the bottle stops at you.

“Your turn. What’s your ideal type?” Jungkook asks as if his tongue is just itching to ask you that. You know he’s just excited to get back at you.

You think about it for a moment, though, and you find you don’t really know what to say.

It’s not a thought you ponder over a lot. The guys that you’ve been with were so… different from each other.

“I—I’m not sure,” you shake your head, genuine.

Jungkook points at the shot glass. “New rule. I’ll count to ten and if you don’t answer, you drink.”

You glare at him; he just gives you a grin.

“I really don’t know! I mean, my past relationships are so different from each other,” you say, pouting. “But— okay. I guess I like guys who are… confident,” You look at Jungkook and then let your mind float. “And I guess I also like somebody who’s…” You watch as he leans in closer to wait for your next words. Your feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you finish up with, “Attentive. I like good listeners. Yeah.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods. And then, he adds, “Is Shin Taemu from the IT department a good listener, then?”

Your brows furrow. “Shin Taemu?” He nods. That earns a laugh from you. “No, we’re friends.”

“Friends?” Jungkook asks curiously.

“Well, we – uh – did date. Didn’t work out. So. We’re only friends now.”

“Date, as in, a long relationship?” His eyes are so full of genuine curiosity that you cower away from them.

You shake your head at his question. “No, no – not long relationship, it wasn’t like that. I meant date as in – dinner date. Once.” You look at the shot glass and down it because of the sudden nerves that enter you. “We’re doing this game wrong.”

Jungkoon chuckles at the way you drink another glass. He mirrors your action, though, and ask, “How so? We’re questioning each other.”

“Yeah, but it’s too many questions!” You complain, jutting your lips into a pout.

“You said you only wanted truth, so there goes your questions,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh. “Okay, just so I can amuse you, I’ll do a dare if it points at me, and you’ll do one if it stops at you. Deal?”

When you nod, Jungkook spins the bottle. He did it quite forcefully that the bottle takes a longer time to stop. You both watch keenly as it begins to slow down. Nervous, you pray it doesn’t stop at you, and you let out a sigh of relief when it finally points to Jungkook.

Jungkook shakes his head when you let out a contained, “Yes!”

“I dare you to…” you trail off, watching as he looks at you curiously. “Let me pluck your brows.”

“What?” Jungkook asks incredulously.

“A promise is a promise.” You remind him.

“Like all of them?”

“What? Of course no!” You chuckle, seeing the genuine panic in his eyes.

“Oh.”

“You silly,” You say, laughing at him. “Not right now, though. I actually feel like I’m about to pass out. Oh my god, I have to tend to a hung-over tomorrow.” You let your face fall into your hands and stifle a groan.

“I’ll cook us some porridge or something, don’t worry.” Jungkook says. Curiously, he asks, “Why do you want to pluck my brows?”

You stare at him, and then focus your eyes onto his brows.

Pouting, you let your shoulders deflate as you sigh. “They’re so thick.”

“What?” Jungkook lets out, laughing incredulously. “I’m so confused.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay… well, would you let me pluck your brows?”

You try to think about it.

“No,” you shake your head. You add, “Unless you’re flirting with me.”

Jungkook stops. And then raises a brow. “Unless I’m flirting with you…”

You snap your eyes to look at him. Mirroring his brow, you ask, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” Jungkook looks at you, lips tilted into a barely-there smirk that suddenly makes your cheeks burn with heat. “Do you like it?”

It takes you a while to answer, processing his words. You don’t know if he’s joking or what. Is this just his usual teasing? It feels different this time.

But why are you denying it again to yourself, though? You may be stupid sometimes, but you know his teasing gets a little… borderline flirty. You’re scared to ask him about it outright, though – afraid to be faced with the possible truth that it’s just your head playing mind-tricks for you; that Jungkook, with his teasing, is not flirty at all and you’re just flattering yourself to think about it that way.

But right now, his question feels real.

If he is flirting with you… do you like it?

You pour a drink into the shotglass and down it quickly. You feel your vision starting to get a little hazy as you put it down the table.

Jungkook realizes what you just did, and then throw his head back to laugh.

“Now, that was a cop-out.” He says, pointing to the trick that you just did.

You give him a smirk. “No rules about not answering except down a drink.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Smart girl.”

He watches as you stand up, but when you trip over the carpet, he’s quick to follow and go over to your direction to hold your wrist, his arm going around your waist to guide you to stand upright.

“You okay?” He asks. When you look up, your faces are just a hair's breadth away.

“Hm.” You hum, blinking your eyes up at him. You find it’s because your lids are starting to get heavy.

“Be careful.” Jungkook says, but he doesn’t let go of your waist, nor your wrist.

You stand there in the middle of the living room with that position, and weirdly enough, you feel like you’re both glued on it.

You can’t move – or don’t want to. You wish you want to. But you don’t, and it’s why you let Jungkook’s fingers trail softly to your waist.

“You look real sleepy,” he comments – whispers, more like, his bated breath hitting your skin.

“I am a bit dazy.” You say, finding yourself indulging in his touch.

Somehow, Jungkook never makes a move to get away even when you’re already steady on both feet. You feel that fading away so soon though, your knees starting to feel like they’re about to buckle at the way Jungkook’s eyes bore deep into your own. You feel a sort of heightened sense within your body, his hand on your back making something in you tingle.

It’s so intimate – the position. Jungkook looms over you with his much bigger frame and with his support on your back, you can just let yourself fall back.

Can you, though? Are you sure he’s going to catch you?

“You do look a little dazy,” Jungkook comments, but his eyes have traveled down to your face, and you can see them stop at your lips.

That makes them part.

You see Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobbing at the action.

“I do feel dazy,” you say, parroting back his words. Maybe they’re coming off slurred. You don’t know. You find you don’t care.

Jungkook’s lips tilt into a gentle smile. Soft like his demeanor. Soft like his arm that somehow found a way to tighten its hold around you even though you don’t need it. But it’s Jungkook though, and as much as you deny it even to yourself – you do like his touch.

“Yeah, you told me so.” His voice becomes an octave lower. His hands start to rub your clothed waist, and the ministrations of his thumb distract you a bit.

You roam your eyes around his face – noting the scar on his cheek which story you want to know so bad. When you trail you eyes down to his lips, you see the mole under it. You don’t think you were being subtle at all – it’s quite obvious that you’re just staring.

And you know Jungkook notices.

“Jungkook,” you breathed out, calling him about nothing in particular.

His only response is a small, gentle hum.

A beat of silence, and you feel Jungkook’s face leaning closer to yours.

You don’t make a move away from him, just let your legs stay where they are, letting Jungkook slowly pull you to him. You can tell his movements are slower than usual – like he’s testing the waters, searching for something in your eyes, quietly asking if it’s okay – if what he’s about to do is okay.

It makes your heart hammer against your chest – his breathing becoming more audible in your own ears. His mouth reeks of the soju you both drank earlier, but you’ve always liked the smell of it, especially when it comes with a man as breathtaking as him.

You feel the tip of his nose touching yours, your chest pressing against his own, his hand travelling from your waist to the back of your head.

When Jungkook leans down to close the gap, you swerve your face just in time to have his lips press against your hair instead.

“I’m sleepy.” You say quietly, a nervous lilt to your voice. You duck your head a little lower, laying your face on his chest and bury it with his scent.

You can feel Jungkook freeze in his position, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. You hope he doesn’t feel the way your heart goes abnormal in your chest with such proximity – but right now, all you want to do is hide. Hide your face away from him because if he sees you, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.

He’ll know exactly the effect he has on you.

It takes a few seconds of silence before Jungkook comes back to you.

“Hm,” He hums, and you feel his hand letting go of your wrist to wrap around your waist, squeezing for a brief moment. Jungkook’s other hand cradles your head to his chest, swiping his hand against your hair in a repeated manner, and with the way he rests his chin on the crown of your head, you feel comfort in the whole thing. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah…” you trail off, and you can just feel your lids getting heavier at the remark.

“Yeah?”

“Hm.”

“I’ll take the couch. Do you want to shower first?” You shake your head against his chest. You feel it vibrating when he chuckles. “Okay.”

“My body feels like jelly.” You say, and you feel that to be actually true.

“Is that code for “carry me to your bed, Jungkook”?”

You’re thankful your face is buried in his chest as you smile widely.

“Do you want it to be?”

“I don’t mind.”

You nod. “Good. I think I’ll get alcohol poisoning tomorrow.”

You feel Jungkook lifting his chin off your head as he sounds scold-y when he says, “Don’t joke like that.”

You giggle against his chest.

“Carry me before I pass out.”

Jungkook snorts. “Ohh. Bossy.”

“It’s my last day here. I deserve some slack.” You grumble.

“Fine.”

TAGLIST: @mortal-body-timelesssoul @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lachimolalajeon @miniesjams32 @parkinglot-nights @peterstarkchrishiddleston @aznstoner @chuberry22 @tae-hibiscus @jungkooksmytype

note: pls check your account settings if you are enabling ur profile to be tagged.

#fic: nb #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader

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jeonstudios · 24 days ago

Text

fontana di trevi | 01

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 7.6k

warnings: blood, needles, talking about how you euthanize cows and such? suicidal thoughts (not graphic or elaborated? very straightforward?)

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 1/2

It’s a freezing cold December night when you step into the dark alleyway, your thighs having gone numb under your jeans a while ago. The sun set hours ago, and the only light present is that of a few scattered streetlights.

Your pulse quickens as you take another cautious step. Something moves further in, where the light barely reaches, and since there’s no snow yet, you hear the slight crunch of frozen fall leaves under… footsteps. From the dark, a tall figure approaches slowly in a way that would have anyone’s blood chilling.

“I have a proposition,” you state, trying to stand somewhat tall.

"A proposition?” a low voice inquires, and you have to tilt your head up to look at the face that emerges from the shadows. “I’ll fuck you, but I’m not turning you for sex.”

“That’s not what—I don’t want sex or to be turned.”

He directs his full attention to you, and in turn, you get a better glimpse of his features. He looks like a man; incredibly handsome with jet black hair, eyebrows, and eyes, but his skin is paler than anything you’ve seen, and there’s the tiniest smudge of something red tinting the corner of his mouth. Though his eyebrow is raised, he doesn’t look very entertained.

“You can have my blood. All of it, if you just take it quickly.”

He lifts his hand to slowly wipe the red from his face. The outfit he wears—a black leather jacket and black pants—looks human but is definitely too cold to wear this time of year.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t simply take it if I wanted to? Why would I need your permission?”

“I’m just saying. Take it if you want it?”

He looks at you, seemingly at least a little intrigued by the odd human in front of him. You definitely understand that most people run the other way at the sight of this big, intimidating being.

“You realize ‘all of it’ means you’ll be dead, right?”

You nod. “Do we have a deal?”

“Regardless of if I wanted to or not, I literally just… ate, so I physically can’t. Not for another week or so.”

You feel your shoulders drop slightly, and you blink, trying to improvise a plan.

“Okay, well… Do you want to meet here in a week, then?”

At that, he tilts his head. “You want to die here, in a dirty alleyway?”

“I don’t care. So yes or no?”

“If you want me to do this, give me something in return first, okay?”

You look at him in confusion. “You’re getting my blood?”

“Who's to say your blood is even good?”

Trying not to let his words discourage you, you look around, thinking. Maybe you should’ve played harder to get? At least in the sense of giving him a hunt? You don’t want to waste any time, but he might not be your best option.

“Fine, do you know if there are other vampires around here? How do I find them?”

It took you three weeks to even find this one, and maybe it was more luck than anything, so setting off on another search doesn’t sound too exciting. These creatures really do live in the shadows.

“No, listen. Whether your blood is delicious or not, it would certainly be helpful to have it. But…”

“But?”

“Let me stock up on it first. Meet me at my place and let me take some every week for two months and then I’ll take the rest.”

You look around again, unsure if you should just try to find someone else. Two months is not ideal; it’s too long, and you’re sure you could manage to find someone else in the meantime.

The vampire senses your hesitation and takes a step closer.

“You want it to be quick, which means you’re scared of pain. People around here, my kind, tend to drag it out. Pain and fear equal adrenalin, which gives the blood a certain… flavor that some enjoy. Agree to my compromise, and I’ll make it quick and practically painless.”

He gives you the smallest of smiles, barely a hint of one, but it feels wicked and makes a cold shiver run down your spine. You know he’s not trustworthy, but he’s getting a lot out of the deal, and you have nothing to lose, really.

“Okay. What’s the address?”

In the middle of the day a week later, you find yourself in front of a big two-story house. It’s nice, looks pretty expensive but… like a regular house? It’s painted white and definitely not blood-red or even black. Aligning more with your expectations is how the house is partially obscured from the road by huge, towering spruces and how it seems to lie just a little bit further from the neighboring houses. There’s a thin layer of snow on the ground now, but you’re not sure whether it’ll stick.

After confirming that no, there is no door bell, you lift your fist to knock on the door. Vampires have crazy good hearing anyway, right? You’d assume so, given the fact that they’re always portrayed as super fast, super strong, super… attractive, and with super hearing, super vision, just… super all around. The mythical creatures don’t officially exist to the world, but in your little town, everyone knows they do. And they do. You found one. So if they drink blood and are super attractive—at least this one—it’s not too weird to assume there’s more truth to their pop-culture portrayal.

You can see how the town’s vampire believers and enthusiasts shake their heads in disappointment at your relative indifference, but truth be told, you’d probably be more curious about the vampire whose home you’re about to step into if the situation was different. Or maybe you’d have some self-preservation and run the other way?

The door opens almost soundlessly, and when you look up, you meet those black, bottomless eyes. It really is his color, you think, your gaze drawn to the short-sleeve, black button-down he’s wearing, the top three buttons or so left undone. With it, he’s wearing black pants on the looser side. He looks incredibly handsome, and very effortlessly so. His hair is shiny and looks soft, and like it naturally falls into that slight side-part.

“Are you gonna come in or just stand there and ogle me?” He isn’t smiling teasingly; he just looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry.”

He turns to retreat back into the house, and you’re left to enter through the open door. There are no lights on inside, and when you close the door behind you, cutting off a majority of the daylight, you start to feel like you’re truly inside a vampire’s home. Still, it’s light enough for you to follow said vampire’s back after hastily removing your coat and folding it to leave over the boots you step out of. Since you assumed he needs access to the veins in your arms, you picked out a gray t-shirt and a black zip-up hoodie that’s a little too big on you, paired with jeans. Nothing fancy—you’re not there to impress him.

With quickened steps, you catch up to him as he wordlessly leads the way into his kitchen, a place you doubt he uses much. Vampires don’t actually eat, do they? Either way, the room is clean and feels almost... sterile, despite the walnut cupboards and dark gray countertops.

On the short end of a wide, matching walnut dining table, a bunch of supplies are laid out. He gestures to one of the two chairs positioned around the corner of the table, but as you sit down, he turns to leave.

“Uhm, I don’t know how to do this,” you admit, pulling the zipper of your hoodie down and slipping one arm out. “I mean, I’m sure it can’t be that complicated in… theory, but I don’t think I can do it on myself.”

“I’m just gonna wash my hands,” he explains, and there seems to be a very slight trace of emotion in his voice and on his face that you interpret as amusement. He thinks you're dumb.

Oh. Well… does it really matter if his hands are squeaky clean or not?

Water hits the sink with a familiar sound as you focus on the table, inspecting the supplies. There’s a needle with a tube attached to it, a tourniquet, some syringes, antiseptic wipes, and a few empty blood bags. A voice in your head wonders if maybe he changed his mind and will simply take everything at this moment because those bags look pretty big, and you’re not sure you can fill them and still walk out of this place.

The water stops, and you sit pretty and wait until he positions the other chair in front of you, a little to the side. You’ve never been a fan of needles or having your blood drawn, so you focus your eyes the other way, to a specific part of his kitchen window and the overcast outside. You hear the sound of paper and plastic ripping, and you feel his cold fingers place and tighten the tourniquet around your upper arm and feel for your veins before he wipes the area clean.

“Scared of needles?” he teases arrogantly, and you see how he reaches for the sharp object on the table.

“Bodily reaction. I can’t help it,” you explain before holding your breath and waiting for the poke.

It comes soon after; an uncomfortable but not too painful prick. With one hand, he moves some things around on the table, and you try to keep as still as possible, loathing the feeling of a needle jolting around in your vein.

“You’re not curious as to why I know how to do this stuff? Or worried that I don’t?” he wonders, releasing the tourniquet and seemingly fastening the needle to your skin with some tape.

“No. I guess it doesn’t surprise me; blood and vampires seem to go hand in hand.”

He surprises you by letting out a quiet chuckle before placing a red stress ball in your hand. “Squeeze this. I’ll be back to change the bag in a few minutes.”

Nodding, you watch him rise from his chair and leave the room.

Left to your own devices and with the filling blood bag taped to the chair’s armrest by its thin tube, you close your eyes.

The house is entirely silent, and you have no idea where the vampire went. After he moved the stuff around on the table, you were able to count exactly three blood bags with a printed 450 ml on them. That adds up to somewhere between one and one and half liters and around 30% of your blood volume if you’ve calculated correctly. According to your brief research, a human doesn’t typically survive losing more than 40% of their blood unless given emergency medical attention. You probably won’t feel too great after today, but you most likely won’t die. You think.

Slowly, the minutes start to tick by, but you feel okay so far. You’ve got a good rhythm going for the stress ball, squeezing, holding, releasing. Squeezing, holding, releasing. The silence has your mind wandering.

