#Doesn't help the fact that they always capitalize the letters in the paper so it gave me a headache even looking at them

[chewysgummies]

Callback to the time where my elective (Spanish class) in highschool almost fucking screwed me over and made me think I have to attend summer school for it even though I managed to pass that class cause of a message I got. Fuck that teacher bro 💀

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #13] Work of Art

warnings: jaykay discovers boobs! we rejoice! wahooo!! okay so this entire chapter is basically titty worship (no titty sucking (sad)). lots of paint. curious art. shower (again) mutual masturbation (for realsies this time) jaykayyy aka my dream man. the chess plot device is born! the mirror kink is also born! WE THRIVE!! Still one of my fave chapters, some would argue we peaked early!!

soundtrack: vibez- zayn

wc: 11.8k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Why did you write it like that?"

"Like what?" you say, coming to sit beside Jeongguk at a pair of easels towards the back of the room. The last few tasks were carried out by the pair of you, Jeongguk insisting on helping despite the fact he had no clue really what to do. You'd ended up asking him to move a couple of boxes you couldn't reach just to appease his need to lend a hand.

He looks at your bird once more, and holds it open for you to read again. You knock your head to the side and shrug.

"Guess it's just how I feel about it."

"Like screaming?"

"Kind of," you laugh. It's written in just the same way as the last one - full capital letters, zero context, and more exclamation points than any one person should use. "I guess it's like... a big one for me?"

"How big are we talking?" Jeongguk asks as he looks at it again. It's just a single word, but he knows there's more to it than meets the eye. There always is with you.

You pull one of your feet up to the chair and wrap your arms around your knee. The apron you'd been wearing earlier is up on a hook, and Jeongguk finds the simplicity of your outfit all very intriguing. You're monochromatic, which isn't much of a surprise, in a large white shirt and black slacks. The caps of your hightops peek out from the hem of your trousers, and a satin scrunchie is around your wrist instead of in your hair.

You're lacking a little sparkle. There's still some across your lashline, and little specks on your skin that your makeup remover hadn't managed to get, but what with the paint and the two showers you've had since the paint party, there's really not all that much left.

He wonders if there's any glitter glue in the art supplies. Thinks you should just use that instead. You're really not quite yourself without it.

"My ex was a tittie guy," you say, and Jeongguk's eyes widen as if he'd forgotten the topic of conversation. You laugh. "Is it really that much of a surprise? Ass guys are hardly gonna go for me."

"Your ass is fine," Jeongguk says. He means it as a compliment, but realises 'fine' isn't the way to ever really describe a woman's assets - and so he corrects himself. "Good, I mean. Your ass is good."

There's a look of disgust on your face as you question why on earth he's been looking at your ass, which causes him to roll his eyes. There really is no winning with you.

"I'm an ass guy," he shrugs.

"Doesn't give you any right to look at it."

"Oh give over," he laughs. "It's literally just a body part. No different to me looking at, I don't know... your wrist. Something like that."

"Well, it depends," you argue back. "Are you into wrists?"

Regretfully, the answer is yes .

"I don't know!" Jeongguk protests when you grill him for how the fuck he can be 'into' wrists. "They're just dainty! And pretty! I don't know! It's not my fault."

You narrow your eyes, and hide your exposed wrist behind your knee. He looks at you with a poorly hidden smile, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. His lip ring always dances along his peachy bottom lip when he does so, and it makes you laugh - but you're still feigning disgust.

In all honestly, you like your wrists. Would put them in your top five for your physical attributes. Completely understand why he would be into wrists, just like you're into forearms. You like arms that feel safe.

Kind of like his.

But still, he's an ass guy.

"See, this is why you and I would never work," you tell him, and nod to the piece of paper he's still holding, adorned with a singular scribble:

!!!!! TITS !!!!!

"We want different things," you clarify. "You're after a good ass, I'm after a guy who knows how to handle a pair of tits."

"Hey! That's not fair. I never said I didn't know how to handle them," he scoffs - although now he comes to think about it, he's not sure he actually does. "Like, sure, maybe my exes have all had great asses, but they all had a pair of tits, too. I'm not opposed to a pair of tits."

"Yeah, but there's a pair of tits, and a pair of tits , yanno?" You say, using your hands to really emphasise the point. "Anyway my ex really liked them."

"So?"

"So, I really liked that he really liked them," you shrug. It's painfully obvious to you, but Jeongguk is still a little confused. "I just... The idea of someone else doing what he did to them just... makes me wanna run, yanno?"

"The fuck did he do them?" Jeongguk laughs.

"Nothing obscene," you smile, though when you think about it, perhaps 'obscene' is the only way to describe how much he enjoyed them. "I guess it's more so that it was always a part of sex? Most guys I've been with pick and choose whenever they want to deal with them, but with him..."

You don't mean to trail off, but fuck. You're thinking about Seokjin, how his plump lips would trail down your throat. He'd inhale the scent of your perfume and fucking whine, only stopping to latch himself to your nipples. Would spend more time on your tits than he would any other part of your body. Spent so long once that he made you orgasm from the simulation of it all alone.

And so now they're off limits. It doesn't matter who it is. The second someone reaches for your bra, you shake your head, reposition their hands, and pretend you hate your tits being touched. It's not like it's an unreasonable lie. You know it's one of Danbi's least favourite forms of foreplay. If anything, she'd be a good match for Jeongguk. In fact, now you come to think about it, she's got a cracking ass from all of her dog-walking.

Maybe you should cool the deal off. It's highly likely they're compatible. Fucking around with Jeongguk would only complicate things in the future if they discovered that themselves - but you know Taehyung's interested in her, and Jeongguk hasn't given any indication of interest further than friendship with her.

It's not like this is anything beyond friendship, you reason with yourself.

Jeongguk stays quiet as you work through your thought process. Assumes you're skimming through traumatic memories. Doesn't realise you're actually playing matchmaker in your head for him and your best friend.

"But with him?" He asks.

You're drawn from your thoughts. Feel a little guilty. Wonder if you should really be doing this - not for your sake, but for his.

"Are you sure about this?" You ask, ignoring his question entirely.

"About?"

"Doing my birds?"

He purses his lips - and now he feels guilty, too. Funny, how you're both more concerned about one another than yourselves.

"It's entirely your choice," he says. Doesn't want you to feel pressured into it - but it just makes you feel like he feels pressured into it.

"No, but, that just feels to me as if you don't want to," you tell him. "And like, that's totally fine, if you don't, but-"

"Byeol," he says all rather plainly. "I'm the one who suggested it. If I didn't want to I wouldn't be here right now, would I? I sought you out. I came here. This is all on me."

The worry on your features softens, and he's pleased to see you smile again no matter how subtle it may be.

"Only thing I will say is that I don't actually know what 'exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, tits, excla-' "

"Gguk, you don't have to say every single exclamation point."

"Right," he nods. "Well, that. I don't know what that exactly entails."

And truth be told, nor do you. So you just sigh. Press your lips together a little tighter than usual. Think about it for a moment. Draw a blank. Furrow your brows.

Jeongguk looks just as perplexed as you. He's looking away, trying to find inspiration in the room around him - and when his eyes land on the 'gallery' wall where there are imitations of famous works, an idea comes to mind.

"So this is all about separating physical acts from emotional intimacy, right?" He says, and when you nod, he continues. "So what if we do something that involves-" he laughs, because he's a child. "-touching your tits-"

"Real mature."

"Shut up. We'll do something that involves touching your tits," he has to pause so that he doesn't laugh, but you're grinning too. Just as immature as he is. "But something that isn't sexual at all."

"Alright," you muse. "I'm listening."

"You got any black paint?"

You narrow your eyes. Turn your nose up a little. Question if he's lost all of his brain cells. "Jeongguk, this is an art cafe."

"I didn't wanna just assume," he feigns offence. "Are there security cameras in this place?"

"Only by the front entrance. None into the studio area."

"Okay, good. Go get some black paint and I'll get the blinds."

"No blinds," you say, nodding over the windows. "Chiffon curtains. If we turn the main lights off and just keep the lamps on, it should all be obscured. Let's just... not be too close to the windows - and what's the paint for?"

"Will tell you in a bit," he says as he heads to the windows. "Chop, chop, Byeol. We've got a fear to overcome."

You stay as you are for a moment, watching him with unrivalled wonder. There's an enigmatic energy to him that makes it seem as if he's the one constantly covered in glitter, not you. It's quite alarming that this is Jeongguk operating at half capacity. His confidence was knocked quite considerably after his heart was broken, and he's yet to recover. You know this. Know that's what his birds are all about. Know that once you've worked through them with him, he'll be an unstoppable force of nature.

In the time you've known him, he's been nothing but an angel. Cocky? Yes. A little petulant? Make that incredibly petulant. And yet he's a joy to be around. Shines without the need for artificial sparkles. You envy it. Wish you could emulate it.

It's as you're getting the paint, and a few extra supplies that you'll figure you'll need - some brushes, some washcloths - that Jeongguk begins to explain himself. He's drawing the curtains shut, glancing over at you every few words just to check you're paying attention.

"So I saw a video the other day - something to do with easy Halloween crafts, don't ask - and there are two options for you. One of them is quite literally painting your tits and pressing it against a canvas-"

"You are not painting my tits."

"Noted. The other one was way more family-friendly," he says, before he mulls it over and changes his mind. "Kinda. Maybe. It's a skeleton hand shirt."

"Okay..."

"It's super simple, one person covers their hands in paint and basically just grabs the other persons tits-"

"Does that mean I can grab yours too?"

"I don't have tits, I have incredibly defined pecks," he states rather sharply. "Please rephrase the question, Byeol."

You just grin. "Can I grab your tits?"

"No."

"Boring."

"Look," he smiles as he walks over to the easels where you'd been sat before. He turns the chair and sits on it backwards, arms resting over the back of it. There's a casualness to the way in which he carries himself. One that you quite enjoy. "This is a quick, easy and totally platonic way for you to have your tits touched, and it not be sexual at all."

"It'll just ruin my shirt."

"Or not," he says as he nods up to the wall where canvas sizes are displayed. There's also a plain tote bag and white tee pinned to the wall, still up from a promotion put on during the back-to-school season. It had been Hoseok's job to take them down, but he'd just broken up with his girlfriend at the time and had spent the entire week face down in the back room - getting him to do anything had been impossible - and so they remain as they were. "Would your boss notice if one went missing?"

You shake your head. Your boss really has no clue about the day-to-day goings on.

Still, you're hesitant. "If I get fired-"

"Then I'll fire Yeonjun and you can have his job," Jeongguk bullshits. If he was gonna fire anyone, Yeonjun would be the last to go. "C'mon, you gotta stop stressing the small stuff, Byeol."

You're making excuses. You know you are, and so does he.

"Can we at least do it at your place?" You ask. It feels rude to invite yourself to his apartment, but it's honestly probably where you feel most comfortable. It's where the birds are, and it feels like a sanctuary for your fears. When done in the confines of his room, you're able to shut them away and never think about them again - at least not until you return.

Jeongguk thinks it over. He's got no problem with it, just isn't sure if Jimin is in. He tells you as such and is met with a shrug.

"If he's in, he's in," you say. "We can just say we're working on planning an event for Tae's exhibition, say that I'm using you for cheap labour."

"Oh shit yeah," Jeongguk gasps, suddenly reminded of the fact Taehyung had been here with a purpose. "How did it go? You think your boss will approve."

You nod. "Don't see why not. It's a solid pitch and we haven't held an exhibition in a while. I have some contacts saved up from our last couple of shows so can get together a guest list for the opening night."

It's more than Taehyung would have hoped for. The painting cafe is unassuming, in a way, which makes it a great underdog location for hosting such events.

"Sorry to have sent him here without warning," Jeongguk adds. "I wasn't even sure if you did things like that."

"Not often," you admit. "I really enjoy them, though. I'm always keen for more."

The pair of you gather up your things and head back to Jeongguk's place, talking about his friends, and their careers. You learn Taehyung is an artist by night, but a teaching assistant by day, which makes his love for arts and crafts all the more sweeter, you decide. Jimin works at a local interior design firm, which suddenly makes so much sense considering the books you remember being on his desk when you were bent over it.

Namjoon works at the local off-branch of the national paper, with a focus on environmental reporting, which is how he'd met Yoongi, who works as a sustainable carpenter, specialising in local woods and materials. Running his own studio, Mins , he'd done a promotional interview a few years back around the time it opened, and had then introduced Namjoon to the rest of the boys.

Their friendships run deep, and it's nice that Jeongguk is so willing to share that part of his life with you. The way he sees it, you're well on your way to becoming a part of the group, too.

When you arrive at Jeongguk's place, he enters first.

The shower is running, loud enough to obscure any noise of his arrival, so he ushers you in and straight to his room. The sneaking around is getting a little old already, but he figures soon enough it will be commonplace for you to hang out with the both of them.

Jimin isn't naive to your friendship, he just isn't aware quite how friendly you've become.

And so you keep your voices down, even when the pair of you are trying your hardest not to laugh, hands covered in paint, neither of you wanting to be the one who goes first. He's in a black shirt, so your hands are covered in white paint. You're in white, so his hands are coated in a layer of black paint instead.

It's stupid and it's juvenile, but also incredibly sweet. You appreciate how much Jeongguk tries to ease you into things. Baby steps.

"No, no," you whisper. "I'll go first. On you. Easier that way."

He knows it will make it no more difficult nor easy no matter who goes when, but he understands what you're saying. It will make you feel more comfortable. Of course, he obliges.

"Stand behind me," he says quietly. "Can you see in the mirror?"

"Not really," you say. His back is broad and he's obviously far taller than you, which pretty much obscures the entire mirror. If you lean around, you can see part of it, but it makes it harder for your to get an equal placement on his chest.

"Okay, just stand straight. I'll guide you."

The way he knocks your hands into position, mostly because his are also covered in paint, is just as gentle as the tone of his voice is.

"Three, two, one," he counts down. "Now press."

You do as you're told and are confronted with potentially the firmest pecks you've ever laid your hands upon. Sure, Seokjin had a body built like a God, but Jeongguk? Jesus Christ. He must be something entirely... unhuman.

"Anddd pull away," he whispers. The shirt sticks a little bit, but as your hands peel off, Jeongguk smirks. "Your hands are so small."

You take great offence to this for absolutely no reason other than to bicker with him. "Says you!"

"Sorry?"

"You don't exactly have massive hands," you goad him, seeing if you can get a rise out of him, and as if by magic -

"Turn the fuck around, Byeol," he says, almost forgetting the volume control. You do as you're told, grinning like the smug little bitch you are. "Don't have massive hands? I swear you say shit just to piss me off."

"Who me?" You feign innocence. " Never ."

"Yes, you," he laughs, but he makes no attempt to reciprocate the shirt creation. Instead, he holds back. Wants to make sure you're okay with it. You tell him you are, but he still doubles down on confirmation. "If it's too much at any point, just say."

You nod. Wonder if he can see the beat of your heart running through your veins. He can't. But he can see your eyes in the mirror, and recognise the trepidation they're drowning in.

"You ready?"

And again, you nod. Exhale. "Ready."

He's tentative in his approach, palms wide, fingers outstretched. He lets his palms rest on the sides of your chest first. You stop breathing for a moment.

"You okay?" He checks, to which you nod. "Okay, Byeol. We're going at your pace. The second it's too much, you let me know, okay?"

He waits for your go-ahead, and then lets his fingers squeeze into the softness of your chest. He sort of assumed he'd eclipse them like he always has done with his former partners, but he doesn't quite manage it with you. It takes him by surprise. Stops him in his tracks. Makes you nervous.

"Gguk?"

Whatever trance he's in, he snaps out of it. Realigns his focus. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod. "Are you?"

"Yeah, yeah," he parrots back. "Just being careful."

"It's fine," you smile. "I'm not a porcelain doll - and this is fine, actually."

"It is?"

"Mhmm. This isn't half as bad as I thought it would be."

"You're welcome."

You laugh, and tell him to shut up. He squeezes ever so gently around your chest, and as much as you hate to admit it, a fucking moan is lodged in your throat. You don't let it out. Don't want him to know it feels electric having his hands on you like this. God, it's nice . It's good . Comforting. That's what surprises you the most.

You've spent so long avoiding contact like this, that you had forgotten why you liked it so much in the first place.

In fact, you find yourself pouting ever so slightly when he pulls away, revealing two black handprints cradling your tits. His is the reverse, white paint on a black shirt.

"See," he smiles. "Told you it was cool. When they're dry, we can go in with markers and outline the skeleton shapes."