“You can stop for a bit.”

The vampire’s sudden voice has your eyes flying open. He hadn’t made a single sound, returning to the kitchen. Catching your breath, you nod, keeping the ball still in your hand. You don’t look at the needle in your arm, but you see the bag full of dark red that the vampire sits down and trades for an empty one, attaching the tubes before he fastens them in the same way to the armrest.

When he’s done, he lifts his hand, and you spot one of his fingertips covered in red. For a split second, he observes it, and then he puts the finger to his tongue. At first, it’s weird to see, and you almost want to tell him that it’s not hygienic to taste other people’s blood. That is before you remember that other people’s blood is what sustains him.

He looks to be assessing something, and suddenly, you’re worried he might not like it.

“B positive," he focuses on you, but you give him a slight, confused shrug because you have no idea what blood type you are or what it means in this context.

“Is that… okay?”

“It’s… meh. Not the most common but also not the rarest. Most of my kind prefer A or even AB, though.”

“Oh."

Of course, your blood is substandard. You nod toward the filled bag on the table. “Will you have any use for this then?”

Truly, it would be just your luck to not even have the scary creatures, who roam the night in search of victims to drain, want your blood.

“Yeah. Doesn’t matter. I can always use it as a backup if I don’t get the chance to feed in time. Squeeze.”

Per his order, you resume squeezing. The rest of the process goes relatively smoothly, although you’ve started feeling a lot… weaker by the time the second bag is full and the vampire is about to switch it for the third.

There’s a lot about blood and the human body that you don’t know, and you’re silently wondering what the recovery rate is and if you can really give him this much every week. Does he plan on taking less next time or has he not taken it into consideration?

“Why do you want to die?”

You blink at his bluntness, looking at his uncaring face. He obviously doesn’t care to hear the longer story, and you don’t care to tell it, so you settle for a shorter, more condensed version.

“There’s something wrong with me. I don’t belong here.”

“Didn’t taste like it.”

“Maybe not physically.”

He doesn’t dig further, but when your blood starts trickling into the third bag, the vampire stays seated. You still close your eyes, afraid that you’ll stare at his face otherwise, and he didn’t particularly seem to like that.

You’re not sure if it’s just the blood loss or a combination of having slept poorly for the last few weeks and being in a calm, silent environment, but you’re feeling tired. Really tired. And cold.

“Squeeze harder,” his voice instructs, void of emotion. You do your best to follow his instructions, squeezing the ball tighter even though it’s getting difficult.

“We’re done.”

You open your eyes, finding the vampire much closer than before and his fingers swiftly removing the needle from your arm.

“Okay, so… uh…” you start, finding it hard to choose words or even think of what you want to convey in the first place. “Do I come back… same time… next week?”

“No. Make it two weeks.”

You look at him, confusion written across your features, but it’s hard to focus your eyes on his face. It’s blurry, and there are dark spots infiltrating your vision.

“I took as much as I could, and while you won’t have time to replenish everything in two weeks either, I’ll at least get more out of you than in just one week.”

He smiles, and if you had the energy and maybe (mostly) the common sense, you’d be scared by the way he truly looks so wicked.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

The vampire takes the stress ball from you and rises from the chair with the used supplies in his hands. You grip the armrests best you can, but your right hand slips, and you stumble a little, trying to stand. It’s so incredibly cold, and you feel dizzy, nauseous, and weak, putting your hoodie back on properly.

Very quietly, you hear him move around the kitchen, and while he hasn’t explicitly told you to leave, you’re very much assuming he wants nothing else. So on unsteady legs, you make your way back to the front door, where you grab your coat to haphazardly put it on, and you step into your boots, unable to bend down to tie them properly.

You’re able to make it to your old but trustworthy car that you parked on the street, but when you sit down in the driver’s seat and close the door behind you, you realize that you definitely can’t drive as it’s proving more and more difficult to even keep your eyes open. You can’t walk home, you have no one to come pick you up, and even if there probably is a bus stop somewhere around here, you don’t think you’d make it there.

So with your last burst of energy, you pull the lever under the seat to push it back a little, leaving your boots on the floor as you bring your feet and knees up. Your coat finds a new purpose as a makeshift blanket, and you cover as much of your body as you can with it. Fully knowing that as you close your eyes, you might never open them again, you don’t care that much. Dying is what you want, anyway.

Surprisingly, you do open your eyes again. It’s dark when you do, and it’s so, so cold. Your heart is beating hard as it tries to circulate blood that just isn’t there anymore, and it’s with a low groan that you move, trying to reach for the phone in the pocket of your coat.

It’s seven p.m.. You met with the vampire at two p.m., and the visit took less than an hour, which means that you got into your car at maybe a bit before three, and so you’ve been passed out for four hours. It takes you a while to come to properly, and even when you do, you feel weak, groggy, and stiff. Ideally, you shouldn’t drive, but you have no other means of getting home, so you decide on a route consisting of smaller roads with lower speed limits and less traffic.

It’s no wonder you feel like you’re on death’s doorstep because when you do some further Googling on blood donation and blood volumes at home, you calculate exactly how much someone of your size would have. And you find that the vampire took 38% of that.

Three weeks later, you’re knocking on his door again. He opens it, an eyebrow raised and looking even more unimpressed than last time.

“I’m sorry I didn’t show last week, but I was sick,” you inform, hoping he’ll accept your apology. “Didn’t think you would’ve wanted to see… that.”

“You’re right.”

That’s all he says before he turns, leaving the door open for you just like last time. Well, you take that as a sign that you’re forgiven, and so you follow him inside.

Trying to keep up with him, you’re feeling even smaller and weaker around the tall vampire than before, and truth be told, you are. Because according to those Google searches, while it takes the body only approximately 24-48 hours to replace the blood plasma, it takes four to six weeks to replenish the red blood cells and recover fully. And that’s from having one bag of 450ml donated; you left three and it’s only been three weeks since. Essentially, the vampire is taking your blood a lot faster than you can produce it.

Like last time, you sit down on the same chair in his kitchen, but since he wasn’t expecting you, he has to retrieve the supplies from elsewhere. You remain quiet while he organizes everything, stealing a few glances at him in the meantime. This time, he’s wearing a black t-shirt and black shorts, and you’re amazed at just how… ordinary he looks. In the best way possible, of course.

Without being too tight, the shirt does a very good job at showing off his physique: it hangs wonderfully off his shoulders and dips slightly between his pecs. It exposes the prominent veins stretching across both his arms and hands, and you wonder if vampires also ‘live’ in the way that he has a heart that pumps blood around his body. Or if he’s really ‘dead’ or ‘undead’ like some media describe them?

“What?” he questions, having caught you staring.

“You look very human,” you say quietly. “Like a college guy.”

An athletic college guy. The one who’s just a little too handsome to be exact.

The trace of amusement that flashes across his face is so faint that you’re not sure you didn’t simply imagine it. He doesn’t respond to your observation, only sitting down and reaching for your arm. His large hands feel a little warmer against your skin than you remember them doing last time, and you turn your head when he prepares the needle. There’s a pinch and then the immediate relief when he loosens the tourniquet.

“Here,” the red stress ball is placed into your hand again. Looking down briefly, you watch your own hand squeeze it, but the red fluid flowing through the transparent tube is too off-putting, and so you close your eyes again.

A minute or so passes while you keep squeezing the ball to some sort of rhythm tied to your breaths. It won’t be long. Soon, everything will be over.

Somewhere, you lose track of time, and to regain some sense of reality, you flutter your eyelids open. Only to see the vampire stare coldly at you. You freeze.

“I thought you left,” you admit, the surprise clear in your voice.

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” he explains, face still stoic.

You look at him dumbly. “No offense, but why? The point is to kill me, anyway?”

“No, it’s to take as much as possible,” he corrects you. “To a reasonable extent. And then kill you. Here, let me change the bag.”

You close your eyes once more as he switches the full bag to a new, empty one. The dizziness comes a lot quicker than it did three weeks ago, but then again, you’ve been feeling more or less weak and faint ever since that first donation.

“Okay, we’re done.”

You look at him, surprised. “Already? But you didn’t even fill the second bag fully?”

“I took too much last time, and like I said, I want to get as much out of you as possible.”

For the first time, you think you see a hint of a discreet fang when he gives you a blood-chilling smile.

The process of removing everything is quick, and before you know it, you’re putting your feet into your boots again. You feel faint, like your knees might buckle under you any second, but you don’t feel weak to the point of passing out for hours in your car; you do that when you’re home in bed instead.

Suffering from what you gather is immense anemia, you don’t have the energy to really do anything between your visits to the vampire besides lie on the couch and watch TV. You quit your retail job the Monday after finding him in that alleyway, confident (and correctly so) that you wouldn’t be able to handle really any job at all.

Even rotting away on the couch with your eyes glued to the screen, you can barely understand what the shows are about. Your brain struggles to place the people and remember the plot lines, and you find yourself almost daydreaming instead. Though it’s mostly just flashing images of the vampire whose name you still don’t know.

If your heart wasn’t already so strained, it would beat harder for him in some kind of fear-filled attraction. He’s absolutely gorgeous—and there’s definitely something almost drawing you to him—but he’s also so, so intimidating. If the end goal wasn’t to die, you’d for sure be running for the hills and looking over your shoulder late at night.

Next time, there’s a slight smile pulling on the vampire’s lips when he opens the door.

“Still alive?”

You chuckle quietly, looking down at your boots. “Unfortunately.”

Taking off your coat reveals another simple outfit with no other purpose than granting the vampire access to your arms while keeping your freezing body warm. This time, it’s a thick, brown cardigan over a t-shirt, paired with somewhat baggy jeans.

The contrast between your clothes is almost funny. Even indoors, you’d be freezing in the half-open thin, white dress shirt he wears messily tucked into black, also thin-looking slacks. The gap in his shirt makes you want to reach out and touch his pale chest, but of course, you keep your hands to yourself.

Once again, you follow him inside, and while you don’t need him to, he guides you to the same spot in his kitchen where the stuff is all laid out.

Sitting down, you slip your arm out of the cardigan and place it on the armrest. The vampire washes his hands and then comes to sit down in front of you, reaching for the tourniquet to position it around your bicep. With the elastic band tightened, he rips open an antiseptic wipe to clean the inside of your elbow, and then, he prepares the needle like always.

You look away, holding your breath until the pinch comes and for a few seconds after.

“The whole thing about vampires losing control around blood… I take it that’s just storytelling?”

“Depends,” he answers, and despite not looking at him, you just know he’s got one eyebrow raised and a hint of a cocky smile on his lips. “If we’re hungry and someone happens to bleed around us, yeah, it can be more… tempting. Also depends on what sort of blood we prefer.”

“And you don’t like mine,” you state, your foggy brain concluding it the reason he seems to not care about the vulnerable blood right in front of him.

He laughs this time, a really nice sound that has your strained heart almost skipping an important beat. “I changed my weekly feeding to Thursdays, so I’m still quite full. And your blood isn’t vile, it’s just not what I personally go crazy for.”

“Oh,” you let out, looking at him before something dawns on you. “Wait. You eat once a week only? How much do you eat then? Or… drink?”

He nods toward the bag he just secured to your arm. “Someone of my size typically only needs about two of these a week to survive and not maniacally hunt and kill, but to really thrive? Between two and three liters, so four to six bags. I usually go hunting Friday or Saturday night when most bars and pubs are full. It’s surprisingly easy to find a few drunks stumbling around who won’t even realize what happened the day after.”

“So you don’t… kill?”

“Not if we can help it. There’s been… an increase in vampires around here, and if people drop dead? No, it’s less suspicious and only a little more work to find a few victims instead of draining one dry.”

“Makes sense.”

“Mhm. I typically don’t have to beg women to come with me, either.”

Something ice cold travels through your body at that last sentence. You wonder whose blood was on his lips that night when you found him.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this, though? You seem like you’d tell me to mind my own business.”

Even more, you can’t believe you asked.

He smiles. “I don’t know. Like I said, people will occasionally find out what I am, find me fascinating, and ask a thousand questions. I’ve always thought it to be incredibly annoying, and I’m not really supposed to tell them anything even if I wanted to—which I don’t—but it’s been… odd, not being questioned by you. At all. Almost boring, like I’m not interesting to you.”

His answer surprises you, and for a moment, you imagine teenage you, not bubbly per se but at least a bit more naive than the current version. Would she be the type to annoy him? You don’t think so.

“Objectively, you are interesting, but I can’t believe how brave people are? If things were different, I wouldn’t have gone out looking for a vampire in the first place. And if I somehow stumbled upon you, I would’ve run the other way because you’d terrify me.”

Slowly, he smirks at your honesty.

“I scare you?”

You’d be lying if you claimed the cold, calculating aura around him didn’t.

You’re not sure if he has any super powers like in the movies, but honestly, he wouldn’t need to be able to lift a bus to kill you. The scariest thing about him isn’t how he could end your life in a hundred different ways either way, it’s how he could drag it out and extend your suffering before doing so. Of course, your body and instincts find him scary, but in a way, your mind… doesn’t? Then again, you’re here because your mind wants him to kill you.

“I don’t know.”

“Hm,” is all he says, his eyes falling to the blood bag. “I have to change it. Hold on.”

“Okay,” you mumble, finding it hard to concentrate. Your heart beats so hard it hurts, but at the same time, your breathing is slowing down. Closing your eyes, you feel him move stuff around.

“How are you feeling?” he suddenly asks, but it doesn’t sound like he cares too much.

“Honestly? Terrible,” you admit, keeping your eyes closed.

You keep still when you feel his hands on your arm, but then you hear a little… rip.

“Fuck.”

Curiously, you open your tired eyes, seeing the vampire hold the empty bag up to inspect it.

“This was the last one I had. This brand is fucking terrible quality; how do you make blood bags so weak they rip?”

“You don’t have anything else to collect it in?”

He sighs defeatedly, “No, it needs to be in these kinds of bags so I can store and freeze it properly.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll have to stock up on them and maybe take more next time.”

You nod slowly and understandingly. That will probably be the last time, then.

About a week and a half later, you find yourself on a bench downtown, your hands in the pockets of your coat to keep them warm. It’s Saturday, and on the other side of the street, a few people are standing in line to be let inside your town’s best version of a nightclub. You’re not certain what exactly brought you here, and you’re sure that if the happy, club-dressed people took the time to observe their surroundings, they’d notice you staring and look at you weirdly in turn.

“Hello?”

Registering the almost rude-sounding voice, you blink as you turn your head. It’s a guy.

“Huh?”

His face looks skeptic, and he’s got his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He’s not wearing a jacket or coat of any kind over his white t-shirt, so you gather he’s in the middle of a night out. Probably left a bar for a smoke and spotted you.

“I asked you what your name is? Like three times?”

He’s good looking with black hair and dark eyes, but the tone of his voice is very unattractive, and you have no interest in him whatsoever, knowing he isn’t just looking to be your friend.

“Oh. Uh…”

You don’t say it. It’s not that you don’t remember your name or that you’re making a conscious effort to deny him the information, but it’s like your thoughts are at a standstill.

“Beat it.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. His lips didn’t move.

“And who are you?” he asks, irritation dripping from his words, and this time, his lips are moving. However, his eyes are not on you but on something behind you.

Just as you’re about to turn around, the man in front of you leaves. His steps are quick, his mission abandoned.

“What are you doing here?”

Of course. It clicks the moment the vampire comes into view, and you’re surprised you didn’t immediately recognize his deep voice. He’s wearing that same leather jacket and some black pants, an outfit still very much inappropriate for winter. Though, something about him feels… wilder, almost a little uncontained? You can’t put your finger on what exactly.

“Uh, people-watching,” you inform as he rounds the bench, sitting down next to you.

Because he’s beautiful like no other, you glance discreetly at his face. He’s so masculine, but in certain lights, you glimpse something softer. You particularly like his nose and its rounded tip. It gives him such an attractive profile, you think, gaze traveling over his features and lingering on his dark eyelashes.

“Why? Isn’t it cold as hell for you?”

“Uhm, I don’t know? And I guess?”

From looking straight ahead, he turns his head, redirecting his full attention to you. The light from the closest street lamp reflects in his dark eyes.

“Is there any truth to that whole ‘vampires are designed to lure humans in’ thing?”

He grins. “I lure you in?”

“You’re more intimidating than you are attractive, actually,” you admit earnestly, wincing a little on the inside at how it came out a bit like an insult. He’s definitely attractive, and maybe the fact that he is so attractive is part of why he’s also so intimidating. “I’m just wondering what you looked like before.”

“I’ve always looked like this,” he explains casually, once again peering out over the cold, dark street. “Vampirism doesn’t change anything besides, like, skin impurities and conditions. I would’ve shown you a picture, but there were no cameras around when I was human,” he smiles cheekily.

“Anyway, you should go home. It’s really cold and not really safe at this time either,” he encourages.

You nod, realizing that he wants to protect his backup supply. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’ll see you next week.”

“Mhm.”

You expect him to get up and leave, confused when five seconds pass and he hasn’t moved. The feeling seems to be mutual because he turns his head to look at you again.

“So, are you leaving or not?”

“I am.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You look away, clearing your throat a bit awkwardly and realizing that you might just have to tell him, since he doesn’t seem to be leaving before you. “I don’t think I… can. I walked here, but I think I overestimated myself.”

The vampire looks you over briefly, probably just to be sure, but you both know that your main health concerns aren’t visible.

“Where do you live?”

“Oh, not that far. Like less than a ten minute walk, but I…”

“What’s your address?”

“124 Conch Street.”

“Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand up.”

Puzzled, you follow his instructions and slowly rise to your feet. Though you’ve been sitting stranded on the bench for almost two hours, the dizziness returns the moment you stand.

But the vampire isn’t satisfied. “Get up on the bench and undo your coat up to your waist.”

This time, you give him a skeptic look.

“Just do as I say,” he holds his hand out for you.

Slowly and still confused, you take it, and with his aid, you step up onto the bench.

To your surprise, he lets go, and before you know it, he’s unzipped your coat from the bottom up to your waist, positioned himself in front of you, and grabbed your thighs. Instinctively, you place your arms around his neck as he hoists you onto his back and starts walking.

“What are you doing?” you breathe quietly.

“Taking you home in an inconspicuous way. It looks like we’re a couple, does it not?”

“Definitely an odd and unexpected couple if so, but I guess?”

“You’re a pretty girl, you know?”

Your lungs hold your breath for an extra second before slowly releasing it, and then you hum, but it’s only to actually provide him with an answer. You definitely don’t think you’re anywhere near pretty enough for someone like him. He doesn’t call you out on your vague answer.

You’re not the most common sight, couple or not, and people still watch you as you pass them. Unsure as to how to meet their curious gazes, you don’t; turning your head forward instead. When you’re so close, you inevitably catch his scent, only to find that he doesn’t smell like a whole lot. There are traces of soap, laundry detergent, and maybe a hint of cologne, but not much else. No lingering smell of sweat or anything like that.

He walks you through the city and past the alleyway where you first found him. It’s quiet, except for the muted sound of his footsteps as well as those of a man a bit ahead, evidently hurrying to get home and away from the cold.

“Are there more vampires here?” you wonder, looking around the silent street and thinking it might not be as empty as it seems.

“Yes,” he confirms casually.

It has your brain working, and the surroundings reminding you of why you’re with him in the first place.

“How are you going to kill me?”

If he’s caught off guard by your straightforward question, he does a good job of not showing it.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. But I’d rather not bleed out,” you say, body aching at the mere thought. Although you’re certain there are much worse ways to go, you really don’t like the feeling of severe blood loss.

“It’s the easiest way though,” he explains. “It’s not as easy to drain a body without a heartbeat to move the blood around.”

“Are you familiar with livestock?” you ask, thinking back to what your three-year-older cousin once told you as you biked past a field of cows one summer when you were ten. “You can kill the animal and then ‘deblood’ them by hanging the body upside down and cutting their throat. The blood will drain easily. Do you have a bathtub?”

“You’re… a person though, still,” he says, and though he doesn’t falter in his steps, you can tell your words don’t sit quite right with him. “There’s no dignity in an ending like that. And don’t you care what happens to your body?”

To say you’re surprised is an understatement. You thought vampires were all bloodthirsty monsters, only biding their time until they can rip someone new apart. The messier, the better. The vampire, who’s carrying you on his back, made no effort to appear nice either. At least not at first. Now, you don’t even know.

You shrug slightly. You’re not a spiritual person, and you’ve never believed in something like an afterlife. “It’s just meat and bones. I won’t be here anymore, and no one’s going to be looking for me, anyway. There’s no use in keeping things ‘pretty.’”

He doesn’t say anything in turn, and you wonder how much about you he knows. How much about your life he realizes.

The vampire’s smooth movement lulls you further into relaxation, and you lean your head partly against your own arm, partly against him. He doesn’t say anything.

Way sooner than if you would’ve walked with your own two legs—if you would’ve made it home at all—he puts you down in front of your apartment complex. You search your pockets, locating your keys in the left one.

“Going home now? Since you can’t enter without permission,” you joke tiredly, unlocking the front entrance with the key fob.

The vampire raises his eyebrows. “I might as well make sure you don’t somehow trip and spill all my blood on the way to your apartment,” he smirks, grabbing the door and opening it wide without breaking eye contact. “And you shouldn’t believe everything you see or read.”

The smile he’s wearing as he makes a show out of stepping inside the building is another chilling one. You can’t say that you expected him to hit an invisible wall or anything, but for some reason, it would’ve almost felt… nice if that were the case. Considering your situation, you’re not sure why.

The elevator is empty and waiting for you, and after getting inside, you press the button for floor two, the vampire coming to stand beside you.

“Is there anything that is true regarding vampires?” you ask quietly as if someone would hear you inside the elevator.

“Besides the fact that we drink blood?”

“Yeah. Are you like, immortal and stuff? Super old?”

He chuckles. “Kinda. I don’t think anything’s truly immortal, but we do have a longer life span, yes.”

“What about senses? Can you hear my heart beat right now?”

“Yes. It sounds like it’s about to burst through your chest.”

Yeah, because it’s strained to hell and back, trying to keep you alive even in the condition you’re in.

“And super speed, super strength and all that?”

“Mhm, although we’re not so fast we go blurry. Are you impressed?”

“I don’t know? What do you use it for? I can’t think of even one thing having those powers would improve in my life.”

“Tough crowd,” he chuckles, avoiding your question as he follows you out of the elevator.

You understand that being physically superior is helpful when you’re a literal predator, and yeah, maybe being able to walk a tiny bit faster to work every morning would’ve saved you some time, but what else? Oh, yeah, one time, you had to throw away a jar of pickles because you simply could not get it open. Being stronger would’ve definitely helped you then.

Reaching your door, you’re quick to unlock it and pull it open to head inside, ignoring the two envelopes lying on the floor in your hallway. The vampire stays at the door, watching as you start to remove your coat two or so steps away from him.

“Are those… bruises?”

Turning your head as you make your way to the wardrobe to put the coat away, you see the vampire looking almost worried. You look down at the skin on your arms.

“Yeah.”

“Let me look at them,” he urges, holding his hand out.

“Why? They come with anemia; why does it matter?”

“Still, I want to see. Come over here.”

Despite looking oddly insistent, he makes no effort to actually enter your apartment.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. “You really can’t come inside without an invitation, can you?”

He sighs exasperatedly. “Technically, no, I can’t step inside unless you give me permission.”

It makes you laugh a little in wonder. “Wow.”

He rolls his eyes, but you can tell it amuses him a little too.

“Listen, I’ll be fine until we meet again and if the bruises are still there, you can look at them then. I kinda don’t actually want to invite you in, is that rude of me?”

“No, it’s not. Very reasonable, actually.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you Friday?”

He nods politely and steps back. “See you.”

You watch him leave, his footsteps sounding through the hall as you bend down to pick up the envelopes you’ve been ignoring for days. They’re probably bills, and you’ll be dead soon, so who really cares if you pay them or not?

Mindlessly, you approach the door to close it, your focus on the white paper in your hands. You put your finger under the fold to rip the first envelope open, wincing when the paper cuts through your skin instead.

Holding your finger up, you inspect the damage and the little bead of red that’s forming next to the invisible cut. You look at it, furrowing your eyebrows at how you feel like something’s… missing? A moment later, you realize what it is, and your body freezes.

The footsteps have stopped.

It dawns on you, as you look at the blood, what the vampire was actually doing tonight and why he looked wilder than usual. Early Saturday night, lurking around the clubs until he found you and had to abandon his plans.

He was hunting.

Your eyes widen and your heart stops as you hear it. One footstep. Then another. And another. They’re speeding up, and soon enough running toward you.

Before you’ve had a chance to shut the door, it flies wide open. Panicked, you move farther into the apartment, but you fall backward and by pure instinct, crawl back as quickly as you can.

Despite claiming that he couldn’t enter without your permission, the vampire falls to his knees, then all fours, to reach you. You’ve never seen anything as scary as the bloodthirsty creature grasping the air, trying to get you. He moves so quickly, and his hand is just about to grab your foot when it’s like… he’s held back by something.

You're breathing heavily, trying to understand what’s happening. Why doesn’t he just move another three centimeters? He licks his lips in frustration, exposing fangs that are definitely longer than you remember. Meeting his eyes, they’re cold like never before, and he exhales angrily. He’s still reaching for you, and frozen in your spot, you look over at him, briefly wondering if his feet got stuck or something when it hits you.

He can’t step inside.

You sit there, your feet mere centimeters from his grasping hand when there’s a sound down the hall, and in a split second, the vampire seems to snap out of it. He looks at you, appearing to realize what he’s doing and somehow gaining control over himself. Looking around, he gets up, and he leaves. Quickly and without a word.

Wide-eyed and with your heart beating painfully, you remain on the floor, wondering what the hell just happened. Even when his footsteps are long gone, you’re too afraid to get up and close the door, worried that he’ll return and be able to reach you.

You’d like a very serious word with whoever established the ‘no entering without permission’ rule but also decided that the vampires could cheat it by keeping their feet outside and crawling inside.

You sleep a little uneasy the following nights, thinking a lot. Of course, your thoughts are mostly occupied by those cold, black eyes, thirsty for your blood.

<previous | next> happy halloween <3<3

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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months ago

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At ten years old, Eddie’s mama gets a raise at work just in time for Christmas. This is the same year Wayne works enough to set aside almost $200 for Eddie’s Christmas presents.

Eddie doesn’t know this, and he’s a kid who knows better than to expect more than a few things in his stocking and one or two “bigger gifts” -usually books or tapes- so it’s a surprise when his stocking is overflowing and there’s a huge box under the tree Christmas morning.

Even more surprising is that it’s labeled from Santa, and Eddie hasn’t believed in Santa for nearly three years despite everyone in his classes still believing. He bounces on his feet while he waits for Wayne to get his coffee, for his mama to finish making their special hot chocolate.

The year he gets his first guitar is also the year he finds out his mama can sing like a rock star.

It’s the year he finds out Wayne used to play bluegrass at a bar back home and probably could’ve made it big if he was willing to leave his sister.

It’s the year Eddie finds out he can play by ear and uses it to his advantage to learn all his favorite songs as soon as he figures out the chords.

And for years, he is quick to pull out his acoustic to learn something new, even when he manages to buy his electric with money from helping fix cars at the shop where his uncle’s friend works.

After he saves Hawkins, and his hands stop shaking enough for him to play, he asks Steve to bring his acoustic to the hospital so he can entertain himself. Steve shares a look with Wayne, then his mama.

“It, uh, didn’t survive…everything.”

Nothing broke his heart quite like hearing that.

He pretends it’s okay though, doesn’t want his mama and Wayne to feel worse than they already did about everything.

He tables his emotions until he’s alone that night, shortly after dinner when everyone goes home to get some rest before the next day of volunteering, and cleaning, and visiting.

He’s woken up in the middle of the night by the door opening, and even though the person coming in is trying to be quiet, the door creaks from the building settling funny during the “earthquake.”

“Steve?”

Steve turns and even in the dark, Eddie can see his blush.

He’s holding something.

Something big and guitar shaped.

“What have you done?”

Steve walks over to him and gently sets the guitar case in his lap.

Eddie opens it and sees a gently used acoustic with Eddie’s name now engraved on the side.

“Steve.”

“You can have nice things. You should have nice things. We don’t have many options right now, but at least you won’t get rusty.”

Eddie cried.

Steve held him.

And after Steve wiped his tears away and kissed his forehead—which was something they’d be talking about as soon as Eddie could focus on something other than the guitar in his lap— he played slower songs, songs that even Steve could recognize, until a nurse realized Steve was here past visiting hours and kicked him out.

When his mama saw it the next morning propped by his bed, she smiled knowingly.

“I see the boy followed through.”

“What?”

“He asked me all kinds of questions about guitars and what your old one looked like and if a used one would be okay. Don’t know how he found one so quick.”

“He’s pretty determined when he sets his mind to something.”

“I think he’s set his mind on you, baby.”

Eddie thought maybe she was right.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #wayne munson #mama Munson #headcanon #stranger things

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rooksunday · 6 months ago

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when the coruscant guard toured their new barracks, they immediately clocked a problem.

“where are the rest of the bunks?” stone asked, looking between his datapad of assignments, and the last of the dozen bunkrooms.

even sleeping two to a pod, with four pods to a room— even hotbunking, like they were going to have to if the ‘suggested’ shift schedule was correct— there simply weren’t enough beds.

thorn grimaced. “we could give up the rec room and mess.”

“and eat where? and we need at least one room for sitting in and staring into the middle distance,” stone countered. they’d been doing a lot of the latter that day already.

with a conceding shrug, thorn turned to fox, who had been increasingly stiff and silent as the inspection had continued. stone couldn’t blame him. the building that the senate had ‘generously provided’ appeared to be held together by force of habit and spite; stone could relate, but he didn’t want to spend a war there.

“what are you thinking, sir?” stone prompted fox. the vod was always thinking something. that was his problem.

fox shook his head slightly, as if stepping out of deep water. he hummed.

“i saw something on the holonet… leave it with me,” he said.

after fox had left—marching with determination toward the broom cupboard he’d claimed as a an office—stone turned to face thorn, who was already looking at him with a particular tilt to his visor.

“on the holonet?” thorn repeated. “have you got any idea what he’s talking about? all he looks at on there is conspiracy theories and pictures of tookas.”

stone slowly shook his head. “i’m sure it’ll be fine. i’m sure it’ll be… fine.”

the guard moved in. they made it work. what other option did they have?

six weeks after landing on coruscant, fox burst into the commanders’ shared bunk with something fluorescent streaked across his armour and the stench of burnt feathers in his wake. he’d lost his helmet somewhere. stone had been cleaning his armour and threw the cloth at fox in instinctive reaction, but fox just batted it away.

“what the kark, sir?” stone spat out, heart thick in his throat.

“whuzzat?” thorn mumbled as he rose to a sit. “fox, you stink.”

“of victory,” fox countered. he stalked across the room and thrust and vial of smoking … something… to stone. “here, drink this.”

stone’s eyebrows rose. “no? sir?”

“is it tasty?” thorn asked, sleepily.

fox produced another vial from his utility belt and held that one out to thorn. he popped the cap with his thumb. smoke boiled out, glittering like dust motes. this vial was presented to thorn.

“i put honey in yours,” fox said.

of course he did.

but if fox was handing mysterious vials to thorn, he probably wasn’t planning to kill them all. probably. besides, it had been a long assignment and the war wasn’t going anywhere. the chancellor wasn’t going anywhere. stone took his vial, and saw thorn take his.

“well. cheers, i suppose,” he said, catching eyes with thorn, who rose his vial in turn.

between them, fox danced from foot to foot like he’d drank too much water before a long shift. his attention flickered between stone and thorn as they drank. his eyes were bright and he kept making and unmaking fists at his sides. he looked like a tubie waiting for their first live fire drill.

stone drank.

“huh. that doesn’t—“

then things got really kriffed up.

cody rubbed at his comm as if that would help comprehension.

“say again? some interference on my end,” he said.

the tiny blue rex rubbed the bridge of his nose. “tookas, vod. hundreds of tookas. they’re all over the senate building. they’ve herded the chancellor into his office and are blocking the hallway. no one can move them. the optics would be terrible.”

“where did they come from? can’t the coruscant guard take care of it?” cody didn’t want to assign fox to animal crowd control, but wasn’t protecting the senate his job? an invasion probably counted.

“that’s the problem. one of the tookas… it knows dadita.”

“excuse me, captain. did you say there’s a tooka that knows dadita?” general kenobi asked, leaning in to see rex. he’d been working on the other side of the office on the negotiator; sound didn’t have far to travel.

“that’s right, sir.”

“fascinating. what did it have to say for itself?”

rex shifted his weight. he looked off-camera. “it said, ‘tell cody i’m the kar— i’m still the smart one’. sir.”

silence weighed heavily in the room. cody scratched his nose and turned the message over for a second time. a third. an eleventh.

“therefore you believe that this tooka—“

“is commander fox, sir, yes,” cody said, so rex didn’t have to.

“fascinating,” kenobi said again.

“yes, sir,” rex said, his tone implying that fascination wasn’t really the problem. “and also— excuse me, sirs, one moment.” his voice became louder as he looked off-cam again, and his brow furrowed. “did someone give fox’ika a lightsaber? why is it red? what do you mean, you found it in the chancellor’s office?”

cody met his general’s eyes, and suspected his own were as wide.

blast it, fox was the smart one.

#sat here about to ask why there weren’t more animal transformation fics then remembered i have two thumbs #halfway through the third paragraph i changed tense to past and that’s how i knew it was gonna get longer #fox spent his entire time on kamino telling cody he was the smart one and cody was the pretty one #cody refuted that #because he was pretty AND smart #coruscant guard #commander fox #crackfic #rook writes things #star wars #the clone wars #corrie monster bingo

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legendaryvermin · 4 months ago

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So my home ttrpg group is between longform games right now, and I have been planning to bring a bunch of games to them this weekend as options for what we might play next. However, I have been trying to figure out how to talk about the games in a way that doesn't rely as much on me explaining the vibes to them.

I know that people have a bunch of qualitative categories for how they explain games, but I find the idea of saying things like Dark Fantasy OSR, or Lesbian Goofball PBTA less helpful when talking about how games actually play, especially when two games in the same category are like, wildly different in the way they use their frameworks.

So I invented a 6 axis, 1 to 5 star rating scale for TTRPGs that you are free to borrow when talking to groups, or whatever.

TTRPG 5 Star Rating Matrix

Width

What is the scope of this game? Is it narrowly about one thing or does it encompass many types of play? (Credit to friend of the blog @ostermad-blog for this one, they came up with it from my draft)

Weight

How much cognitive load does the player need to bear? Do rules often need to be referenced verbatim? Can those rules fit on a handout?