The pout on your lips as you look at him is sweet, eyes full of wonder. He thinks he's only ever seen you like this when you're drunk. It's all hazy, and it's like the glitter that's normally on your cheeks is in your pupils instead.

Silence resumes in his room, both of you conscious of Jimin milling around in the kitchen. Jeongguk tells you to take the shirt off - "be careful, don't let the paint touch anywhere else" - so that it can dry properly.

It's as you're both standing there half naked with your backs to one another, that he's caught off guard.

"Let's do it."

"Hmm?"

"Let's do it," you repeat. "That first idea. The canvas. I packed one just in case and I... I didn't think we'd need it - but it wasn't entirely horrible, and-I-think-I-wanna-see-if-maybe-"

"Byeol," Jeongguk laughs, cutting you off, but doesn't turn around to face you. He's still trying to be as respectful as he can be. "Breathe. If you wanna do it, we can. No biggie on my part."

"It's a biggie on my part," you say quietly.

Jeongguk frowns. Doesn't like how vulnerable you sound. "I know. It's okay. We can make it not a biggie."

Your mind races at a mile a minute. You've not let anyone other than Seokjin touch your bare chest in such a long time. The idea of Jeongguk doing it now makes you feel nervous, but you're ready for it. Ready to feel renewed. Ready to finally fucking let go.

"How do you want to do this?" You ask, because one decision is enough for you. You'd rather let him be in the driver's seat, now. Leave your destination unknown. Leave it up to him. You're just here for the journey. Here for the ride.

"Can I turn around?"

"Yeah," you say. You don't mind him seeing you like this - you're shirtless, but you still have a bra on. He takes a second to look at your back; how your spine trails down it. Wonders if there are dimples at the bottom of it. They'd be hidden by your trousers now, and he doesn't really remember checking after the paint party.

He shakes his head, ridding himself of the thoughts, as he heads to the curtains and draws one of them shut. The other curtain remains open, but neither of you will be standing in front of it, so he doesn't think it matters all that much.

Jeongguk comes to stand behind you, turning you to face the mirror. His hands are on your shoulders, still a little paint-ridden, but nothing that bothers you.

"So I'm thinking," he says quietly, eyes on yours in the reflection as he toys slightly with the bra straps over your shoulders. "That this comes off."

You swallow so hard that Jeongguk thinks you might choke. You don't.

But you also nod.

"Is that a yes?" He checks for consent.

"It's a yes."

His hands are slow as they stroke down your back. He's not really thinking. Just working on auto-pilot. This isn't about him. It's all about you. What you need. What you want.

"Then, I think we need more paint," he says, his fingers working to unclasp your bra. You feel the tension ping and release, and you think you might have a heart attack. He notices the change in your breathing. "If you need to stop, you just say, okay? Tell me okay?"

"Okay," you nod, knowing you're in the safest hands you possibly could be.

"What will you say? Give me a word. Something obscure. A safe word."

You shake your head and shrug, trying to think. "I don't know - chess?"

Jeongguk laughs, knowing exactly where your eyes must have been focused - on the shelf by his desk, where his chess set sits undisturbed. "Okay. Chess."

"Chess."

"Just say it, and I'll stop."

You're silent as he reaches over for the paint, and tells you to toss your bra on his bed. The click of the acrylic bottle opening and closing beats in time with your heart. Jeongguk's warming the paint between his hands, trying to make this as comfortable for you as he possibly can.

You're entirely bare from the waist up, and don't take much comfort in the fact that he is too. It feels a hell of a lot scarier for you, and you both know it.

"I'm gonna touch you now," he says, and waits for you to nod. You close your eyes. Bite on your lip. Wait for the contact - and when his palms softly connect, your brows knit together. Jeongguk watches on, apprehensive. It almost looks like you're in pain, but as he begins to spread the paint over your breasts, they ease. "That okay?"

You nod. "It's okay."

When you open your eyes, you avoid looking towards the mirror. You look down, look away - and Jeongguk notices. He nudges the side of your head with his own. Realigns it. Encourages. "Watch."

He speaks quietly, the dulcet tone of his purr just loud enough for you, but untraceable to anyone outside the room. He doesn't want Jimin to hear. Doesn't want Jimin to know.

It's not that he was lying when he said Jimin wouldn't care - he genuinely believes it'd be no issue, especially with context provided - it's just that he hasn't figured out how to explain it. The girl you shagged a few months ago? We're friends. Pretty good friends, actually. And I'm touching her boobs to help her get over a fear. Totally normal.

Jimin's fully aware of the friendship. Knows you've been in the apartment a handful of times. Jeongguk never hides it from it; just tells him after the occasion. He doesn't mind.

In fact, Jimin quite likes your company whenever he bumps into you. Is quite glad you're not weird around him just because you've had sex. If anything, it gives him high hopes that maybe you'll be up for round two on the nights he can't find anyone else. To be honest, it'd make you the perfect candidate for a friends-with-benefits type situation with him. He hasn't had one of those in a while.

He doesn't share this thought process with Jeongguk. Isn't sure how well received it would be. See, Jeongguk's been incredibly vocal about how embarking on a friends-with-benefits situation is potentially the stupidest thing a person can do.

He'd lost his best friend - the girl he could have spent his life with - that way. Hasn't spoken to his favourite person in months because her new boyfriend doesn't like her hanging out with people she used to fuck. Makes sense. He can't argue against it.

He can think about it in the quiet hours of the early mornings, though, and weep a little out of frustration with how fucked up the best thing in life became.

There's a naive hope within him now that thinks he's fixing his previous wrongs with you. Doing things he's already done, without taking it too far, this time. A broken heart can't fall in love, after all. It's different.

Your eyes land on his; dark and frightfully deep. He's not sure what you're thinking. Tells himself it's better that way.

"My hands," he corrects. "Eyes on my hands, Byeol. Watch what I'm doing."

It takes you a moment to pull your eyes from his - and when you do, something about it feels catastrophic . Paint covers the skin of your chest; only a few small gaps of exposed skin are still on display. He squeezes. Moves his fingers. Doesn't specifically aim to cover those spots, but know it's the end goal.

There's a muffled moan hiding in your throat; revelations of a lost pleasure that you've refused to let yourself indulge in.

"Gguk-" you begin, but he hushes you.

"Just feel it. Watch it."

And so you do. His chin rests on your shoulder, watching your body, keeping an eye on the way your heartbeat begins to calm, yet races all the same. The ink on his hand is hidden by the paint, his forearms just as much of a mess as your chest. You fight your instincts which tell you to close your eyes; to lean into his touch.

The moan that's made it home in your throat decides it's been trapped for too long. It tickles at your lips, vibrates into the room. You catch it with a gasp, and Jeongguk can't help but let an airy smirk fall from his lips.

He never thought you were kidding about how much you liked it, but it's different seeing it in the flesh. There's an insolent nature to his teasing, and it makes you want to fucking whine.

"How does it feel, Byeol?"

Your eyes flick up to his, your lips resting ajar. The heaving of your chest is far easier to see when he stops massaging your chest. You smirk back at him. Roll your eyes.

"You don't wanna know," you tell him, because as much as he tried to make out that none of this would be sexual, your body doesn't agree.

And honestly, nor does his.

"No," he says, closing the minuscule gap he's been keeping between his crotch and your ass. The corners of his lips twitch upwards when you feel it - feel him - press against you. "I think I do wanna know."

His smirk is laced in sin, dark eyes hazy, as your chest begins to stutter all over again. You bring your hand to rest over one of his. Encourage his movements. Let your eyes close. Don't hide the moan that travels through you.

"I thought you said this wasn't gonna be sexual," you eventually say a little breathlessly. You encourage his movements still, just to let him know you're not entirely opposed to it.

"It's not," he purrs against your ear, and presses himself against you again, a little firmer this time. His breath is hot against your skin as you lean your head back, a laboured grunt stuck now in his throat. You can feel his heartbeat against your back.

You let your eyes rest on him in the reflection. Take a moment to read his face, and decide you've no idea what this man is thinking.

Truth be told, he's not really having any cognitive thoughts.

"You're hard," you tell him.

His eyes rest shut, a bashful smile on his giddy lips, neck turning ever so slightly to rest his forehead against your hair. And then he whispers, "Don't tell me you're not wet, Byeol."

"Mhhm," you moan with a little humour. "Dry as the Sahara, buddy."

"God, if my hands weren't covered in paint-"

"You'd what?" you interrupt with a sardonic smile. "This isn't sexual, remember?"