Wargame

Is the player expected to apply tactical acumen? Is movement tracked tightly or loosely? Does a bad build punish a player?

Writers Room

How much are players expected to make narrative choices and drive the story without the rules scaffolding them? Does this game fall apart without excellent improvisational storytellers?

(Prep)Work

Does this game require a lot of pre-planning by the facilitator? Are there intricate systems to attend to outside of table play? Can I put in the same amount of time as other players and still have everyone leave happy?

Whimsy

Expected tone of the game. Does this game have difficult thematic elements baked in? Is the core subject or role in the game high or low risk?

Here are some games I know well and how I calibrated them:

I have breakdowns of what each star rating means below the cut if you're curious. Happy Gaming!

Width

⭐ - As written, the game has basically one mode of play, or one thematic core that it meditates on. May have phases, but textural difference is minimal.

⭐⭐ - As written, there are at least two modes of play, but the scope of that play is highly thematically focused or highly dependent on using the game’s own lore. Might have only one kind of character (e.g. Mech Pilot) that it supports. Has limited tools outside of the primary mode of play.

⭐⭐⭐ - Has a variety of modes of play, but may be rigid in their execution. Might encompass multiple kinds of characters (e.g. Doctor, Lawyer, fighter) or character options. The narratives that this game tells within its setting are narrowed, a three word description tells you what kind of stories it can tell with consistency.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Loose framework, but with some kind of thematic grounding. Describing the framework in 3 words doesn’t tell you the kind of stories that the game tells (e.g. Dark Fantasy, Star Wars Romp).

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- As written, this game is designed in such a way that it doesn’t put specific limits on what sorts of stories that it is meant to tell. It might ask players to define abilities or stats for themselves. The Facilitator is going to pitch a thematic grounding on top of the rules set.

One Star Examples: For the Queen, Dialect, Honey Heist Five Star Examples: Fate Core, Savage Worlds, GURPS

Weight

⭐ - It is reasonable for a player to be able to recite the rules from memory. The game may be prompt based, or driven by a flow of rules that are read aloud as played.

⭐⭐ - Players can hold most of the most important information about the game in their heads, with a page or less of rules reference needed to play smoothly. This reference could all fit neatly on the character sheet if one is present.

⭐⭐⭐ - Everything a player needs to know about the game is visible on less than 3 sheets of reference. Players are more or less expected to know exactly how their own abilities work in precise detail, and are unlikely to make a mistake in executing them.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Players make extensive use of multiple reference sheets to keep rules moving smoothly. No external tools are needed, but players memorizing the details of all of their abilities is taxing.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- Players and facilitators will prefer to make extensive use of external tools or reference to keep play moving smoothly. Expecting a player to have the exact details of their abilities memorized is not reasonable.

One Star Examples: For the Queen, Stewpot, Mobile Frame Zero: Firebrands Five Star Examples: Dungeons and Dragons 3-5e, Lancer, Edge of the Empire

Wargame

⭐ - As written, this game does not treat combat as mechanically different from any other aspect of play, or does not include narrative violence at all.

⭐⭐ - While players may engage in combat, it is minimally different from regular play. There may be tools or abilities for players to use to conduct a fight, but the texture of those fights is thematic, not mechanical. Narrative and consequence drive the action, not hit points.

⭐⭐⭐ - As written, combat has its own set of rules. This game may have some elements of buildcrafting, but either it is difficult to build something that doesn’t work, or the player may meaningfully invest in other modes of play and still find a commensurate level of satisfaction. If combat occurs, spacing is kept in mind, but is tracked in relative terms (range bands) or highly simplified (zone based combat).

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This game has buildcrafting that is somewhat mandatory if players wish to survive a fight, but there is still a meaningful choice in choosing a non-combat role. It may use a grid or a spacing system to help players visualize the combat. Fights are driven by mechanics, not by narrative.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- To enjoy this game, players must spend time buildcrafting. If a player’s build is suboptimal, there may be significant parts of the intended experience that will either feel tedious, or that the player will not have meaningful access to. This game is played on a grid.

One Star Examples: Wanderhome, Dialect, Belonging Outside Belonging Five Star Examples: Lancer, Dungeons and Dragons 3-5e, Valor

Writers Room

⭐ - Players in this game are not expected to provide much in the way of narrative substance. Story is something that is driven by external input or tools, and players are there to imagine and react. The player need not separate the self from the character they play in any meaningful way.

⭐⭐ - The mechanics of this game drive most of the narrative, or else the narrative is set for the players by an external source or player. Players are encouraged to play optimally rather than dramatically, but do have room for expressing the identity of their character within the game’s mechanical frameworks.

⭐⭐⭐ - While the game does provide strong scaffolding to tell a story, the players present are expected to drive the story within those frameworks. The game’s systems create and resolve conflict on their own, but works best when the players are willing to choose the dramatically interesting option even if it mechanically non-optimal.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - The game provides some mechanical tools that create and resolve drama, but there is a significant expectation that the players are buying into and driving the game’s thematic concepts. Players are the ones deciding what the scenes should be and when to end them, but mechanics still help determine outcomes.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- The players are expected to drive the narrative at all times. Tools for deciding what scenes to do and when to end them are limited, optional, or vague. There is no meaningful scaffolding that creates conflict or resolution, it is incumbent on those present to manifest those things.

One Star Examples: Alice is Missing, Ribbon Drive, For the Queen Five Star Examples: Wanderhome, Systemless RP

(Prep)Work

⭐ - Facilitators are not expected to do work outside the time at the table. All rules can be read while the game is played. No memorization is needed.

⭐⭐ - This game expects the facilitator to have read the rules in advance, but the rules are so few that they can be run from a single reference sheet. At times, the facilitator must think about and potentially advance and adjust the narrative of the game behind the scenes. Prep is qualitative; answering questions about where the narrative is going to go, who will be there etc. The game can be run smoothly predominantly as improv.

⭐⭐⭐ - This game expects the facilitator to not only know the rules, but to imagine scenarios where the group must play. However, the scope of the scenario design is limited and qualitative. It takes a bit of pondering and perhaps a sketch and a few words of notes. Alternatively, the facilitator must design simple foes or track a simple background system. The work is trivial, and can be done with a bit of time before session.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - The facilitator of this game is expected to have run systems between games, or created usable maps or scenarios. Generally, games at this level have some reduced wargaming component. The facilitator might need to engage in enemy design, but the work is limited or imminently reusable. The work is non-trivial, and failing to do it will somewhat impact the quality of play.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- The facilitator of this game puts in significant time between sessions engaging in game design activities. They are expected to plan narratives, write NPCs, draw maps, run significant background systems, and design enemies and combat encounters. The work is significant outside of play, and failing to do it beforehand will result in a worse table experience.

One Star Examples: For the Queen, Alley-Oop, Lasers and Feelings Five Star Examples: Lancer, D&D 3-5e, Stars Without Number, Edge of the Empire

Whimsy

⭐ - This game’s thematic core is considered dark, taboo, or difficult, and separating the game’s mechanical features from this subject matter is next to impossible. Games with horror elements almost certainly fit within this category. These games encourage extensive pre-play safety talks.

⭐⭐ - This game is designed to look at dark subject matter, but doesn’t expect the player to spend all of their time there. Players explore difficult topics, but may get to choose what topics to explore, or when to explore them. Games with political messaging/commentary tend to fit this category. These games encourage pre-play safety talks.

⭐⭐⭐ - This game may have dark aesthetics, but doesn’t enforce them mechanically. Alternatively, there are mechanics that address difficult topics in broad strokes, but players are given leeway in the rules with how any difficult topics are approached. These games may encourage safety talks.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This game may have the option to explore dark topics, but none of the mechanics are tied to such topics. This game may have violence in its aesthetics, but players may choose to adjust the aesthetics at the table to suit their comfort. These games tend not to talk about safety in their text.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- This game is designed to focus on thematic material that is considered to be relatively safe. The game is unlikely to tread into violence or trauma without effort.

One Star Examples: Trophy Dark, Dungeon Bitches, Vampire the Masquerade Five Star Examples: Honey Heist, Princess World, Beach Episode

The system here isn't about what's good or bad, to be clear. I think there are good and bad games at every level of these categories, but when I think about what my game group is good at and comfy with, I don't think we go in for things at like the 5 end of the Writers Room scale. It's too much work, and most of them aren't pro improvisers.

Similarly, if we play another game that is a 4 or 5 on the PrepWork category, I don't have time to run it these days. So this helps me make practical choices about our next game.

#ttrpg #indie ttrpg #game design #dnd #ttrpgs #ttrpg design #d&d #lancer rpg #steal this #safety tools #five star ttrpg matrix

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writerpeach · 1 year ago

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Insatiable

IVE Yujin x m!reader

17k+ words

Part two of Overindulgent

---

Read on AFF

You shouldn’t have slept in so late.

The sun’s been up for hours now, but you’ve tried your best to ignore it piercing through the curtains. It doesn’t help that you’re all wrapped up in sheets that don’t even belong to you—sheets that still smell like last night, that smell just like Yujin. You don’t even know what time it is, and if you were to check your phone right now, you’d see at least a dozen snoozed alarms. It’s late enough that you know you’ve already missed your first class, and if you don’t leave the sheets, you’ll miss your second. But you can’t be bothered to move a muscle when you’re so comfortable, so warm, so enveloped in Yujin’s warm embrace.

Sleeping the entire day away sounds like a great option, but you can feel Yujin stirring awake as evident from the gentle kiss she plants on your cheek. You don't want to wake up. The only thing you want is to fall back asleep and ignore everything.

It’s not like you’d miss anything important, but Yujin remains persistent, with soft lips peppering your neck and shoulder with kisses that are much too tender for you to resist.

"Yujin, it’s too early," you mumble, voice hoarse and heavy with exhaustion.

“It’s almost noon. Did I wear daddy out too much?” Yujin asks, with sleep still caught in her voice, and you can hear the way she’s smiling without even looking at her beautiful face.

“Noon is still early. Let me sleep.”

Your request falls on deaf ears, because Yujin continues her assault of affection and you can feel her arms pulling you closer to her warm body. You try to suppress the groan that bubbles up in your throat when her lips find that one spot behind your ear, that one spot that has the best chance of waking you up and getting you going.

"What do I get in return?" she teases, and you can hear her cute giggles.

“Nothing,” you reply, without missing a beat.

"Not even a kiss?"

"No."

"That's not fair, daddy,” Yujin whines and squeezes you tighter, burying her head into your neck to inhale your scent before kissing your skin all over again. You want to protest again, but those lips are doing wonders against your body and she's doing everything she can to get you to wake up.

Yujin is relentless, but just like her younger roommate Wonyoung, always ends up getting what she wants, anyway. So you give in, grumpier than ever, and roll over to face her, putting down all your barriers. “One kiss.”

She doesn’t say anything else. Yujin just grins, leans forward to seal your lips with hers, then kisses your cheek, your forehead, and the tip of your nose.

“I said one—“

“That was one kiss. One kiss on each part of daddy’s cute face.”

You want to roll your eyes at her, but Yujin’s so goddamn adorable this early in the morning, like waking up to a puppy staring at you, that you can’t possibly stay annoyed for long.

“Fine. I‘ll get up.” It doesn't take much to convince you when it's her, so reluctantly you get out of bed with Yujin attached to your arm, rubbing your sore muscles with a gentle touch. You’re still in her bedroom, so it doesn’t take long for you to spot the pile of discarded clothes scattered across the floor, but you only bother to grab your shirt, since you’ve slept in your boxers, and pull it over your head, just enough to make yourself look presentable.

Yujin giggles behind you, and you give a still sleepy glance at her over your shoulder, watching the pretty smile on her face extend in a way that brings you out of your sleep-fueled daze. She kisses your neck one last time, then disappears inside her giant closet, re-emerging in a tank top and the shortest booty shorts you've ever seen on her. Yujin's never had much of a problem of showing herself off, which is a blessing because that sculpted body of hers is something else.

“Stop staring, daddy,” she playfully says, but you know she loves the attention, and she could have picked any other outfit than something that leaves so little to the imagination.

“You wanted me awake, now I’m awake.” You don’t even try to hide the way your eyes wander her body, how her top barely covers up her midriff, and how those black shorts ride up and hug the soft flesh of her cheeks so well. There’s nothing sexier than Yujin’s confidence, which fuels your gaze that continues to be shameless, mapping out the curves of her body, and you can’t look away for a second, not when Yujin puts herself on display like this.

“I’ll go make some coffee, daddy.”

Yujin spins on her heels and gives you an even better view of that plump backside that practically swallows up the tiny shorts that serve to highlight the fullness of her thighs. Her tight butt bounces with every step, and it’s downright mesmerizing as she makes her way downstairs towards the kitchen. You're following right behind, eyes glued to Yujin’s delicious body, to the way those wide hips sway—and it’s way too early to be drooling over her like this, but you can’t help it.

When you take a seat at the kitchen island, Yujin pulls out two coffee mugs out from the cabinet and starts the process of grinding the coffee beans. Before you met her, you survived off the cheap stuff from the cafeteria, because you don’t know the first thing about making coffee (it tasted horrendous but got the job done). Still, watching the way Yujin goes through the routine, it’s all very meticulous and fascinating at the same time, how effortlessly it all seems when she’s filled the room with the rich scent of fresh coffee. After only a few minutes, the entire process is done, and Yujin is expertly pouring brewed coffee into your mug from a French press, like she’s been doing this her whole life. It feels so domestic, and it’s a wonderful start to the day.

“Here you go, daddy." Yujin places the warm mug in front of you, then puts a couple sugar cubes in it to add just a little sweetness, stirring it with a smile. She knows your tastes perfectly by now, and even though you’re always teased for how you take your coffee, you’d drink it black if you had to, just because she’s the one to make it.

The first sip is like heaven, but you don’t expect anything less, and it has you closing your eyes, leaning back in your chair with a deep sigh of appreciation.

“Thank you,” you say, taking another sip of the rich beverage as Yujin settles herself right beside you. “It’s delicious.”

Yujin doesn’t even bother to sip from her own mug, instead basking in the steam’s aroma, and she’s more interested in watching you drink, watching the enjoyment in your eyes after every sip. You drink your coffee with the littlest of sips, both to savor the taste, and to not burn your tongue while you cradle your mug, waiting for it to become a more acceptable temperature.

"You know what would be even more delicious?" Yujin asks, nuzzling her face into your neck, and you’re almost scared to answer her, because you already know where this is going.

“No, I don’t,” you say with much hesitation. “What?” The last word rolls off your tongue with feigned ignorance, but you already know what Yujin is about to say as you take another sip.

“Breakfast. Do you want some breakfast, daddy?”

While it might be worded like one, you know it’s not an innocent question.

Waiting for her to drop the pretense, the grip on your mug tightens at Yujin’s words. Before you can bother responding, Yujin steals your mug and moves it away from the edge of the counter, hopping up to take its place on the island herself.

“I’ve got something daddy loves to eat,” Yujin purrs, with a smirk that tugs on the corners of her lips. Her thighs spread apart on the counter, those ridiculous long legs dangling off the island, and those shorts look so thin without any underwear underneath that you can clearly make out the outline of her cunt.

“I’ve barely started drinking my coffee,” you say with false annoyance, as you try not to salivate, yet all you can do is envision yourself in between those thick thighs, squeezing your head enough to deprive you of air.

“But don’t I taste better?” Yujin tries to entice you by rubbing her inner thighs, trying to lure you towards what she has planned. For now, you resist, remaining calm in your chair, sipping on your coffee and doing everything to deny Yujin’s seductive advances.

Ignoring her question is the only real option here, even while she’s tantalizing you with those legs spread so obscenely wide, it’s impossible not to stare. You’ll fold eventually, but you have to pretend that you have the upper hand. Yujin knows you too well by now, knows what works and what doesn’t, so she tries another approach, knowing you can’t stop staring at those alluring legs that activate all the right spots in your brain.

During your next sip, you feel Yujin’s feet caressing your crotch through your boxers, while her toes flex around your hardening shaft that causes you to nearly choke on your coffee. Yujin knows how to apply the right amount of friction to get your full attention, and the moment those gorgeous soles are teasing your growing cock, you’ve lost all interest in your coffee.

Yujin doesn’t say a word. She just playfully wiggles her toes around your length, squeezing it a little harder, adding just a little more friction. It takes a moment to compose yourself, gripping the edge of the chair tight and taking a deep breath, knowing you can’t do anything but succumb to her teasing feet that press into the bulge against your boxers.

She knows she has you now. Yujin knows she has you wrapped around her little finger, that you’ll worship every part of her, from head to toe, and then you’ll do it all over again.

If you’re not careful, Yujin’s going to make you explode, but that’s not exactly your choice to make.

“If daddy doesn’t wanna have me for breakfast, then I guess I’ll just have to keep playing with your cock like this. But I’m not gonna make you cum. Not gonna let you get even close, not until you taste me.”

It’s amazing how her words are both bratty and commanding at the same time. You know Yujin isn’t going to stop rubbing those pretty little toes all over your cock until you’re crumbling beneath her, because she’s only interested in what she wants—and what she wants is watching you squirm.

This is only the start. It's only going to get worse and worse, and you’re already trying so hard not to moan, trying hard not to stain your boxers. Resisting is all so pointless, so futile, because Yujin has this chapter written, and you’re just hoping it doesn’t end with a cliffhanger.

“You want more of this, don’t you? I know how much daddy wants me. Wanna feel my toes in your mouth so bad, don’t you? Or do you wanna rip these shorts off me and take me right here?”