He scrunches his face up. Looks at you. Looks at your chest. Looks away from the mirror, and down to watch his movements. He alters his pace, playing with your tits just for the fun of it, seeing how he can toy with them. It might not be what usually gets him keen, but he can see why you attract boob guys; can also understand why your ex would keep coming back if he is a boob guy.

"You ever do this to yourself? Like, for fun?" He asks, ignoring your last question, seemingly hypnotised by the overspill between his fingers, and the way it jiggles for him.

"Like non-sexually?"

"Mhhm," he says as he repositions himself. Cups the undersides of your boobs. Lets his thumbs flick against your nipples. You moan in a way he hasn't heard before. Does it again. Same result.

"Fuck," you hiss. "Yeah, I do it - fuck, Gguk - for fun. Not like this though. This is-"

"Just for getting you wet?"

Yes.

"I'm not wet."

"Such a liar, Byeol."

His fingers pinch, gently clasping at your nipples. Has you mewling. Has you amazed you haven't been letting anyone do this during sex. You've been making yourself suffer to solidify your heartbreak. Maybe if you'd have been fucking people how you like to be fucked, instead of using it as a tool of validation, you'd have found the whole thing a bit easier. Or perhaps not. Perhaps you'll never know.

"Are you trying to make me wet?" You challenge, eyes on him, watching the way he's watching himself.

He shakes his head. Nestles it against your hair. Likes the scent of your shampoo. Inhales a little deeper. Is breathless when he rasps, "just helping out a friend. How your body reacts to me is its own problem."

You scoff. "My body's reaction has got nothing to do with you."

"No?" His grip tightens. You whine.

"Gguk-" is all you can manage, chest heaving, heart in your throat. Your back is arching, pushing your chest further into his grasp.

He's about to mock you; about to tease you a little more. Make some dumb remark, you sure, something that will have you fighting back against him - but it's interrupted.

"Hey, Jeongguk?" A voice shouts from the living room. "You in?"

The way Jeongguk pulls away from you is so abrupt you almost lose balance. He pulls a shirt from his chair, chucks it in your direction without looking back and darts for the door at such speed, you wouldn't be surprised to see him in a comic book like one of his damn figurines.

He opens the door just a crack, keeping you hidden, ignoring the fact his door handle is now slathered in black paint - the corner of his pristine white wall, too.

"Hey," he squeaks as Jimin stops in his tracks. He'd just been about to reach for Jeongguk's doorhandle to invite himself in, but the look on Jeongguk's face tells him to stay away.

Jimin raises an eyebrow. "This isn't suspicious at all."

Behind Jeongguk's head, Jimin can see his bed. It's made, not disturbed in the slightest, but the way Jeongguk is guarding the room makes it incredibly clear he was up to no good. It's all very amusing. Just out of his eye line is your bra.

"Was just letting you know I'm off out," he smirks. "But I'll leave you to it. Don't think I'll be back till morning, so stay safe, young padawan."

"Right," Jeongguk purses his lips, not wanting to give Jimin the satisfaction of confirming nor denying anything.

Jimin doesn't care to watch Jeongguk squirm. Would rather let him get back to whoever it is with him in his room. The kid's been out of action for so long that he's frankly pleased to see him acting so shifty. He's never known anyone who needs to get laid as much as Jeongguk does. Hopes this means he's finally over the last girl.

He turns on his heel, but calls back, "don't forget to wrap it up! Can't be arsed with baby-proofing the apartment."

"Jesus Christ," Jeongguk mutters as he closed his door. He rests his head on the frame for a moment, before turning his head to find you in a state of absolute horror.

"Gguk!" You whisper, eyes wide, heart thumping into your chest. The shirt he'd thrown at you is still on the floor because it's a white shirt, and you weren't stupid enough to actually pick it up. You kick back across to his chair, hands covering your chest without touching them. You don't want to end up as messy as he is.

Jeongguk strides across to you with a scrunched-up face and just moves your arms, laughing to himself slightly as he cups your breasts in his hands. He holds them firmly. Squeezes an apology. Admittedly, you do feel more protected like this.

"Shush, shush," he coos quietly, a stupid smile plastered all over his face. His hands are temperate, but they squeeze at you a little as his shoulders lift ever so slightly. "He's not out the door yet."

There's a pause as you both wait with bated breath. There's a faint click, which Jeongguk knows is the front door going, so he nods. A second click follows.

"You're safe," he laughs, and you can't help but laugh, too. Your hands instinctively come up to cover your chest, but his hands are already there, so you drop them again. His forehead rests against yours. His frivolous energy is contagious, the pair of you breathlessly giggling at the weird fucking situation you're in. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you shake your head, keeping your forehead against his, almost brushing your nose with his. "Not your fault."

"Got a little carried away, though," he whispers, his smile fading as he harshly swallows back. "Should've tapped out. I should have said chess."

You shrug. Whisper, "takes two to tango."

The moment lingers. Wraps you both up in a ribbon, and ties a bow where his hands meet your chest. Safe and secure. A memory to be tucked away under your list of bad decisions, but for the moment, you'll convince yourself it was a good idea. You're not thinking of Seokjin, at least, and that was the real goal.

"Let's finish this off," he says, nodding over to the canvas. "We need more paint, though. I'm pretty sure I've literally, like, moisturised it into your skin. I don't think that's a good thing."

"It's definitely not a good thing," you cringe, knowing that your pores must be screaming beneath the acrylic. You wait for his grip to leave your chest, but it doesn't. It's only when you raise a brow and shake your head at him that he realises.

"Oh, right, yeah, yeah."

It's a lot more clumsy this time round. Jeongguk's second-guessing himself, almost as if he hasn't just spent God knows how long grappling with your tits. He laughs, and so do you, the pair of you finding every little thing hilarious. Perhaps it's nerves, or perhaps you're trying to play this off as something totally normal between friends, but either way, you think you're glad you're with him. Glad he took a chance on your birds.

"How do we even do this?" Jeongguk hums in confusion when he holds up the canvas. He puts it in all kinds of positions, but can't seem to figure out the best course of action. You tilt your head and mull it over.

"Gimmie it," you say softly, holding your hands out to retrieve it from him. His palms have left prints on the edges, but it doesn't matter. Turning to the mirror, you can't help but smile at how much of a mess you are. Such a stupid idea, and yet it's worked perfectly. "Okay, stand behind me again - keep your boner away from me this time, though."

"My God, I don't even have one anymore," he whines, and it's true. It's just a semi.

"Sure," you tease, but begin to instruct him further. "Hold them, like, underneath. How you did earlier. Yeah, yeah, that's it," you nod.

His long fingers support the base of your breasts, his thumbs resting on the sides. Chin on the top of your head, it's a lot less intimate than it had been. This, you think, could be argued as non-sexual.

A momentary lapse in judgement is fine, and that's what you'll chalk earlier up to.

It's not like there are set rules to this whole arrangement. Mistakes will be made; bad decisions, too. What matters is that you don't make the same ones twice.

"Okay," you muse quietly, holding the canvas up to your chest, trying to line it up perfectly. "I'm gonna press down. Keep still."

Jeongguk doesn't dare move. Too scared you'll notice his semi and tell him off for being a randy bastard. It's circumstantial. He's never spent so long holding a pair of tits. It's just... hormones. Maybe. He isn't really sure.

Pressing the canvas against your poised chest, you apply as much pressure as you can, trying to get the imprint. You're mumbling affirmations of a good job to yourself - "Okay, good. Just a little more. Little more pressure, c'mon." - before pulling it away.

It almost peels, the paint a little tacky, but sure enough, the imprint is there, and pretty damn perfect if you do say so yourself. A pleased, albeit a little surprised, laugh escapes your lips.

"Oh, that's fucking cool," Jeongguk beams. "Looks like one of those inkblot tests."

He's not wrong. There are two well-defined black circles, the imprints differing ever so slightly, smudging outwards. To you, it's plainly obvious it's a pair of tits - but then again, they are your tits. It's a lived, breathed experience of yours. Anyone else looking might mistake them for something else.

"Mmm," you agree. "What do you see?"

You're holding it up in front of you, blocking the mirror from your view. Jeongguk's head dips to your shoulder, where his pointy chin rests but you don't complain. One of his structured hands eases, slipping to a more natural grasp on your boob, while the other drops. It slinks around the front of your waist, his forearm keeping your back pressed against his chest.

"Big ol' pair of titties," he says in potentially the most childish voice he could have chosen. You pull away from his grasp and give him a look of disgust. "Sorry, I mean... not a pair of tits?"

"You're a fucking child, Jeon," you scold, to which he tells you that he's actually very mature and you're just being a boring old bint. Turning back around to study it a little more, you tilt your head. It's missing something. Jeongguk's grasp on you had never fully eased, but both of his hands rest now at the dips of your waist. You pay it no mind. "I think we should add to it."

"Watcha thinking?"

"Not sure," you muse. "It is a little bit too obvious."

"So you're saying it does look like a big pair of-"

"Oh my God," you groan, walking away from him and to where the paint is sitting pretty. "Lie down."

"Sorry?"

"You heard me. Lie down."

You don't look at him as you say your commands, instead you spend your time picking between the paints. The silver is your favourite, but as much as he likes to wear it in the form of jewellery, you know that gold is his colour. It's the one that suits him best - or at least, suits who he is.

He's hesitant, but he does as you say. He lies on his back horizontally across the bed, like how the pair of you do when you look at the birds, one of his arms resting over his stomach. He looks up to them now, no smile on his lips, but an overwhelming sense of contentedness.

Before you, he used to look at the birds and feel guilt. Was harbouring feelings that he'd told everyone he had let go of. They're still there, but they're diluted. Too much of you filling the empty spaces for him to dwell on the birds made for her instead.

You come to perch next to him on the bed, sat on your ankles as his gaze falls to yours with great curiosity.

"What are you doing, Byeol?"

With a smile, you say nothing - just uncap the paint lid, and turn it on its end over the top of his chest. He doesn't object. Just watches you quietly. Patiently. Hisses when the chill of the paint comes into contact with his skin, but lets you do as you please.

Capping it shut with a click, you reach over to put the paint on his bedside table. Still shirtless, Jeongguk watches the way your tits move, and doesn't even try to hide it.

"Eyes up here," you say as you regain full posture, but he keeps his eyes on your tits.

"Can't. Hypnotised."

You're laughing as you roll your eyes. "Such a liar, Mr 'I'm an Ass Guy' ."

He finally looks at you, almost in horror, thanks to the accent you just did impersonate him. "Is that how you think I sound?!"

"It is how you sound," you tell him, knowing that you should have deepened your voice. Instead, you'd deliberately raised it a few octaves. "I'm a voice actress in my spare time," you lie. "I've been told I have perfect pitch on many occasions. That was an exact replica of your voice."

It's said with such a straight face that it would be believable if it wasn't for the fact that Jeongguk does have perfect pitch. His music teacher always tried to make him pursue a musical career, but he was fearful of failure. Didn't want to put himself out there just to get rejected.

"I can't believe I'm friends with you," he mutters as your finger begins to draw over his chest with the paint. "Most annoying girl I've ever met - shit -" he winces as you flick his nipple, his hand coming to rub at it almost immediately. "Byeol!"

"Hmm?" you smile. "Sorry were you saying something?"

He says nothing, just narrows his eyes at you as you get back to work, spreading the paint over his chest.

"We've already got an imprint of my tits," you muse, pressing the metallic gold into his muscles, quietly in awe over his physique. "And now I wanna get an imprint of your tits, too. Over the top of mine. I think it'll look cool."

"You mean my pecks?"

"Yeah, sure," you say. "Your tits."

"They're pecks!"

"Okay?"

"One of those birds better have 'fixing my attitude problem' on them," Jeongguk huffs, but it's all in good humour. You tell him your attitude is golden - just like his tits are. "They're fucking pecks!"

Reaching over for the canvas, your golden palms are just clumsy as his had been, leaving little marks on the edge of the canvas. Laughter fills his room as you try and decide how to place it, with the pair of your twisting and turning the canvas to try and figure out your best bet. You don't want to obscure your tits entirely, but his chest is broad.

"Don't think you thought this through," Jeongguk teases. "You just wanted an excuse to touch my chest."

You flick his nipple again.

"Jesus Christ! One more time and I'll-"

Oh��, how you love a threat. Can't wait to see if it's a promise.

And so you flick the other.

"Right, that's it."

It'd be a lie if you said you knew exactly where he flung the canvas - you were too busy trying to avoid his grasp as he got to his feet - but there are only so many places you can run to in his room.

In fact, you only actually get about three steps away by the time his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his grasp. The paint on his chest is slick against your back, but he doesn't really think about it as he turns you around, pressing you up against the window that doesn't have the curtain pulled shut.

His large hand clasps both of your wrists, holding them above your head just to keep them away from his damn nipples. The chase was minimal, the catch far too easy - and yet you're both breathless. Chests heaving. Your nipples are gilded in gold. He's far too fucking close.

"Gguk-"

"What did I say about flicking my nipples?" He looks down at you, desperately trying not to smirk. The anger he's feigning is convincing, but even if he was furious, he's painted like a chryselephantine statue. In all fairness, he's got the body to match. A Greecian God if you ever did see one.

"Can't help it," you pout. "Your tits are just so perky."

He doesn't even insist on the fact they're pecks this time. Just lets his eyes drop to your tits, then back to your eyes. Repeats this four or five times. Shakes his head.

"If that's the metric we're going with, Byeol, then you're well overdue half a dozen nipple flicks."

"Nooo," you whine, squirming to get out of his grasp. He doesn't let you immediately, but ultimately decides it's for the best. Needs to calm himself down. Can't be having another repeat of the night before.

As soon as his grasp eases, you bolt away from him, and retrieve the canvas from the foot of his bed. He notices the gold on his window, and ignores it. Will deal with it later. It's an easy fix. A logical one.

For now, he's got a half-naked force of a woman in his room that he doesn't know how the fuck to deal with. No logic, no reason, no rhyme seems to help him figure you out.

"Please can we finish the canvas?" you say sweetly, as if you haven't been the one derailing things every single step of the way.

He says nothing. Spread his arms wide. Beckons you forward.

Pressing the canvas to his chest, you throw all of your deliberations out of the window. You don't really care for the outcome, now. Just know that the pair of you need to not be topless anymore.

It's platonic, yeah, but it is tempting.

The canvas peels much like it did when your impression was made, the paint tacky on his skin. The pair of you are dumbfounded as you take in the result for the first time.

It's fucking beautiful .

Metallic gold weaves around the black, overlaying ever so serenely, creating an abstract interaction between the shapes.

"What do you see now?" you ask softly, quietly proud of your creation together.

"I see a masterpiece," he grins, and that arm of his that likes hooking around your waist so much finds its favourite spot once more. His chin is on your head. "And you know what else?"

"What?"

"Look there -" he points to a small 'v' shape, just above the imprint of your chest that's free of gold. "Looks to me like a bird."

"Holy shit."

"A fear set free," he muses.

"Well done us," you beam, holding your hand up for him to high-five. He does so with ease, before reaching for the canvas and propping it up on his desk.

"C'mon," he grips onto your shoulders. Eases you forward and to his bedroom door. Reaching round to open it, he lets his hands fall to your waist, and then back up to cup your tits as you walk together. "Shower."

"Are you ever gonna let go of them now?" You laugh, finally pointing out just how bloody handsy he is.

"Don't think so."

"Brilliant."

He eventually does let them go as you're both washing your hands beneath the tap of his bathroom sink.

"Got a little paint in your hair," Jeongguk says as you're drying your hands. He goes to twiddle at it in an attempt the break the dry paint down. It's not a lot, but it does mean you'll need to wash your hair to avoid the bleached strands from staining.

"Shit," you curse, knowing that Jeongguk definitely won't have any silver shampoo, nor will he have anything more than a bog-standard conditioner.

"Hold on," he says, moving you to the side to rummage in the cupboard beneath the sink. There's a small clatter of bottles as he pulls a basket from the back of the shelf with a triumphant smile.

It's a grin that's quietly pleased, lips thin, pressed together, lip ring flipping in that way which always makes you smile. The basket itself is just as interesting as Jeongguk's face - a myriad of coloured tubes, and lo-and-behold, the same brand of silver shampoo you use.

"Jimin had a phase," he explains. "Well, no actually, he's had a few - but this is from the coloured hair phase. You need the purple shit, right?"

You nod. "The purple shit."

"Take what you need," he says as he gets back to his full posture, leaving the room only to return a moment later with a bottle of conditioner in hand. You know the brand. It's pricey. You only buy it when it's on sale. You furrow your brows, and he just shrugs. "I keep my good towels out of the bathroom, Jimin keeps his good conditioner out of it instead."