It’s frustrating how good Yujin is at teasing you, how she always has the upper hand, and knows that in her presence, you’ll never say no to her. Your defenses break down bit by bit, and even through the thin material of your underwear, the pressure on your aching cock becomes too much to bear. You’re falling apart at the seams, and there’s no way to stop the thread from unraveling.

In the end, all that resistance was just an illusion, and you cave in, because of course you do. You’re dying to get your hands on Yujin, to taste every part of her, to rip those clothes off that she just put on. Yujin knows you better than you know yourself. And you don’t care how weak it makes you, because you’re hungry, you’re famished, not for breakfast, but for Yujin herself.

Ever so slowly, you lift one of those pretty feet from your crotch, bringing it to your mouth, and plant gentle kisses all over the soft sole of her foot, from her heel, to the middle of her high arch, then every one of her toes gets attention, from the big toe, all the way down to her small toe, and nothing gets left out. Yujin giggles with each kiss, while you give her what she wants, and she loves this part—she loves getting pampered by you, loves watching you worship her feet, especially when she has your undivided attention.

So as you pepper kisses along the length of her lengthy sole, Yujin keeps her other foot wrapped around your shaft, still massaging your needy cock through your boxers, and it’s obvious how much you needed this.

"You’re so hard," Yujin murmurs, her toes curling around your swelling tip, and bites her bottom lip in anticipation as you lick along her foot, your hungry, wet tongue, painting stripes along the bottom of her pretty sole. You trace her delicate foot from heel up to her toes, savoring the taste, and pressing your face against it before taking a deep inhale.

“God, Yujin,” you desperately groan, and you can smell her distinct scent even with your eyes closed. “Every part of you is just perfect.”

It's sweet, like vanilla, with a little hint of musk from sweat that you lick up, the salty flavor adding to your desire to worship Yujin. You continue your devotion to those priceless feet, switching from left to right, and running your tongue over Yujin's cute toes, tasting them one by one. It’s such an indulgent, shameless act, but she looks so relaxed while you lick all over her perfect, smooth soles, toes curling when you suck on them between your lips, coating them with your saliva, and god—you could just do this for hours.

“That feels fantastic, daddy,” Yujin says, and stops teasing you just long enough to press both feet against your face, letting you have your fill, as she enjoys watching you kiss, lick, and worship them. Her soles rub all over your mouth and chin, the tip of her toes indulging your eager tongue before her feet part to let you lick them both clean, and then you’re taking as many of those toes into your mouth as will fit, moaning as you suck on them, until you’re completely lost in savoring every inch of perfection.

It's a sight to behold, and Yujin is enjoying every second of it.

And then you’re in for one more round of vigorous worship, slobbering on Yujin’s soles, slurping on her toes, getting to taste as much of her pristine feet as you can, before her toes slip from between your lips with a loud, messy pop. You’ve hardly had enough, pressing both soles to either side of your face, which makes her smile at the lewd look of bliss that takes over, as you take another deep whiff, completely intoxicated by her utterly divine feet that deserve every bit of attention.

It’s out of the realm of possibility to think straight when you have Yujin up on a pedestal, with that body just waiting to be devoured, and it’s not enough now that you’ve been serving at the church of Yujin for the past several moments, transformed into a ravenous animal, left with an uncomfortable erection in your boxers that she needs to take responsibility for—

You’re going to do just that when you get out of your chair, pulling Yujin’s body towards you so her ass sits right on the edge of the island, and yank her shorts down, taking a moment to appreciate her pretty, bare cunt. There’s a bit of surprise on her face when you take the initiative, but you’re not letting a single second go to waste before you’re kissing her thighs with the same fervor, rubbing your face into the soft, supple flesh, licking them, biting them, listening to how she gasps when you’re tasting her sensitive skin.

Your cock continues to throb with anticipation, and you can’t hold yourself back, because there’s a fire that’s been lit inside you.

Yujin bites her lip hard, stifling a whimper as she looks down to watch you bury your head in between her legs. You continue licking along her inner thighs, working your way up, but never going where she wants you to most. It’s a slow process, turning the tables and teasing Yujin, savoring the taste of her thighs while her gorgeous pussy glistens, begging for attention, clit throbbing in need of your tongue.

“Daddy, no more teasing,” she pleads, but you’re not going to listen, even while her hands guide your head, you’re intent on kissing her thighs, leaving behind little love bites that have her squirming on the kitchen counter. Yujin lets out an adorable, frustrated little whine, but you pay her no attention as you run your tongue along the soft flesh of her thigh, dangerously close to her pussy.

“Yujin, you’ve gotten me this fucking hard, so you’re going to wait,” you say, looking up to watch the reaction on her face every time you plant your lips on her soft skin.

“No, daddy, I can’t. I’m so fucking wet,” Yujin says with a breathless, needy whine, and she parts her folds with two fingers to give you a better look. “Need you to taste me, need your mouth on my cunt. Right now, daddy.”

You’re trying to keep it all up, keep whatever semblance of control you have, but Yujin keeps touching herself in front of you, letting you see how wet she is, how ready she is to take your cock. After all you’ve done, you falter, because you can’t wait either, and you’re just as zealous to feast on her cunt.

It’s embarrassing how you’re falling back on your words, but who could blame you when you’ve been treated to such a delicious-looking meal inches in front of your face? So without a second thought, you dive in, tongue first, finally pressing your mouth against Yujin’s needy little cunt, and she lets out a gasp of relief when you’re tasting her slit.

Her pussy is already soaking wet for you, and it only takes one more lick before Yujin’s a whimpering mess, clutching on to the end of the counter as you work your tongue inside her, gathering up her sweet juices that spill out to keep your tongue satiated.

“Daddy, fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop, need you to eat my pussy,” Yujin says, and she’s torn between begging for more, and taking it, but the way she’s threading her fingers through your hair lets you know which route she’s about to take. Either way, you’re not about to stop lapping at her pussy when she takes control, pulls your face in deeper, and she’s guiding your head between her spread legs, urging you to lick every last inch of her.

It only gets better when those immaculate, supple thighs shut around your head, trapping you in place. And it doesn’t even matter that you can’t even breathe, because you don’t need air, not when you have Yujin to breathe in, and she keeps you right where she wants you. Her thighs feel soft and warm, so utterly divine that when they press against the sides of your face while you devour her, you’re in absolute nirvana.

Yujin’s taste is nothing but intoxicating, so dangerously sweet that you can’t help but drink up every drop that spills from her perfect cunt, and you’re going to eat her out like she deserves, like your entire purpose in life is to make her feel good. You’re a mere mortal in comparison, and you’ll keep devouring her pussy until she cums on your face as many times as she pleases, because that’s the least you can do for a goddess like her.

"Yujin, you taste so fucking good," you groan, burying your tongue in her silky folds. She lets out a little yelp when you drag your tongue up her slit, and suck her clit into your mouth, flicking the tip of your tongue across it. Yujin keeps tugging at your hair, desperate to force your tongue deeper inside, and she doesn’t care if she chokes you with her thighs—and you’ll welcome it.

Your mouth is so fucking wet, but you’re still insatiable for more, because your tongue just can’t get enough of Yujin’s juices, a thirst that will never be quenched. Yujin dictates every little move you make, from how fast your tongue moves inside her, to how often she lets you come up for air, which matters little when all you can breathe is her heavenly arousal. She keeps her thighs locked around your head, a position you never want to escape from, wanting to stay trapped in that suffocating warmth as you keep your lips locked around her clit, and you’ll eat Yujin out for eternity if she lets you.

"Fuck,” Yujin says, letting a single syllable of her satisfaction slip out between moans. “You’re so good, so good at that daddy. Need you to keep eating me like this. Need you to make me cum.”

You’ll listen to anything she demands at this point, even as she’s whining and whimpering, while you explore every bit of her soaked folds, sucking hard on her clit, and you’re long past addicted to every drop that fills your lips. This is all familiar, you’ve done this enough times that you can do in your sleep, so you know how to get Yujin to the finish line and then some—but you also know that Yujin’s satisfaction never comes after just one orgasm. You’re going to keep your tongue buried between Yujin’s thighs, going to keep sucking on her clit, and even if your jaw gets sore, you won’t stop, not until she’s begging you to.

It may not get to that point, when the moment Yujin arches her back off the counter, her thighs start quivering with anticipation, and you know she can’t hold on much longer. Your mouth works overtime to draw out that much desired release, as the grip on your hair becomes so tight, so unrelenting, that you’ve done everything right when her fingernails dig into your scalp. Nothing’s going to stop her from climaxing, from making an absolute mess on your face, and you’re welcoming it all, licking her sweet pussy like your life depends on it.

“Daddy, I’m gonna—fuck!“ Yujin cries out, and then she’s convulsing on the counter, letting out the prettiest whines and moans as she cums, she cums hard on your face and her thighs begin violently shaking around your head, while you’re drinking up as much of it as you can.

With you slurping all the juices from her sensitive pussy, Yujin lets out the prettiest whines, gasping for air as she squirms on the kitchen counter, unable to remain still, unable to do anything but ride it all out. She keeps her thighs wrapped around your head, because she doesn’t want you to stop licking her soaking wet folds, and you wouldn't dream of denying her more bliss.

“Make me cum again, daddy. Make me cum again on your cute face,” she demands, and you’re happy to oblige her without hesitation. Not that you have much of a choice with your face pressed into her messy cunt, but you’re still eager to deliver more pleasure until her toes curl tighter, and her entire body shudders from the blissful waves of another orgasm crashing into her.

Now that you’ve gotten that sensitivity going, the second time Yujin cums it’s just as beautiful, even if it doesn’t last as long. You’re almost disappointed when the pressure around your head releases, because you’ve grown accustomed to inhaling the scent of Yujin’s pussy for what feels like forever. But when her thighs spread open for worship once more, and you lick them clean, she flashes you a look that you know means she’s not even close to being satisfied. It’s a look you know all too well.

“Daddy got to have his breakfast, so now it’s time for mine.”

Not even taking a moment to let her stamina refill, Yujin hops off the counter and palms your bulge. She makes short work of your underwear as it falls to your ankles, and your cock is already twitching for attention that she gives right away, stroking with slow, methodical pumps as she captures you in her sultry gaze.

The last of your patience runs thin, but Yujin's ran out long ago.

You’re dying to be balls deep inside her, and the feeling is mutual for her. There’s no more waiting to be dealt with as she grabs the hem of her tank top, yanking It over her head, and you follow in her footsteps until you’re both stripped of your clothes, standing bare ass naked in the middle of the kitchen.

There's only a moment to appreciate the parts of her body that you’ve yet to worship, how perfect those breasts look before her hands are already back on your cock, pumping with a tight enough grip to almost hurt. You take the chance to get your mouth on her tits, sucking on her taut nipples, swirling your tongue around while she pumps you, until Yujin releases your cock and leans back on the counter. Yujin is just so damn perfect, and you keep showing that by kissing her abs in just the right places, moving down to the curve of her hips, then back up her chest, peppering along her collarbone.

Yujin stops you when you get up to her neck and has this glint in her eye that can’t be ignored. “Fuck me, daddy. Right here, right now. Wanna feel your big cock in my little cunt, and then—“

The rest is a mystery as Yujin breaks eye contact long enough to spin around, bending over the counter to present you with an irresistible view of her tight ass. You can see the wetness glistening along her folds at this angle, and it’s impossible to hide how desperate you are to bury your aching cock in her cunt. It doesn’t help the way Yujin shakes her ass at you, tempting you with those full cheeks that would have you on your knees if not for how badly she needs to be fucked.

“Daddy,” Yujin growls, sounding more like a warning as she flashes a look over her shoulder that’s a silent message for you to get inside her, right now.

Almost as soon as you line up behind Yujin's body, she grabs the base of your shaft, guiding it between her legs, and takes away any chance to savor that initial penetration when she presses it against her slick opening.

It's overwhelming the way your cockhead slips between that silky flesh, parting those pretty wet folds and Yujin at least lets you do the rest, sinking inch after inch, until there’s no part of you left to bury inside her.

Yujin’s incredibly tight, but always feels so warm and welcoming, and there’s no need to take things slow, not when she’s all out of patience, pushing her ass back to meet you. It’s a signal heard loud and clear. When you grab her wide hips, your shaft plunges inside that familiar heat, and the grip her velvety walls offer is so fucking good it makes your mind go numb as you start to move faster inside her.

“Fuck, there you go, daddy. Pound me, pound my little cunt, make me feel full,” Yujin says, like that wasn’t always the plan from the start. There’s no way your thrusts are anything but deep and unforgiving, bottoming her out in no time, and she takes you so well, so effortlessly, that you’re the one having trouble adjusting instead of her.

“Yujin,” you start to say, but the way her pussy stretches around your cock, allowing you free rein to give her a proper dickdown leaves your mind blank. There’s nothing of importance to say other than how perfect she feels, or how good you want to make her feel, so you’ll just shut up and keep pounding her tight cunt.

You’re already hitting so deep, your cockhead kissing her insides, and it has you falling into a quick, powerful tempo that leaves Yujin clutching the edges of the counter for support. It’s a view that’s only made better when Yujin looks back, letting you see the deep lust in her eyes, the kind that’ll keep your hips moving until they give out. It’s everything you love about this position, letting you appreciate the best parts of Yujin’s body, particularly the way that thick ass jiggles when your hips meet, when she pushes back against you and matches your own pace.

Despite the fact that you’re, in theory, the one in control, Yujin is guiding the reins, demanding you fuck her harder, digging her nails into your thigh when your cock doesn’t move as fast as she likes, when it doesn’t rearrange her guts hard enough. There’s no doubt she’s calling the shots, there never was, and the little glances she gives over her shoulder serve as a stark reminder to pound her pussy without her telling you to.

You match Yujin’s groans with every thrust you make, burying your cock so deep inside her warmth, and holding such a tight grip on those flawless hips she’ll bruise no doubt, but she doesn’t even care—Yujin just wants you to keep this pace up, keep pulling her back whenever you ram inside her. She can take your cock so well, even as your pace grows erratic by her orders, but you never let up, because she needs your cock like air, needs to be stretched like her perfect little cunt deserves.

And you’re going to listen to whatever Yujin says, even as your hips start to burn from drilling her cunt so hard, putting every amount of force into your thrusts until she’ll feel it in the next morning. You're already so fucking close with how much she clenches around your cock, but you have to last until she's satisfied, until she’s screaming your name.

But that won’t be long, because Yujin is so fucking wet, and you can see the puddle between her legs that only grows, only serves as more evidence of how good a pounding she’s getting. It’s as loud as it is messy, but it leaves Yujin with a craving for more, leaving her frantically rubbing her clit, and the clench around your cock gets so fucking tight you almost explode.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, make me cum, daddy, make me cum on your thick fucking cock. Fuck, then you can cum and then I can taste—“

“Oh, good morning.” Wonyoung nonchalantly walks past the action happening, like you’re not in the middle of plowing her older roommate, and opens up the fridge. To be fair, you’ve become so accustomed to her interrupting the two of you, it does little to distract you at this point.

“Don’t mind me, just grabbing something to eat before class,” Wonyoung says, grabbing some yogurt and fresh berries from the fridge shelf, then uses her hip to close it shut. She takes a seat on the other side of the counter so casually, watching you pound Yujin, while taking her time to peel back the foil lid, then starts to slowly dip her spoon into the yogurt, mixing in the berries at the same time.

Her eyes are fixated on the action, but she’s eating a healthy breakfast with such a vacant expression on her face, like this isn't the slightest bit strange. Wonyoung chews slowly, taking occasional glances in your direction while you’re ramming your cock into Yujin who doesn’t seem bothered in the least, not even when you start spanking her ass, just to make those plentiful cheeks jiggle, so she can moan louder and tighten up around your shaft.

“We’re out of blueberries,” Wonyoung says, as her lips pout, like you’re not railing her best friend in front of her, slapping Yujin’s ass hard, that it’s enough to make her squeal when the flesh ripples—and she does it again so fucking loud when you give her another rough spank, one deafening strike after the other that has your full concentration on the hypnotizing waves her ass cheeks make.

You’re absolutely destroying Yujin’s cunt, finding new angles to piston into her that have her letting out guttural cries of pleasure, and her tender asscheeks have the most beautiful hand prints on them, a pleasant shade of red that keeps deepening. Yujin gets impossibly tight whenever you spank her, making the most pathetic little whimpers while you deliver those stinging slaps to her ass, but Wonyoung makes little if any acknowledgment, uninterested in anything but her yogurt, eating it in relative silence.

It’s impressive how Wonyoung can maintain such a straight face, despite how loud you’re making Yujin scream, filling that cunt so perfectly, and it gets where you’ll try anything to get her attention—so you go harder on Yujin, ramming your shaft into that tight pussy so rough, that she can barely hang on to the kitchen counter. You’re doing whatever possible to elicit a reaction out of the younger girl, fucking the air right out of Yujin, that it becomes a challenge not to burst when your hips keep slapping against her reddened ass, because her pussy feels so fucking unreal—

Wonyoung has all but turned to stone, and while her eyes might dart from you to Yujin, it's impossible to tell if she's judging, aroused, or just enjoying the show. That stoic expression hasn’t changed one bit.

“Daddy, need you to give it to me, ruin my fucking pussy. Your cock feels so fucking good inside me, but you’re not pounding me hard enough,” Yujin says, which you find impossible to believe, but then again, you’re pretty sure that she’s getting off on her younger best friend watching her get dicked down.