It's funny, 'cause you do exactly the same. Danbi has been blessed with hair from the Gods, so never has to pay much attention to what she uses. A string of bad dye jobs and unhealthy heat habits have left you with a deep conditioning complex, and there's nothing worse than going for a shower and realising the conditioner you paid and an arm and a leg for is all gone.

Will this stop you from using Jimin's special conditioner? No, absolutely not. You care more about your hair than you do about his annoyance.

"How are we doing this?" You ask casually as Jeongguk starts the shower up.

"Well," he contemplates far too hard for the sentence that follows. "I think we get in the shower, and then I think we... shower?"

"Right," you nod, as he grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Silly me. Of course it's that simple."

"Well it can be," he shrugs. "We both know we didn't really do the shower bird to completion, and aren't we saying 'fuck it', now? So why not?"

He's got a point. You feel far less on edge about the whole showering thing since the last time. It's like you've been working through it in stages, and it's helped.

"So..." you say quietly. "I don't know about you, Gguk, but I normally shower naked."

He just shrugs. "Really, Byeol? Do you not think we've already crossed that boundary? I'm quite literally staring at your tits right now."

You look down to your exposed chest, and suppose he's right.

"Just... don't look, okay? You get in the shower first and like, face the wall or something."

As much as he thinks you're being ridiculous and that it really doesn't matter, he agrees. Your birds are, after all, all about you, and what you're comfortable with. Just because he is doesn't mean you will be.

He strips down, and discards his clothes into a pile. He'd be lying if he said he was entirely confident, but he definitely feels the pressure a lot less than you do.

"I'm in," he says encouraging you to follow suit.

Against your better judgement, you do.

You toss you trousers on top of his, panties too, and make your way into his shower. It's warm, just the right temperature, still set to Jimin's preference from earlier.

"Now was that so hard?" Jeongguk asks, still facing the wall.

"No," you say airily. "I can see why you're an ass guy."

He turns his head, and sure enough, your eyes are on his ass. "Double standards."

"It's really good," you say, a little in shock at just how toned it is; how you'd kill for yours to be as peachy as his. "But you're right, you're right - I'm sorry."

"Can I at least turn around now?" He asks. "Seeing as you've already broken rule number one."

"What rule?!"

"Looking! You set the bloody rule!"

"Oh yeah," you grimace. Part of you considers turning around, but in all honesty, you don't want his ass-loving eyes to fall on yours and be disappointed. "Um, yeah. Sure. You can turn."

He's cupping his balls as he does so, hiding himself. It's sort of sweet in a way, and matches your own awkward stance.

"C'mon," he says, knocking his head back, encouraging you further into the stream of water. "Need to wash you off."

"You need to?"

"Well, yeah? Only fair. I'm the one who got you like that." He senses your hesitation, and offers you an out. "Or you can do it. I don't mind either way."

And for some reason, you don't actually seem to mind the suggestion. "Go for it."

He steps a little closer. "Say the word and I'll stop."

You reach for his hands. Lift them to your chest. "I don't think I'll say it."

He begins to massage at them, easing the paint off ever so gently, but it's stubborn. "Could do with some shower gel. Scent preference?"

"Hmm, strawberry?"

"Great choice."

You still find the fact he has more than one shower gel on the go hilarious, but you enjoy having a choice. It's one of the fantastic things about Jeongguk; you're never backed into a corner. He'll always give you an option. A way out.

And yet as he gets reacquainted with your chest, you don't think you want one. The things that scared you before - forgetting Seokjin, losing his touch - seem like a world away. Yes, it's different with Jeongguk, but it doesn't mean that it erases what you had with Seokjin. It also doesn't mean that you have to subject yourself to a life of boring sex just because you're harbouring guilt from a relationship breakdown that really wasn't your fault at all.

Seokjin had strayed, though. Made you feel like there was something wrong with you. Had you questioning the things you thought he'd loved about you - your tits included.

Seeing how Jeongguk - a self-professed ass guy - reacts to them has been so validating. So needed. Will do you wonders in the future, you're sure.

It's as he's kneading at your tits that you notice he's becoming a little moany, too. A little unstrained. God, it's so satisfying.

He closes his eyes. Rests his forehead on yours. Squeezes around your tits as he swallows so harshly you think you can almost hear it. Nods, and then says, "Still an ass guy - but fucking hell, Byeol. You might convert me."

You laugh now, and Jeongguk is obsessed with the way your boobs slide beneath his fingers, sopping wet and moving in time with your body. He still doesn't open his eyes.

"Fun aren't they?"

Again, he just nods. Doesn't wanna think about anything too hard.

If he does, he knows he'll have to deal with the fact his cock is now hard, too.

He thanks the high heavens that you just aren't mentioning it, because there's no way you haven't noticed.

It's not like he meant for it to happen. One moment he was trying to be respectful, and the next all he could think about it how soft and warm they are in his grasp. Was all beyond his control.

Thing is, Jeongguk has no idea how hard it is for you to resist reaching down for it. It feels like second nature; like it's what you should do.

But it's a boundary that's still intact, and you'd like to keep as many of those as possible.

So would he - but he's fucking solid , throbbing, balls tight. Can't remember the last time he got like this. Sure he's been hard. Been horny. But this is on another level.

And so he just says fuck it.

Tells you so.

"Byeol if I don't cum in the next five minutes I think I'm gonna die."

His admission takes you by surprise. You want to laugh, but remain deadly serious as you say, "I think you'll be fine."

"No," he insists. "I will actually die."

"How?"

"Ruptured ballsack?" He grimaces. "I don't know, but I do know that my life is quite literally flashing before my eyes right now."

"Poor baby," you pout, and stroke at his hair just to wind him up a little bit more.

"Don't," he whines. "I'm one more sarcastic comment away from sucking your tits just to shut you up. You know how many pairs of tits I've sucked?" He doesn't wait for an answer. " None . Always thought it was weird. But now? I'm so horny I'm literally delirious. Willing to do anything ."

Yeah right, you think.

"That's not very platonic of you," you state, using the exact tone of voice you know is winding him up.

"Byeol, I said one more."

"One more what?"

"God," he lets out a tortured sob. "It's like you want me to suck your tits."

"Me? Want that? Never ."

"But it wasn't on the bird," he says, as if the birds really do dictate every single one of his actions. "Can't do it."

"In all fairness, Gguk, nor was anything else that happened tonight. It was literally just the word ' tits '."

He tries to think straight, but he really can't. Doesn't know what's come over him. Maybe he's just tired. Maybe he just never knew how much he liked tits. Either way, he's absolutely done for.

He runs his thumbs over your nipples, and - fuck - the way you moan really does have him wanting to take them in his mouth. It's always been a no-go for him. Always thought the concept was a bit weird.

But it's all he can think about, now.

All he wants.

"Oh my god," he whines, again, obviously going through a little inner turmoil. His forehead drops to your shoulder. "Why do I want it? Why do I wanna suck your tits?"

"Mummy issues."

"Byeol! You're not helping."

"Just get yourself off," you laugh. "Once you get the orgasm out of you, you'll be able to think straight."

He nods. Knows you're right. "What about you? Do you need to?"

You've a much better grasp on your desperation than he does. You're a brat through and through, and find it hilarious that men seem to think they 'tame' you. In reality, you're the one who calls the shots. You're always in control. Just let them think they are.

With Jeongguk, you've not needed to play up for him, so you don't realise how unaware he is of the fact your inner thighs are coated in your slickness.

"Can do," you shrug.

"That's not a yes."

You roll your eyes. "Look at me."

He does as he's told, and you decide very quickly that he would be so incredibly easy to turn into your bitch if you wanted him to be. It's cute. His lips are parted, brows pushed together, a crease forming above his nose. He really does look like he might die. Poor baby.

Dipping your hands to where your legs part, you run two fingers along your folds, and hold them up for Jeongguk to see. You separate your fingers, the clear fluid suspended between the two of them. He whines again. Rests his head on your shoulder.

"The bird," he says. "The bird that we kinda did, but didn't do."

"What of it?" you toy, knowing exactly what he wants.

"Can we?" He rasps, unable to get his sentence out. One of his hands is on your chest, the other pressed flat to the tiles beside your head. His cock is desperate for contact. His hips are pulsing against nothing. If he doesn't grip onto it soon, he's gonna rut too far and end up touching you.

"You wanna get off together?"