So as Wonyoung just keeps eating her yogurt through it all, licking her spoon clean after every bite, paying no mind to how raw and vulgar the sounds of flesh smacking against flesh get, as you put every little ounce of strength you have left. Yujin is bent over so obscenely, taking all your cock without issue, and pushes back to meet each and every thrust that gets buried deep inside her.

There’s so much sweat dripping down your bodies, and you’ve given up on trying to break that poker face on Wonyoung, leaving you with nothing left to distract you. Yujin can take so much without any trouble, as if she’s showing off how much her pussy enjoys being pummeled, and all she does is beg for more. You keep the hand that isn’t on her hips moving, and the more it meets the deadly curve of that round ass, the better it gets watching the recoil on those sweaty cheeks.

Yujin's on the verge of release, and you’re not far behind, both chasing an earth-shattering orgasm that’ll have you both reeling, but as dangerously close as you are, Yujin's even closer, clenching hard on your cock, so fucking tight that you'll burst any second now.

You’re moving on auto-pilot, and when Yujin turns her head back to meet you halfway with her lips, your mouth crashes against her own, then you’re planting hungry kisses down her neck. There’s not a part on Yujin’s body that doesn’t taste good, and you kiss as many places as you have access to, from those beautiful shoulders, to that bare back covered in sweat, doing everything you can to prevent the inevitable.

All it takes is one solitary thrust that hits just right until Yujin’s legs begin to tremble, and when you do it again, she almost collapses on the spot. One more time, and she’s cumming on your cock without any warning, gushing on the kitchen floor, and it takes everything you’ve got to keep yourself buried. She’s squealing, gasping as you fuck her through the violent orgasm that rips through her body, and the only thing you can think about is how fucking desperate you are for relief while you hold her hips, helping her ride through the intensity of her high that shows no signs of yielding.

The kitchen (and Yujin) is going to be such a mess after this.

Yujin keeps convulsing on your cock, taking you closer to that edge, while you drill her as fast and hard as your hips will allow, driving her to a second greedy climax that you’re a fraction of a second from blowing your load inside her. Yujin’s so fucking wet, so unbearably tight that you’ll have to make a conscious effort to hold on, because you can't last much longer, not with how euphoric it feels to be buried in her cunt.

“D-daddy, daddy, are you close?” Yujin asks, out of breath, and it’s the easiest question in the world to answer. All you can do is nod at this point during the next lust-filled kiss, and it takes all of your remaining strength to pull out from her heat at the right time.

Yujin drops to her knees to finish you off, tasting herself on your needy cock, and it won’t take long at all until you’re filling up that pretty mouth.

While this is all happening, Wonyoung licks her spoon clean one last time, still sitting on the opposite end of the island, and gets up out of her chair without a passing glance, tossing her empty yogurt cup away. She leaves without any parting words, without the slightest bit of recognition that Yujin now has your cock jammed down her throat as she grabs your hips, bobbing her head at an impossible to deal with pace.

You’re on board a rocket that’s already been lit, about to explode at any moment, because the back of Yujin’s wet throat feels like heaven, and the way she looks up, waiting for you to cum is more maddening than you know how to handle. Her nails dig deeper into your hips, and you’re spiraling out of control while those sexy lips of hers stay perfectly sealed around your cock, tongue tracing the underside of your cock. Yujin isn’t going to stop until she has you cumming down her throat.

That gorgeous face is so eager, so happy to swallow all the cum out of your cock, and her eyes show how badly she wants it as her hands leave your hips, finding your wrists before she guides them up the back of her head.

“Yujin—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, you’re gonna make me fucking cum,” you groan out, and you’ve never seen those sparkling eyes widen so much. You know Yujin can’t wait, nor can you, not with how sloppy her mouth is, how deep she’s taking you into her mouth, and she’s sucking you off so well you can hardly think straight, every messy slurp making your head spin.

Yujin doesn’t even gag when you instinctively start fucking her mouth, getting a strong grip on her head, and you’re not even sure how she can even breathe with your cock crammed so far down her throat—not that she cares, because she just keeps staring up at you, keeps showing you how much she wants you to cum in her mouth, like she needs it to survive.

It’s fucking filthy, wet, and you can’t even settle into a rhythm before your cock throbs, your lips groaning Yujin’s name in a chant as the only warning she’ll get before you press her face down into her crotch, holding her there until your hot seed shoots down her throat.

Your legs threaten to give out when you unload down Yujin’s waiting throat, but she takes everything you have to offer. It’s not the least bit difficult for her to swallow it all, smiling with her eyes as you’re pumping all the thick, gooey cum into her stomach, and she makes sure none of it goes to waste, throat milking it all out.

Yujin fucking loves the taste, the thickness that fills her mouth, the texture that she can’t get enough of, swallowing every last drop like it’s the best damn breakfast she’s ever had. And when there’s nothing left in your balls to empty, Yujin keeps her mouth on your shaft, keeps that powerful suction going, even when you can’t take anymore.

“Yujin, please,” you can barely get out, and you’re not proud of begging, but fighting against the aftershocks and overstimulation is an uphill battle that makes you nearly pass out against the kitchen counter. But fortune favors you, since there’s pity written on Yujin’s features, so she lets you slip out of her mouth, licking your sensitive cockhead clean before doing the same to her lips.

“Thanks for the delicious protein, daddy. It really makes the best breakfast.”

With whatever strength left, you hold on for dear life against the kitchen island, and Yujin just stares at you in your post-orgasm daze, licking her lips like she’s ready to go again. Because you know she is.

“Daddy—“ It’s just one word, but she says it with affection in her voice as she saunters over to you and caresses your cheek. Both of you are covered in sweat, but you really took the brunt of it, given that you’re still gasping for air, still recovering from such a mind-blowing, toe-curling orgasm Yujin just helped you reach. “I think we should skip the rest of our classes today. Don’t you?”

She has a point. You’ll only have a couple of classes left in your day even if you went, and you’re not particularly compelled to spend hours listening to some old guy drone on about histories of countries you’ll probably never even visit in your lifetime. You also know with your schedule clear that Yujin’s liable to jump your bones the entire day, and you’re already exhausted as is.

But really—when has Yujin wearing you out ever been a bad thing?

✦ ✦

To nobody’s surprise, Yujin is insatiable.

On the kitchen floor still lies a heap of clothes, but there’s no point in putting them back on, since they won’t be staying on. Now that your schedule’s been freed, Yujin has the rest of the day planned out—and it involves you, her, and whatever surface that’ll hold her weight.

Wonyoung’s classes won’t be over for several hours, so there won’t be any more interruptions, which gives the perfect opportunity to jump in the shower and share the hot water together. In reality, it’s the only reprieve you’re getting, and that’ll only last until the water warms up—getting clean is only an afterthought.

Once the water starts streaming down your bodies, it relaxes all your tired muscles, and Yujin helps soap up your body, which is really just an excuse to get her hands on you again. And her hands feel amazing when they massage all the sore spots on your body underneath the running water (which is always as hot as possible when Yujin’s involved).

You’ve never felt so relaxed, so calm when Yujin helps shampoo your hair, working her fingers deep in your scalp. Something in your gut tells you that feeling is only going to last until it all gets washed out, even as Yujin smiles innocently when she helps rinse out your hair.

When the last of the shampoo falls down into the drain, it takes all the purity of the shower with it.

Yujin begins soaping up your body, running her hands along every part of your chest and stomach, and it doesn’t take long before she gets a little too handsy. Little by little, her hands travel down your hips, and you know where they’re going to detour, that there was zero chance you’d actually use the shower for its designated purpose.

It doesn’t matter though, when Yujin looks so ethereal surrounded by running water, with her wet hair stuck to her face, accompanied by the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. You’re definitely staring, which no one could blame you for when the only thing better than Yujin’s naked body—is Yujin’s naked body all wet and soapy.

Distraction comes easily when you’re busy getting lost in all the curves of that immaculate figure, and you’re only interrupted when Yujin uses your hips to spin you around, facing you away from her as the hot water starts to pelt your chest. The only thing more soothing than the running water is the way her arms wrap around your waist, how the weight of her perky breasts press into your back. Yujin’s soft lips latch onto your neck, peppering it with kisses, and her hands inch lower down your torso, with no mistaking where they’re heading.

“Daddy,” Yujin whispers, wrapping those eager fingers around your length, and it only takes a few pumps before she brings your erection back to life. “Gonna keep milking you, gonna keep draining those heavy loads out of your balls over and over until they’re sore, until you can barely walk.”

You have little of a response to offer, only groans that tell Yujin all she needs to hear when the grip on your shaft tightens. The hot breath on your neck only serves to leave you more speechless, and the way she’s jerking you off nice and slow only makes it worse, especially with how you’re still sensitive, but you’re not about to admit that—she’ll know regardless.

Yujin’s words hold so much weight to them, because you know how relentless she can be, how easy it is to gain control over your body. You know her words are a promise, a guarantee that she’ll do whatever she likes, and she lets out a little giggle when your shaft twitches in her hand. “You’re gonna cum all day for me, right? As many times as I want. All over me, all inside me, everywhere. Your cum belongs to me, daddy.”

It gets harder to speak the more Yujin reveals her intentions, the more those fingers squeeze the tip of your cock just right, making you let out a desperate moan. She keeps nibbling on your neck, pumping your length at an agonizing pace, just so your shaft doesn't get the kind of attention you need, just enough to keep you hard for her.

“Just thinking about all the ways I can make daddy cum makes me so fucking wet. You’re gonna breed me so many times today, gonna pump all your loads inside me.“

When Yujin finishes her sentence, she licks over your earlobe, blowing hot air into it as the path her fingers take speeds up, gets just a little tighter. It’s the littlest bit of pleasure, but it draws out your moans, and without even noticing, your hips are bucking on their own, fucking her fist to bring yourself to another release.

“You need to cum again, don’t you?” Yujin asks, but her question comes with more intense jerks of her hand, giving you the pace you desperately need, which makes you twitch between her fingers harder than before. “Then you have to let me do it, daddy.”

Yujin stalls your hips, holding them in place long enough so you’ll get the message. All you want to do is move, thrust your shaft in between Yujin’s delicate little hand, but it’s clear she’s not going to allow that, so you hold back anything that voices your frustration. She nips at your ear, and her soapy hand slides along your shaft with ease, twisting the right way, and given the attention you’ve been craving,

It's embarrassing how close you already are, especially after such a rough, sweaty session on the kitchen counter. “Daddy likes when I take my time, don’t you? When I get you all worked up, because it’ll feel better when I make you cum…”

You’re not going to admit anything, regardless if she’s right or not. Which she is, but you’re fucking greedy right now, and all you want is to fuck Yujin against the shower glass, until you fuck another load inside her. You can’t even see her face right now, but you know what smug expression is on her face when she strokes your cock just the way you like it, bringing you closer and closer, and you can feel the hardness of her nipples as her wet tits stay squished against your back.

Maybe it’s for the best that you can’t see her, since you know she'd have that familiar shit-eating grin plastered on her face, knowing how fucking close you are to unloading in her hands, because nobody but her can get you off quite like she can.

“Yujin, please,” you moan, a regrettable use of words, because you don’t need her knowing just how desperate you are to cum, but it’s too late when she chuckles into your ear.

She’s maniacal in her ways, releasing the grip on your cock, just to laugh as it throbs in the air—then she’s teasing that sweet spot with the pad of her finger, applying the least amount of pressure when she traces your shaft from base to tip, prolonging every bit of pleasure you’ll beg for.

You’re a fucking wreck already, and Yujin just keeps building and building your orgasm, making you chase it. It only becomes more of a challenge not to move your hips when she gives ample amounts of pleasure, just to steal it away at the last possible second, until you’re letting out more whimpers of desperation.

There’s no comfort in being under the hot water anymore while Yujin keeps you riding that edge, keeps you right where she wants you. “Please, please,Yujin—“

Your pleas go unanswered while her free hand rakes against your wet abdomen, giving an extra dose of stimulation that only makes it all worse, and she never maintains the same speed of those tormenting strokes for long. Yujin knows how to torture your cock better than you give her credit for.

“Maybe I should make daddy wait until we’re out of the shower?” You’d rather perish at such a suggestion.

You’re at her whims, powerless, vulnerable as could be, when she uses her thumb to rub lazy circles around your cockhead, and embarrassingly helpless, waiting for the moment when she has mercy on you, when she’ll let you blow a load like you never have before.

What makes matters worse is Yujin knowing how close you are to the edge, that if she squeezes your cockhead just right, you’ll shoot an absolute mess between her fingers and all over the tiles. You could be selfish, take matters into your own hands—quite literally. It’s not like Yujin hasn’t given you permission to cum, and she doesn’t punish you for anything—but there’s no satisfaction in taking the easy way out.

So you’re left with the only other option—keeping your composure. A task made nearly impossible when Yujin keeps changing the pressure, only allowing as many strokes as it takes to reach that dangling edge once more. All you can do is wait for it to all build back up again, then hang on tight, which isn’t easy when Yujin keeps teasing the other parts of your body: playing with your nipples, giving your balls a gentle squeeze, doing everything but letting you reach the nirvana you’d give anything to reach.

“Yujin—“ You don’t even care how needy you sound, or how frail your voice comes out as, you’re not above getting on your hands and knees to beg at this point. Even when it seems like you've been edged for days, Yujin knows how well you can endure it.

“Don’t you worry, daddy. I said I was gonna milk your cock, so that’s what I’m gonna do,” Yujin purrs, as fingers rub the sensitive tip of your cock. It's too much pressure, and it takes everything to hold back from spilling, even when you're so fucking close. Yujin squeezes your heavy balls once more, then again, like she’s gauging how much you’ll blow when you’re finally permitted to finish, and you’re a hair's breadth from releasing it all.

There’s a wet kiss planted on the back of your neck as Yujin applies a firm grip at the base of your shaft, and those magical fingers move at a pace that you’ve been dying for as they twist around your cock. Yujin rubs her thumb around your sensitive slit, and begins to pump with such ferocity that your breathing gets heavy and weak, fueling the anticipation more and more, until you’re almost there—

You just pray that Yujin lets you finish this time.

She gives every bit of stimulation you can take, cycling through sucking on your neck, blowing puffs of hot air into your ear, and whispering the absolute dirtiest things she can imagine, words that could make you cum on their own. And the knot in your stomach just keeps snowballing.

“Give me your cum, daddy. Give me that big fucking load, I need it, I need to milk it right out of you,” Yujin commands, with a death grip on your shaft, jerking you off so fast as that pressure just keeps boiling until you’re at a breaking point. Everything blurs together, and it’s impossible to do anything but let the inevitable happen, because regardless if Yujin lets you or not—you’re going to fucking cum.

One light stroke is all it takes to reach the point of no return, and Yujin wraps her free arm around your waist in order to keep you upright while your climax hits like a truck. Your load shoots out like a geyser, coating Yujin’s fingers as you spray it all over the tiles, moaning uncontrollably. As you let out all that bottled up bliss, your whole body spasms out of control, but Yujin keeps you steady, keeps pumping all of your seed out, the sheer force of it making her giggle.

It doesn’t feel like the spurts ever get weaker, even as Yujin keeps squeezing the tip of your cock, prolonging your euphoric high for as long as she can. The relief only gets better with every heavy pulse of your shaft, and it feels like it’s never going to end—you just cum, and cum, and cum, while Yujin whispers words of praise into your ears, milking that massive load out of you as promised. Every little drop gets ejected from your pulsating shaft, until your balls are depleted, absolutely drained, and there’s nothing left to spill.

By the time it all subsides, every muscle in your body still trembles, and even after you’ve been milked dry, your cock still throbs for Yujin. The aftershocks fire off like the Fourth of July, and it’s a losing battle trying not to collapse, but Yujin ensures you remain on your feet.

Yujin turns you around to face her, and there’s a dangerous grin on her face—something you should be worried about, because only she knows what else you’re in store for. Without even noticing, the water gets turned off, and Yujin helps you out of the shower, draping a towel over your shoulder to aid in your recovery. Little by little, you regain your senses until you feel like a functional human again.

There’s not a mirror left that hasn’t been completely fogged over, but the cool air feels so refreshing on your hot skin after being in there for ages. Yujin can’t stop smiling as she takes care of you, drying off your body and ruffling your hair, because she knows you’re going to feel that high for days.

Once you're all toweled off, squeaky clean, and refreshed, it all comes full circle when Yujin drags you back to her bedroom, one of the biggest places in the apartment. Her bed is spacious enough to accommodate a small army, but it’s just you, her, and that killer smile, with all the room for whatever Yujin has in mind.

Again, clothes seem like such a frivolous waste of energy, and neither of you can even be bothered with those fancy silk bathrobes Yujin looks so good in. Besides, there’s this inescapable feeling you’re going to need all the energy you can spare.

Your suspicions get proven once your back hits the mattress, when Yujin’s lips place chaste kisses down your shoulders and chest before resting her head on you. It’s the rare occasion where you have time to relax, even being aware there’s some devilish intentions stored up, but you’re able to just enjoy the moment with Yujin nuzzled against you, but god—her skin feels so impossibly soft, and she smells so good, even though its just shampoo, body spray, and her natural scent.

“Did you have fun yesterday?” Yujin asks out of the blue, and you don’t have the faintest idea what she’s referring to, but with her, you’ll have to prepare for anything. While you’re waiting for her to explain, her fingers run through your hair, scratching the back of your scalp, which relaxes you enough to fall asleep in an instant as your heavy eyelids shut tight.

“Did you have fun plowing our Wonyoungie yesterday?“ Yujin repeats, with a bit of clarification that leaves a disastrous blush on your face when your eyes spring open. “I went out for a swim while you two were…busy and I could still hear her from the pool.”