He just nods. Mewls. "Please just give me the green light, Byeol. Please ."

And as much as you want to keep fucking with him, it feels cruel now. His veins are engorged, flooded with blood, in desperate need of him to do something - anything - to have his heart beating normally again.

"Okay," you whisper. "Get yourself off."

He doesn't waste a second. Has his hand around his cock by the time you've finished the sentence. The change in his breathing is stark. There's a moan caught with every tug on his cock, his hand moving at a speed you didn't was humanely possible.

And it excites you.

Has you clasping the tit that he isn't currently holding onto for dear life, while your other hand sinks to your folds. You're soaked , clit throbbing, begging for even the faintest bit of attention. When Jeongguk hears you moan too, he thinks he's done for. Holds his cock so tight he's scared he'll ruin his orgasm.

You know your body though. Know how to get yourself off within a minute when duty calls.

"Keep going," you tell him. "I can get close."

"That quickly?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"Women are magic," you say between pants, dipping your fingers into your entrance for a little bit of fiction to your g-spot, just enough to really get you there.

"Fucking magic," he husks, his body edging a little closer to yours. You don't mind. In fact, you think you'll prefer it, so you let go of your chest and encourage him to close the gap. Your hand is on his waist, pulling him closer. He looks up. Regrets it, 'cause he never needed to see you looking like this. Doesn't ever wanna fuckin' look away. "Sure?"

"Mhhm," you moan, unable to get a word out because of how close you are - and then you can feel the tip of his cock press against your stomach, just below your ribcage. His movements are frantic.

"I'm not gonna last."

"Then don't."

His forehead rests on yours, the pair of you breathing so heavily that you're basically surviving on one another. Inhale, exhale. You're one and the same.

"Oh, fuck," you mewl, so incredibly close. Your fingers massage at your pussy just how you like it; spank against your clit a little, tease it to the near point of no return. "Gguk, I'm about to-"

"Me too," he chokes. "Where?"

"It's fine," you husk, knowing he's asking where to cum. "It's okay. I don't mind."

"Sure?"

"Just cum, Gguk."

"Shit."

The release is just as undignified as the build. The pair of you are messes, whining as you come undone together. The voltage runs from the tips of your toes to the tops of your fingers, so intense that they go fucking numb for a moment. You're overstimulated almost as soon as it hits, unable to do anything but pant against his shoulder.

The tip of Jeongguk's cock is pressed against your skin, his release painting you in the most glorious sin. He cums, but it feels like it never stops. Every time you think it has, he whines again, wanks a little more, unloads another spurt onto your torso. It trails down your hip, to your thigh and then sinks to the shower floor; washed away like a bad decision never to be repeated.

Breathlessness overcomes the pair of you, remaining as you are for a few moments, until Jeongguk finally breaks it.

"I swear I never usually cum that fast."

You just laugh. Pat his head. "Sure."

"Fuck off, I don't," he says, laughing now too. "Christ. What the fuck was that, Byeol?"

He lifts his posture from how it's rested against you, turning to press his shoulders to the tiles beside you. The shower is still running, so he reaches over to turn it off. Neither of you are fully clean yet, but you'll get back to it in a moment. No point in running his water bill up just because he can.

"Well," you exhale. "I think you just discovered boobs."

He laughs. Tilts his head back against the tiles. Bites his lips as he shakes his head. "To be fair, I think you might be right."

You laugh now too, and that's how the evening remains; full of laughter. Jokes about how platonic and totally friendly the entire exchange has been. There's no weirdness, but in all honesty, you never thought there would be.

Jeongguk lends you a pair of sweats and one of his shirts after the shower, your hair air drying beautifully thanks to Jimins oh-so-expensive conditioner. You feel a little bad for using it now, but you made him cum once, so you think you're even.

"And when Jimin asks where it's come from?" You question as you watch from Jeongguk's sofa while he hangs your artwork up on the wall. It's next to the television. Really fucking hard to miss. Will be the first thing he notices.

"I'll just say it's one of Tae's," Jeongguk shrugs.

"And when Tae comes round?"

"I'll... think of another lie?"

"Sounds foolproof," you muse, sipping on your glass of water, thinking that he's possibly the biggest idiot you know.

"Either way, neither of them will know what it is, or who made it. It'll be a mystery. Wait, unless," he stops himself. Furrows his brows together. Tries to join dots in his head. Even uses his hands to help with the mental work. "Would Jimin be able to tell?"

Your lips purse up, forming a thin line between your cheeks. You shake your head.

"No?"

"No," you say. "He never... Well, I meant what I said about them. Keeping them off limits. Or at least, kept."

"Yeah," Jeongguk nods, accepting your truth, but thinking of hypotheticals. "Did he not see them, like, at all?"

"Um," you say to buy time, questioning how much you should divulge. "You really wanna know?"

Jeongguk shrugs. Nods his head again. Makes no difference to him.

You adjust in your seat, trying to think of how to phrase the events of your night with Jimin, and finally settle on, "Well, I was fully clothed -"

"What?"

"- And we did it from behind." You watch as Jeongguk stays silent for a moment. He's doing that thinking face of his again. The hand is moving. Figuring things out. And then you realise what he's doing. "No! Gross! Don't imagine it!"

"I'm just trying to get a visual!" He protests with a small pout. "Just trying to understand how!"

"My god," you cringe, hiding your head in your hands. "Never should have done that bird with you."

Jeongguk rolls his eyes as he comes to sit beside you, admiring his handiwork. He actually really likes the painting. Is glad you added him to it, too.

"Yes, you should have," he says. "You admitted it yourself, you kept your tits off-limits, but it's clearly a big part of sex for you, right?"

You nod, not looking at him, but up at the canvas. It really is pretty. "Right."

"If you could do all that with me, you can do it with anyone else. It'll make a huge difference to how satisfying you find casual sex, which is like, the whole goal, right?"

And again, you nod.

"Exactly," he beams. "Now, say 'thank you Jeongguk'."

"I'm not saying thank you," you laugh. "You literally got cum on my feet. You should be thanking me."

"Oh my god," he groans. "I'm never showering with you again."

"It wasn't the shower that was the issue!"

The pair of you bicker a little more, until the reality of it being the early hours of the morning kicks in. You're both yawning, hardly able to keep your eyes open. He offers up his bed, but you'd feel guilty taking it two nights in a row, so call for a taxi instead.

You're still in his clothes, but you'll just return them the inevitable next time.

He tells you to let him know when you get home safe, and you do, only for him to reply a few minutes later with a message that makes you consider blocking him.

Jeongguk: Still an ass guy, btw.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[dreamingofep]

For the Heart part 2

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: no not at all. This idea popped in my head at midnight the other night and couldn't stop thinking about it.

Prompt: You are Elvis Presley's latest girlfriend.

You are a new actor in Hollywood and fall head over heels with him on set and your whirlwind romance begins. | [Fem!Reader ]

TW: 18+ SMUT SMUT SMUT Sexxx. Cussing, fingering (f. receiving) teasing/tension, edging, daddy kink, dom!Elvis, unprotected p in v, cream pie, inaccurate to Elvis timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors

Do NOT Interact)

| Word Count: 5,800

A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you to anyone who read part one of this! I couldn't leave this one alone and kept writing a continuation. Hope you like part 2! Please feel free to comment and message me your thoughts I'd love the feedback! Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

The soft silky sheets wrap around your body as you start to stretch and regain consciousness from your deep sleep. You let out a soft groan and twist your torso to let out a nice pop out of your spine. You feel the other side of the bed cold and empty like usual. You stretch out your legs and wince. There’s a soreness on your inner thighs and your-

Oh fuck.

Elvis came back last and surprised you… that’s putting it mildly.

Last night was one of the most intense nights you two had had in a long time and just relished in the memory. Where did he run off to already?

A pang of sadness hits you thinking he already left and didn’t say goodbye. You sit up in bed and your eyes scan the room, looking for any signs of his stuff laying around. You can't find anything of his and all you can see is the nightgown he tore off of you and your wadded-up panties thrown across the way. You flop back down on your pillow and want to throw a fit that he’s not here next to you.

You turn your head over to look over at his side of the bed when you see a folded piece of paper on top of his pillow.

Had to take care of some business baby

I’ll be back before you get up

Stay there looking like an angel

E

You can’t help but smile when you read those few last words. His blocky, capital lettered writing beautifully floating on the page for your eyes to see. The fact that he sees you as an angel when he is a perfectly sculpted man baffles you and makes you get butterflies in your tummy from that prospect.