It all feels like a lifetime ago that you railed Wonyoung across the entire apartment, but in reality, less than twenty-four hours passed. The image stays fresh in your mind, how you can still feel how Wonyoung clung to your body as you ravaged her down the hallway, and made her cum on your fingers, then again on your tongue, and then even more times on your cock than you could count. You can still hear the whimpers in your ears when you folded Wonyoung in half, and it wouldn’t matter where Yujin was—there wasn’t a quiet spot in the entire apartment.

“Sorry, we should have been more—”

Yujin interrupts you with a kiss before your defenses get too worked up. “There’s no need to be sorry. Hearing you pound that little brat senseless really got me going. Do you know how jealous hearing her scream daddy over and over made me? I just wanted to lie out and enjoy the sun, but I couldn’t stop touching myself, hearing the way you fucked her brains out.

There’s no bigger smile than the one on her face right now.

Jealousy wasn’t a trait you expected from Yujin, but it’s not surprising given how possessive she can get. That image alone, there's something so arousing about it—even more when you know Yujin loves swimming in the nude, and her getting off by the pool as she hears every single scream from Wonyoung, it sends blood flowing to all the right places. Yujin can discern how you’re processing the information, how it gets the gears in your head turning and all your fantasies brought to the surface.

“I don’t usually get myself off when I have you and Wonyoung to do that, but the way you just kept pounding her and pounding her—“

Yujin’s eyes can’t stop growing when she relives the events from yesterday, and it’s clear this is only going to end one way. “I hope you came in her, daddy. I hope you pumped all your cum in that little slut.”

“You think there’s any way I wouldn’t?” You’re almost annoyed that she would dare ask such a thing, like Wonyoung’s tight little body isn’t tailor made for breeding. Regardless, Yujin can only beam from ear to ear, because it’s the answer she wants to hear, even though it would take a herculean effort to not finish inside your mutual younger roommate.

"Wonyoung has such a nice body, doesn’t she? Her perky little tits, tiny waist, and that face? Oh, isn’t it so gorgeous? She’s like a model. Doesn’t it just make you want to blast a nice, thick load all over it? She would look so pretty covered in your cum, daddy.” Yujin looks absolutely feral when she talks like that, and she’s pushing all the right buttons to provoke a reaction out of you, one that you’re hopeless to defend against.

“You know what’ll be even better?” she asks, adding a pause that’s just there to torture you. “When I watch your cock wreck her cunt, being right there when you breed that little cumslut. I can’t wait to see how she takes your huge cock, how that bratty face looks when you’re filling up that pretty little pussy.”

It’s hard to not let your arousal get carried away when Yujin keeps putting ideas in your head, but you have no barriers left to build. She gets you riled up so easily, with just a few simple words to plant the seeds, and your imagination will grow the rest.

“But you know I can’t just watch, right?” Yujin adds, as her voice develops into a low murmur against your ear. ”Next time—we both get to play with her.”

You can see it so vividly, the image of sharing Wonyoung as she gets stretched out on your cock, using her petite body, dominating her in unison, defiling her in every position imaginable—it really gets the blood between your legs pumping. All of it serves as just a sample to whatever Yujin has planned, and she unravels the next step by grabbing the back of your hand, pressing it in between her thighs so you can feel the wetness pooling out of her cunt.

There’s that hungry look again in Yujin’s eyes when she grinds on your fingers long enough to coat them in her inexhaustible slickness. Your respite has all the life span you expected—she won’t be satisfied with just getting your fingers messy, there’s a much more grandiose plan awaiting.

Yujin releases your wrist, but that warm, wet mess clings to your fingertips, dripping down your hand, like it wasn’t obvious she’s raring to start the second act. You get a moment to see how her arousal glistens on your fingers before she brings them up to her mouth, tasting her own sweetness, and sucks it right off without breaking eye contact.

Everything about it looks so erotic, the way Yujin sucks so greedily on your digits and uses the same energy when she goes down on you, cleaning up every single spot of the mess she created. Yujin hums against your fingers, and sucks with such fervor, like the juices she’s licking clean are the most delicious thing she could have in her mouth. It’s hard to decipher the expression on Yujin’s face, whether she looks so ravenous because she’s tasting herself, or if she just loves having your fingers in her mouth.

It doesn't really matter in the end, because it’s all done to grab your attention. You’re just trying to keep that lingering arousal in check, not let it get too carried away—but you can’t say the same for Yujin, who’s gotten so messy with how she’s salivating on your fingers, long past cleaning the taste off them. This is all for her own enjoyment.

“Daddy…” Her voice starts out muffled with how her lips stay attached around your fingers. “Oh, daddy…” Yujin drags out her syllables when she shifts position into a full straddle, resting her weight on your lap as she keeps sliding your wet fingers past her lips. It’s the right kind of messy that has saliva dripping down her chin, and you know there’s no way Yujin can’t feel your cock stiffening up again once she releases your fingers with a sensual pop, letting them travel up her toned abdomen, right up to the valley between her naked breasts.

“I know you love getting your tongue in my cunt,” she says, using your saliva coated digits to squeeze one of her sensitive breasts, then teases her stiff nipple in lazy circles, poorly stifling out a little gasp. “So this time, I’ll make it easier for you.”

This is the part where all of your muscles tense up waiting for Yujin to pounce. It’s an overwhelming anticipation when she brings your index finger back into her mouth, using the tip of her tongue to roll around it before taking it down to the knuckle without even gagging, and makes such a lewd display of it, using you to satisfy her oral fixation.

“Just lay there, daddy. Stay right there so I can ride your cute face.”

The words come out so casually when Yujin pops out your finger, and there’s no answer you could give besides an obedient nod. She knows this, of course, not that it matters what random assortment of words get strung together; the answer will always be the same, but even under that thousand-mile long smile, there’s something more sinister waiting.

It’s a look that sends your heart racing, the suspense deepening when Yujin makes the slow crawl up your body, and ends with a devastating kiss before grabbing the headboard to pull herself up. No other vantage point offers a more appetizing view of that tantalizing pink flesh, and there are no barriers between Yujin when she hovers right above your mouth, spreading herself open with two fingers so her arousal drips down your face.

“Daddy—” Yujin begins to say, but it doesn’t matter how her sentence finishes, because you’re too lost in how tasty her cunt looks. You can’t imagine how it looks on her end, how starved you must look, but you can’t contain your insatiable lust for Yujin, dying for a taste.

And then, that craving becomes reality as Yujin lowers her hips, until those heavenly thighs return to either side of your face. There isn’t even a warning—not that you need one while she presses her soaking wet folds against your face, smearing it with her nectar that trickles into your mouth. You don’t even get the chance to get your tongue on her, because she’s just spreading that wetness wherever she can, and it’s only when you try to savor that taste that she’s pulling away—

Yujin wants to make you work for it.

All you can do is whine at first when her cunt hovers out of reach, and there’s no point in hiding the desperation written all over your face, because she senses every bit. The mischievous laughter and giggles get more and more infuriating when those dripping pussy lips graze your mouth, but she doesn’t keep up this game for long, because the temptation to let you feast becomes too strong to fight.

Once Yujin eventually puts her weight down on you, smothering your face with that soaked cunt, it's like you can finally breathe again once you’re allowed to taste her, and the need for oxygen no longer feels all that necessary. You give her wet entrance the most tentative of licks, savoring the taste that lingers on the tip of your tongue when she grinds against your mouth, which makes you groan right into her, and you just need more.

Can you breathe, daddy?” Yujin asks, not in concern, but a playful little tease when her cunt presses harder against your face. It’s a question devoid of any importance right now, but you shake your head as she keeps lowering herself on you just right, letting you bury your tongue right into the source, and she uses those sinfully soft thighs to squeeze your head like they’re never going to let go.

Yujin moves without an ounce of haste, working at a deliberate tempo so she can savor all those sensations at once while she gets her hands all over the back of your head, keeping your tongue buried between her wet folds. She’s just loving the way you’re desperate to devour her cunt, licking as much of her as your tongue can reach, tasting all that tangy slickness when it flows right into your mouth. This is the perfect spot for you to be, getting her off while you suffocate between those thighs, drowning in her arousal that clings to your lips and keeps trickling down your face.

The real fun happens when Yujin starts to roll her hips, when she’s dominating your face, suffocating you with all her weight. Her cunt drools right on your tongue, soaking every corner of your mouth when you hit the right spots, then she begins to really use your face, tangling those slender fingers in your hair, and grinding on your mouth to further entice your appetite. “Oh fuck, right there, daddy—keep that tongue out, keep making me feel good. You love eating my pussy, don’t you?”

A rather pointless question, one that gets answered with frantic licks instead of words. There’s no greater honor than pleasuring Yujin, and she doesn’t hold back anything when she grinds those powerful hips on your face, fucking herself on your tongue until it leaves an absolute welcome mess on your lips. Yujin loves the attention, having a perfect sense of control, and your sole purpose is to work your tongue through that wet cunt, providing your mouth that she can use to her heart's content.

Yujin clutches the headboard for stability, hips moving with such force that she’s using you like a toy to fuck your face, and all you can do is keep your tongue flicking faster to keep up. She tastes so fucking good, even when you can’t gather up all her nectar into your mouth, the rest spilling out in sticky streams that flow down your chin like a delicious, seemingly endless fountain.

And all the noises she makes, the way she groans, whines on your tongue, all that breathless panting as her body writhes in ecstasy sound so unbelievably sexy, that makes you want to lick her cunt forever.

“Gonna—gonna cum hard, daddy,” Yujin cries out, your favorite words to hear while those hips move on their own. She gets right on that edge, keeping your head still, and she’s almost there, so close, that you can literally taste it—

“Daddy!”

Yujin tenses up when that climax hits, her cunt gushing all over your face. It’s all flooding your tongue, lips, and everything in between as she squeezes her thighs like a vice around your head, just riding those endless waves of bliss that you hope never end.

You’re rather disappointed when she slows her hips, even if it lets you savor the shower of arousal that’s blessed your face. The biggest surprise is how it’s rather calm—because you know firsthand that Yujin can climax like a hurricane. When it all passes and she gets her breathing back under control, you’re a bit too eager during the aftermath, cleaning up wherever you can, while she’s still dealing with the aftershocks, with only enough energy to play with your hair.

Once Yujin catches her breath, she lets out those adorable giggles again while she stays right there on top of you, and takes her sweet time getting off your face, getting a good look at the absolute mess she’s made of you. “Look at daddy all covered in me…”

Yujin is barely even panting, which isn’t that unexpected given how relentless her stamina is, and you’re more in need of recovery than she is. Still, it doesn’t stop her from leaning in to take a kiss before she licks the side of your face, tasting herself all over you.

The words come out muffled when Yujin says, ”Daddy, you taste so good.” She finishes cleaning off her mess until all she leaves are those affectionate kisses alongside your jaw, because she’s never really done with you.

“That’s all my Yujin—“ you stop yourself mid-sentence, realizing the words that just left your lips, nearly choking on them. It’s the sort of thing that just slips out in the heat of the moment, when your mind is too fogged over and consumed with Yujin’s lingering taste. You can tell you've made a mistake when her eyes widen, but there’s no backtracking now—not when you’re this flustered.

Before Yujin can say anything else, you seal her lips with a kiss, one that’s supposed to end in an instant—but she locks in that embrace, keeping your lips captive into something much more prolonged. You know it’s fruitless to disguise your vulnerability when there’s nothing that can wipe that stupid, smug grin off of her face, and after what feels like forever, you’re both just staring for what feels like forever, until Yujin breaks the silence with the most endearing little laugh.

“What was that, daddy?” she questions, and there's an innocent blush on her face when she surrounds in that intense eye contact, but there’s no chance that’s going to have you repeating what just slipped out.

“Nothing,” you mumble, as if Yujin would be satisfied with that response. You know there isn’t anything that will get you out of this, but it won't stop you from trying, looking off to the side to avoid the intense eyes staring a hole through you. Yujin’s a woman with impenetrable defenses, and she’s not going to be distracted easily, holding your face between her palms to prevent your gaze from averting.

“Daddy…”

Yujin pouts with that cute puppy face that isn’t remotely fair, and it doesn’t help that she’s cutely rubbing your cheeks with her thumbs, trying to coax an answer out of you. The power in her gaze never falters, and when she realizes you have no plans to cave, she leans into the crook of your neck, grazing those warm, full lips right on your neck to get those juices flowing again.

“Yujin—'' You want to at least attempt a show of protest, but she’ll know it isn't even half-hearted when her hand cups the back of your head, as she fully latches her mouth onto your neck. It's that special little area that always makes you melt, and you're just lost in her touch, how that warm, wet tongue traces just the right spots, and then she grabs something hidden underneath a pillow—

You only get a moment to glance at a set of light pink, fur-covered handcuffs before Yujin restrains your wrists to the headboard above, leaving you helpless with no choice but to indulge in her desires. There’s an expression on her face that’s all so familiar, but there isn’t enough time to think when Yujin kisses down your body, licks a nipple while flicking the other with her thumb, then travels down your abdomen, sucking marks wherever she can on your skin.

“Our little Wonyoung got to have you inside her all day yesterday, didn’t she?” she asks, that jealous, possessive tone laced in every single syllable, but the question isn’t really intended to get a response. “How many times did you cum inside her? Three? Four?” I can only imagine how pretty her pussy looks when it’s dripping your hot load…”

There’s not another word from Yujin’s lips while she keeps marking your body with her mouth, as she works down to your thighs, spreading them apart before kissing every single spot she can get her lips on—and you’re already getting so hard with just a handful of kisses alone.

The worst part is you can’t even touch her, which makes you tug your frustrations out against the metal around your wrist that prevents you from doing so. It’s already so much to deal with, because Yujin can be the biggest tease, the cutest brat, and the sexiest little demon, all at once—you know you’re in for a long ride.

“But now, daddy,“ she starts, and there’s a different tone to it when it rolls off her tongue. “I get to keep you all to myself. I get to have your amazing cock filling me, pumping my pussy full of that thick cum.”

Those words are enough to drive you insane.

You can feel the hot breath on your thighs that’s she’s kept open, but she hasn’t touched your cock that’s throbbing inches away from her face, only kissing everywhere but where you need, a directionless assortment of pecks that’s only meant to torment.

“You look so good in handcuffs. And now, you’re—all—mine.”

The kisses on your thighs stop just as fast as they start, and then she caresses them, keeping that blood flowing into your loins. Her nails scratch against your skin for some extra stimulation, not enough to cause pain, but to draw your attention from what’s next. “I need you to cum again.”

Every single word Yujin says drips out lust like honey.

The mere sound of her voice puts you on edge, and Yujin sounds so breathless when she squeezes your balls, rolls them between her fingers as your cock twitches for her. If that wasn’t enough, she dips her head down, making nothing but the most shallow licks through your sack, which is more than enough torture—because you can’t even lay a fingertip on her beautiful skin, can’t run your fingers through her hair, you’re so powerless to do anything but squirm and fight against your restraints.

“Your balls feel so nice and heavy, and your cock—“ Yujin pauses as she grabs your shaft by the base and squeezes. “This beautiful fucking cock just belongs inside me. It deserves to fill me up, god—I just need you to breed me again and again, daddy…”

You’re hesitant to say anything that can give off a reaction, since Yujin’s gotten you so riled up that any little thing will set you off, so you remain silent, just letting out a sigh that she manages to still hear. It’s all she needs.

“You need me on your cock, don’t you, daddy? Because I need that thick cock pumping those hot loads, filling my cunt deep.”

It’s a rather redundant question, but that doesn’t stop Yujin from slowly running her hand up your shaft, giving a squeeze at just the right places. She moves nice and slow, feeling your entire length as it throbs under her touch, then takes her thumb to stroke that sensitive part just underneath the head, making the tiniest circles to make you jerk against your restraints.

“Please, Yujin,” you gasp out, long past the point of desperation. She just keeps massaging the swollen tip of your cock, spreading precum everywhere, and you’re fucking leaking like a faucet, but all you want is for her to ride you, to take you so deep until you’re on the verge of exploding—

But you know there isn’t going to be any mercy when she keeps up those little, teasing touches all over your sensitive head, then wraps those fingers around your shaft again, giving it a light stroke, another squeeze, and she just holds it.

“I love seeing you this hard,” Yujin says, stroking down to your balls, giving them a gentle fondle to draw out some more of your frustration, then returns back up to your tip, getting all that precum that oozes out all over her fingers, using it to coat them while she licks it off.

All this teasing is not only doing a number on you, but Yujin, who cuts her plans to indulge herself short. Her hand speeds up the strokes, pumping up and down your entire shaft, giving your head the most generous amount of attention, and then she lets it all go—lets it smack against your abdomen.

“Gonna ride the fuck out of you, daddy,” she growls, and it sounds like both a promise and a threat, but you’re just happy she’s moved past torturing your cock, watching with bated breath as Yujin aligns herself with your length, grabbing it at the base to position it right against her slit. You can already feel the heat emanating from her dripping folds that kiss your aching cockhead, as she positions herself into a squat, spreading those legs wide, and it’s all so close in reach—that you’re just begging for her to drop those hips.

Then Yujin raises herself just enough to place your tip against her entrance—and there isn't any warning or moment to get prepared before you sink into her warmth, all at once, just until her ass rests on your lap, until every single inch is swallowed up by those velvety walls.

"Oh my god," Yujin groans, and rolls those hips in your lap, savoring that fullness inside her pussy before she even thinks about lifting herself back up. It’s slow and methodical, the first agonizing movement she makes—a long, slow rise of her hips that gets held a little too long before she makes her descent, impaling herself on your shaft, making herself all perfectly stretched out.

Yujin starts riding with all the power in those shapely thighs, fucking herself onto your cock, and you can feel that silky grip take over, the one that squeezes so fucking tight that you hope it never lets you go. It’s the best reward Yujin can give you. You’ve earned it you think, for enduring everything Yujin has thrown at you, and with each stroke of her hips, you feel those wet lips of her slit tightening up, glazing your cock in all her juices when she raises up again, just to slam down hard, burying you in that intense heat.

It all repeats over and over, while the frustration never ends, only being able to watch it unfold, and it’s like she’s taunting you with the use of her hands, playing with your chest, digging her nails against your chest, teasing your nipples before her hands just run all over you.

“Yujin—“ you moan, the first thing that leaves your mouth in quite some time, and it sounds so unbecoming, so pathetic, because you're so, so desperate to get your hands all over those sexy curves, get your tongue all over her beautiful skin. Those hips keep the momentum rolling as they crash against you, the sound of her supple asscheeks making a resounding smack whenever they collide against you, and Yujin rides you just like you’ve yearned for, in a state of peak euphoria, like you're all hers to use for as long as she wants, for as long as she needs.

Being forced into this passive role, it has you more pent up than you can stand, only able to watch your cock get swallowed up to the hilt, without the ability to touch a single inch of that toned body, and Yujin knows it. She’s executing this devious plan of hers to perfection, because she sees the annoyance in your eyes, that you’d give anything to squeeze that perfect ass, lift her up and make her take more of you, but you can’t—and she fucking loves that more than anything.

“Daddy, you like this, right? You like watching me fuck you? Watching me stretch myself on your thick, throbbing cock, fuck—you’re going to make such a huge fucking mess inside me.”

Yujin moves those hips with such ferocity that it gets your breathing all heavy and uneven, becoming a struggle to keep up with that dizzying pace that gets your moans going, getting every last inch deep in her pussy. Her nails dig into your chest like she wants to etch her name there, as she squeezes that perfect little cunt around you, taking you balls deep like it isn’t even a challenge, and nothing gets in her way of doing so.

She fucks herself like there’s something to prove, like you didn’t already know how good Yujin is at riding cock, and then shows off just how wild those hips can really get, starts to fuck you harder than you can comprehend, taking it all to a new level as that body keeps up a brutal pace.

There’s nothing for you to do other than lie there helplessly, but what’s there to complain about when you have the best view of how your cock disappears into Yujin’s suffocating heat? You can feel every orgasmic sensation, those juicy lips that grip so fucking well, and they might never let you go.

“God, Yujin—“ you breathe out, and you can’t even finish a sentence at this rate. Yujin is fucking your cock so fast that the slap of her ass against your crotch becomes hypnotic, the obscene sounds of her dripping cunt being impaled mercilessly get so fucking loud that it almost drowns out any noises Yujin makes.

It’s fucking beautiful to watch how hard those hips can bounce, and Yujin isn’t showing any signs of slowing down, quite the opposite—she’s just taking advantage of your body, riding your cock like she fucking owns it, taking that girth as deep it’ll go. Not a single fucking inch of it gets neglected through those suffocating slippery depths, as she uses you like her own personal toy, and you’ve never been more proud to be treated as such.

Yujin’s so intent on making you hers, leaving scratch marks on your skin as a display, like she wants to really drive home who owns you, and when she takes every inch you have to offer, there’s absolutely no breathing room—and you wouldn’t dream of any. Those careless motions keep herself stretched out, so you can see how much your cock disappears into her pussy, how wildly her breasts bounce with each pump of her hips, how the sweat just runs all down that beautiful body that you wish you could lick clean.

“Daddy, your cock—feels so good, feels so fucking good when you get this deep in my cunt. I’m gonna make you fucking breed me,” Yujin says, and she’s so drunk on lust that her words are slurring, her face a mess of sweat that makes her look even more all too irresistible.

Through the thick of it all, Yujin leans in, demanding your lips, and her kisses are so wet and sloppy that there’s hardly anything left but lust in them. She takes every chance to slip her tongue in your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip every so often just as another show of dominance—a display to make sure you know she’s still got the reins until she pulls away, resuming her focus on taking your cock like a champ.

“I’m gonna make you cum,” she says with such conviction, nothing less than a guarantee, when she takes both your cheeks in her hands, looking deep into your eyes that show every bit of compliance.

The look she flashes nearly gets you creaming inside right then and there, and Yujin looks absolutely depraved. With each sharp drop of those hips, you jerk harder against the handcuffs that shackle you, and it’s only getting tougher to breathe. Yujin only gets tighter and tighter the rougher she gets, putting more aggression into those movements—the harder your hips collide, the faster she goes, until it’s unbearable how good it all feels.

“Daddy’s gonna pump all that hot cum inside me until I’m all nice and filled up.” You’re already too close to comfort to respond with anything but a moan, and you have to grit your teeth just to hold on whenever that pussy tightens, whenever Yujin takes you to the hilt.

And then she hits her climax out of nowhere with one last drop of her hips, a tsunami with no prior warning. She braces herself on your chest, but it’s not enough; she’s shaking, shuddering, legs quivering as she throws her head back, moaning your name, and it’s just so wet—

That greedy little cunt grips tight, tighter than you can bear as Yujin keeps climaxing on your cock, and the waves hit one after the next, making her shriek and scream—but you’re just tugging on your restraints hard enough to leave more marks as you try to hold back from exploding inside that warm velvety heaven.

Yujin’s selfish for more bliss, even before her body can settle down, she’s frantically rubbing her clit to expedite another explosive climax that rips through her body with such ferocity that your cock slips out of her heat—and then she’s violently squirting all over your stomach and crotch, her juices raining down your body in a torrent. “Fuck, fuck, oh my god—“

All at once, that gushing between her legs splashes down everywhere, showing no plans to relent as her legs threaten to give out underneath her, and the sounds that spill out of Yujin are just as unstoppable as the mess that showers you, until her entire body is a shaking mess. The spasms rocking her don’t get any easier to manage, not unlike your cock that twitches in pathetic throbs from the loss of her heat, aching to be sheathed once again.

There’s no pause for Yujin to rest, even if her legs can’t stop trembling, she goes straight to shoving you back inside her at the right moment, because there’s only a modicum of time to spare when she resumes the vigorous riding of your cock, picking right back up where she left off.

“Give me all that cum, daddy, need you to blow that fucking load deep in my cunt. Come on, I know you can’t last any longer. Breed me, breed me, fucking fill my womb, daddy.” Yujin couldn’t sound any more demanding if she tried, and there’s nothing to stop the floodgates from bursting open when your balls tense up, eager to flood her insides.

That’s the last set of words you can comprehend when she slams her hips down one last time, purging every remaining ounce of restraint from your body.

All that’s left to do is groan in ecstasy when her slick, pulsating walls milk that load right out of your cock, pumping it inside Yujin, like her pussy has been begging for it for days. That first spurt is always so intense, and it shoots so fucking deep that your toes curl like crazy, leaving you on the brink of blacking out. There’s just so much cum that gets released into that hot little hole, and you can’t stop moaning her name on your lips, bucking so desperately in the air, while Yujin just keeps rolling those hips, extracting every single drop of that thick seed, and fuck, it feels like there’s so much more left in those balls to drain.

Yujin can just feel your entire body trembling beneath her, how that hot cum fires into her, and she can feel how you throb, your entire shaft twitching when she milks it for everything she can, taking all those spurts that fill her to the brim, until you have nothing left to give.

You’re so fucking drained to the point of feeling delirious—three orgasms in as many hours as you’ve been awake is a lot to endure, but there’s not a thing left in your aching balls, and Yujin knows it. Even with that endless stamina, you think she might finally let you rest when she finishes out the tuckered out gyrations that keep you buried in her sticky folds, clenching around you to earn the last remaining spurts that leave you lightheaded.

“There's so much in me, my pussy just feels too good not to fucking fill up, right? And it feels so good to be daddy’s perfect little cum dump…”

Her cunt doesn’t leave a drop left to spill out, but that’s not going to stop Yujin from keeping your cock nice and hard inside that warmth, while she grinds in slow, tortuous motions to let your climax ride out for as long as possible.

When her hips finally settle and there’s nothing but exhaustion from your lips, Yujin leans forward to move the hair from your sweaty forehead, then runs her fingers through it to help you catch your breath, even as your eyes struggle to stay open.

“Your load feels so good inside me, daddy,” Yujin says, and there’s hardly any fatigue in the way she’s speaking. “It’s just so warm, my pussy feels so full. I made you cum a lot, didn’t I?”

There's a sense of pride in her tone as her hips give one last pump on your spent cock just for good measure. All you can manage is a weak, muffled groan, but that's all Yujin needs, because the satisfaction on her face couldn’t be more obvious when she brings those perfect lips to your own, taking a long kiss that feels like there’s some finale to this all.

Heavy as they feel, you keep your eyelids from falling, just so you can take in Yujin’s beauty, from the sheen of sweat on her soft skin, to the strands of hair sticking to her forehead, and how she looks when her lips curl into this beautiful smile you’re almost certain has a hidden meaning behind, but you’re going to enjoy it anyway.

The end of the line of this all has to be within reach, you figure, (at least you hope), so there's only one thing left for Yujin to do, and the anticipation has never been higher. With widened eyes, you intently watch as she sits up, lifting her hips off you until your cock regrettably slips free of that hot vice—then you’re left with the perfect view of that huge creamy load spilling out of her messy pussy, oozing down her sweaty thighs.

Her slit looks so glistening, and those lower lips are such a fucking mess when your seed drips out of her, but it’s so enticing you can’t look away, not wanting to miss a second of the spectacle.

Yujin spreads her legs a little wider to show you her cum-filled pussy, how it leaks down to the sheets, and then dips her hand in between those thighs, collecting your messy load that you’ve given her, or rather that she’s taken from you onto her fingers, fucking it back into her folds before bringing them to her mouth.

It’s all such a filthy sight that it keeps you hard and throbbing, seeing Yujin lick her fingers clean, humming in delight like it's the best meal she's had, before shoving her fingers right back in her cunt to scoop up more. She keeps giving that thick, gooey load another taste, and Yujin just looks so pleased with herself.

That same look doesn’t dare disperse when Yujin takes her time to crawl over your body, inch by inch, until it fades into something more wicked—and then she seizes your cock, jerking it off hard and fast, because she knows how fucking raw and sensitive it is.

“Fuck, Yujin—god, oh my god, please,” you cry out, but Yujin just keeps stroking away at your overworked length, with nothing but sadistic pleasure etched all over her face. There’s hardly any bliss left in those furious strokes, it’s just pain and pleasure, competing back and forth, with the former sure to take the lead soon enough.

“You're not all tired out are you, daddy?” she asks, with that same grin clinging to her lips as she grips harder around your shaft, squeezing a harsh fist around your tender cockhead, drawing out every ounce of overstimulation. There’s no energy left to protest, and it’s not like anything you would say would convince Yujin anyway.

“I said I was going to keep milking your cock, so come on, daddy—don’t you have more cum for me? Don’t you wanna blow another load?”

You open your mouth intending to plead her to stop, that your cock is too fucking sensitive, but all that comes out are sounds that don’t resemble anything even close to words, nothing but loud, embarrassing whimpers and whines that you can’t hold in. There’s little you can do but lay there as Yujin refuses to stop stroking your cock, looking you right in the eye with that cocky little smile, like she still has a point to make, ensuring every frantic pump she makes is a cocktail of agony and bliss.

“Doesn’t this feel good, daddy? Having your cock jerked off while you stare at my naked body? You can’t be that sensitive if you’re still so fucking hard,” Yujin taunts, with a grip long past painful, and that fucking grin isn’t going anywhere.

Those devilish fingers just keep pumping, keep torturing your cock, sliding over your shaft as Yujin squeezes with so much intensity that you’re barely cognizant of how much every stroke hurts, but she’s prepared to send you towards yet another release that your balls don��t have to offer.

And just like that—in record time, you’re blasting whatever is left from your balls in the short time they’ve filled back up, shooting all over your stomach, glazing your abdomen in this thin, watery semen that doesn't even compare to the previous pleasure Yujin has drawn from your body. But she’s so greedy she won’t give a damn, because milking out such a pitiful, measly load like that still gives her all the satisfaction necessary.

At the very least, Yujin cleans you up, because those pathetic clear strands that splatter across your abdomen belong to her, and she wouldn’t dare let them go to waste. Her tongue drags all the way across your stomach, dipping down to your balls, before flicking up to your cockhead, cleaning off your unbearably sensitive slit.

Yujin spends just enough time using her tongue to play around with your cock to drive you up the wall, licking wherever she can, and then she seals those greedy lips around your swollen head, applying the harshest suction she can muster. You’re not sure what she’s doing can even be classified as pleasure anymore, and it’s all making you squirm so uncontrollably that you’re liable to break those cuffs.

The littlest touch sets all those sensitive nerves ablaze, making you almost blow another load when her mouth slides down to your base, and Yujin just holds you there in her warm throat—one, two, three. It’s just mere seconds, but it all feels like an excruciating eternity when she comes up with a messy pop, planting a parting kiss on your oversensitive tip that’s just dying to be left alone.

She stalls for a moment, letting the anticipation really linger—then out of nowhere, she lets go of your helpless cock as it gets that chance to rest against your stomach.

Yujin doesn’t do anything else, but keep that fucking smug look on her face.

And you’ve never been so relieved.

Yujin swings her legs around your hips, playfully messing up your hair more than it has been. Beads of sweat still cling to her body, but she doesn’t even look the slightest out of breath. “Daddy—“

There’s another pause before she offers up the rest of her thoughts.

“Oh hey, there you two are.”

It’s Wonyoung. Because of course it is. She’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and god knows how long she’s been there. Based on her wet hair, she’s fresh out of the shower, with a white towel wrapped over her petite figure, but still somehow manages to bask in elegance.

Wonyoung takes one look at you on the bed, in your pathetic state of recovery, but unlike before, there’s acknowledgement straight away when she then turns her attention to Yujin. “So that’s why you weren’t answering your phone…”

Yujin looks over her shoulder and smiles at Wonyoung. “We've been a little preoccupied."

"I can see that.” Wonyoung takes a couple of steps inside the room, and looks so amused at the sight of you bound to the bed, her gaze shamelessly wandering along your naked body. “Well, since none of us have class tomorrow, I thought we should all go out for dinner. Get a couple drinks in us without having to worry about being hungover for early morning lectures.”

The last thing you want is to venture out of this apartment, especially in this state of exhaustion, but there’s such excitement in Wonyoung’s eyes when she speaks that you couldn’t fathom turning her down.

Yujin looks back at you, and all you can give is the weakest nod of approval. “Let me get daddy out of these handcuffs, and then we’ll get cleaned up.”

An eerie silence fills the room when the cuffs come off, and you feel like you’ve risen to the surface for air, even though your wrists are rubbed raw and sore. Yujin rectifies this by kissing them with the most tender smacks, massaging her thumbs into your reddened skin, and it feels a little strange to regain the use of them after being without them for so long.

Now, the messy sheets underneath your bodies should probably be tossed—there’s no saving something so stained with copious amounts of sweat and other bodily fluids (yet another reminder that, god, Yujin just squirts so much), and it’s not like she doesn’t have an infinite amount of similar expensive sheets with a matching pattern in her linen closet.

“You know, daddy looks good in handcuffs…” Wonyoung says with a cheeky smile, as she edges closer towards the bed. Between the two women, they share a knowing glance, one that makes them both giggle out loud at once, leaving you a little terrified of what they’re both thinking.

“What are we in the mood for?” Wonyoung thankfully changes the subject to focus back on food, something you’ll never pass up an opportunity to indulge in.

“There’s this new steakhouse that we should try. It’s on the other side of town, but—“

“Oh, I love steak!” Wonyoung says, interrupting the older girl, and again, there’s just so much enthusiasm in her bright voice.

“Steak it is then.” After Yujin dismounts your body, not a single one of your muscles wants to cooperate when you try to lift yourself up. Yujin can’t help but let out a pitiful laugh as she offers assistance, though it ends up being more of a struggle to try to support your dead weight when your limbs refuse to move in tandem with your thoughts.

“You really did a number on him, huh?” Wonyoung asks when she settles beside the older girl on the edge of the mattress, making it dip with the added weight.

“It’s nothing daddy can’t handle.”

That sass in Yujin’s tone is all the motivation you need to lift yourself up, and then, before you know it, you’re on your feet, albeit with wobbly legs that feel like they’re made of jelly.

It’s strange how natural it feels to be in the middle of Yujin’s bedroom, fully naked, while your two pretty roommates sit and stare at your nude form like a piece of meat. The marks on your wrists won’t fade for days, but it’s the least of your worries right now, because the thought of a nice, juicy steak makes your mouth water almost more than Yujin herself.

“…Are we getting cleaned up or not?”

Asking Yujin that is a dangerous gamble, but you know that Wonyoung will keep you on schedule, as you’ll never hear the end of her complaints if you keep her waiting.

“I’ll get myself dressed and wait in the kitchen,” is all Wonyoung replies with, the hem of her towel flirting just above the curves of her ass when she departs. It’s enough to rile up your imagination, but you keep those thoughts suppressed.

Because you’re sure there’s going to be a lot more where that came from before the night is over.

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