You decide to get up and shower and try to get ready for the day. You had no idea if Elvis had anything planned or not but thought it would be best to get rid of the stickiness that was down your thighs. You walk around the corner to the bathroom and turn on the shower and get the water nice and steamy the way you like it.

After getting all ready with your hair perfectly up, not a hair out of place, and your makeup done like it's straight out of a magazine, you decide it's time for some lunch. It was two in the afternoon so breakfast was out the window. Going through your closet, you decide on a lavender v-neck sweater, black leather skirt, with sheer tights underneath will be the outfit you go with for the day. You hope Elvis doesn’t take too long with whatever he’s doing and you get to spend the rest of the day with him and only him.

As you go down the stairs, the front door opens and this beautiful tall shadow is in the middle of the door frame. Your heart skips a beat and you know that body anywhere. He takes a step in and a beaming wide smile is across his face. It’s the goofy kind of smile you absolutely adore and get a giggle from any time he gives one to you. You take two steps at a time and come running down the rest of the stairs and get into those perfect arms.

“Hi darlin’, looking irresistible as always.” He places his hand on the base of your neck and pulls you in for a heated kiss. His other hand slides down your back, caresses the swell of your ass and squeezes firmly. You press your body into his more and take in all this passion that is seeping from his lips. “E… you’re killing me. Didn’t get enough of that last night hmm?” you say teasingly.

“Baby, I was gone too long, I have lots of making up to do,” he says, giving you another hard squeeze, making you push into his body more and let out a soft moan.

“See, you just can’t help but want more,” he teases. Your eyebrow raises, shocked at his brazen bluntness.

“Elvis Presley! You are unbelievable!” you say pushing him back from you, trying your best not to laugh.

“Mmm tell me something I don’t already know,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes. You scoff and turn away and start to make your way to the kitchen as you had planned.

“You cocky son of a bitch,” you yell over your shoulder to him. “It wasn’t that good calm down,” you giggle knowing it’s going to piss him off. It’s a terrible lie to say because there was no truth to it! The way he took you and made you cum not once but three times last night has you craving him once again.

You go to sit down at the kitchen table and Mary, the cook, asks you what you felt like.

“Would you be able to make a turkey sandwich with the works?” you ask, giving her a big smile. “Of course dear. Oh Mr. Presley, would you like anything to eat too?”

Elvis looms over you, looking at you like you’re his next meal.

“No Mary, I’m alright thank you, honey.” Elvis proceeds to sit next to you and watch you eat your lunch. The heat and anger rolling off of him.

“So what are we doing today honey other than watching every bite I take out of this sandwich? Gonna watch me go to the bathroom too?” You turn your body to face his and feel him grab your thigh with his massive hand making a slapping sound when he does it.

“Well I was thinking of taking you out and buying you a new dress for my movie premiere I was gonna take you to, but I also think I need to fuck this sass out of you that you decided to wake up with today.” He growls and pulls you in closer, his hand creeping up your thigh.

“You really think you can tell me such things like I didn’t give you the best sex you’ve had in forever? How you were begging me to let you cum on me not twelve hours ago? Hmm.”

You want to put up a fight, you want to put him over the edge and wind him up so tight.

“Oh, that was just a little acting on my part honey. No big deal.” You press your lips together to stop from smiling.

His face is pure shock. He is at a loss for words and all he can do is tighten his grip on your thigh. You could end this right now and have him carry you upstairs and let him ravage you for hours. But you want to keep teasing and see what he’ll do.

”Mr. Presley, you actually think that’s gonna work? Do you think you can just fuck me into being exactly how you want me to be and say exactly what you want to hear? Like a submissive little whore hmm?”

“Well from the sounds of it last night, yes, it worked perfectly and I know I can do it again and again,” he growls through his teeth. You love getting this rise out of him.

It’s like poking a bear in hibernation, you know it's a terrible idea but you still want to see what happens.

“Oh honey, I’d love to see you try. You can’t make me kneel for you that easy. Probably don’t have it in you to fuck me again like that anyway,” You tear his hand off you and get up from the table.

“So are we picking up that dress for me or what?” your voice full of fire and waiting for his next reaction.

His face was stone cold and his eyes were blazing. You know he wants to spank some sense into you but he holds his ground. He stands up calmly and walks slowly toward you, the flame ready to ignite. He grabs your chin with his hand, “sure darlin’, let’s go shopping. This should be fun,” He goes over to the phone to let his bodyguards know he’s going out. “Bring the Limo out front, we’re going into town,” he says coldly as he looks back at you with controlled rage you can’t help but look away with how much power he is holding over you and go upstairs to grab your purse.

The Colonel gifted the 1967 Lincoln Executive Limousine to Elvis a few weeks ago to welcome him home from set. You didn’t trust any of the Colonel’s intentions with Elvis. You always had a weird feeling about him and he definitely did not like you. “You know, any distraction for Elvis was a bad one,” he told you the first day you met and you were made well aware of how you perceived.

The limo pulls up to the front of Graceland and Elvis’s hand burns into your back as he leads you in front of him into the limo. You sit down and try to put as much distance between yourself and his raging body but he has a tight grip on your waist and slides himself right next to you. You look out the window trying to not give him an ounce of your attention.

“Red, roll up the partition will ya? I forgot my sunglasses and the light is killin me,” he says, annoyance filling his words.

“No problem EP.” The partition starts to roll up and make a pop when in place.

Elvis’ eyes are locked on you and the tension in the small space is suffocating you.

“Can I help you with something honey? Use your words dear,” You know you are taking things too far and you are going to pay for them later but you like this slice of control in your hands.

Elvis’ hands are on your throat quick, pushing you to lie down on the long back seat of the limo with him straddling you. He stares down at you waiting for the next smart-ass thing to come out of your mouth. You give him a coy smile and he puts his face close to yours.

“You are going to wish you never talked to me like that again little girl,” he scoffs at you.

He spreads your legs open and picks your tights up from your thigh and tears the thin material that is covering your tummy and crotch with his fingers. He presses two fingers at your entrance and pushes the fabric of your panties in. You let out a muffled moan as you bite your lip.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, darling,” his voice full of venom, “you are going to lay here, in pure silence while I eat this pussy out, showing who you belong to.” You squirm in protest but he just shoves his fingers deeper inside you to still you. “I will do anything I want to do to you today and you will learn to never talk to me like that again. No man can fuck you the way I can. You are mine. All mine. Nod if you understand.” Your body aches for him. You want him to fuck you right here in this backseat but the staying quiet part has you dying. The sounds that Elvis would make come out of you were ones you’ve never felt the need to hide! He loved hearing how good you felt and how much you loved his dick. You slowly nod and squint your eyes shut.

Your wetness is pooling and his mouth starts to trail down close to your core. You need his mouth on you.

He removes your panties and tosses them on the floor. He places one long lick through your folds and you gasp at the sensation. He looks up at you as he starts to suck lightly on your clit, examining every single reaction from you.

You’re so on edge and want so much more but you’re at his mercy now. He laps up more of your wetness as it’s seeping out. His tongue enters you for a moment and you arch your back, moving your hips forward and causing you to groan out in pleasure.

“What did I say about stayin’ quiet?” He shoots you a look that runs a chill down your spine.

“I guess I didn’t hear that part,” you smirk at him.

His mouth is covered in your juices and he makes a smirk as he’s looking down at your pussy.

“Well I’m gonna have to change that,” he shoves two fingers inside you and you cover your mouth trying to hold back the moan you want to let out.

“You better stop moaning like the lil’ whore that you are darlin’. Look at you just squeezing my fingers wishing it was my cock instead.”

You squeeze the leather seats needing to release this pent-up frustration. Your pussy flutters around him wanting so much more.

He starts to pump his fingers in and out of you at a faster tempo, curling them inside you and making you roll your eyes back in your head. You loved the way this was feeling but wanted to scream out his name more than anything.

Elvis places his mouth back on your clit and starts sucking on it driving you mad. He knows exactly what you like and eats you out like his life depends on it.

You can feel your climax looming and want to tell him how to get you there. But you have no idea what he’s going to do if you utter another word. Suddenly the limo stops and you hear Red yell, “EP, we’re here, ready to go?” Elvis takes his mouth off of you and turns his head toward the front of the car.

“Give me a second Red. Go ahead and just wait outside.” You hear both car doors open and then slam closed. Elvis just stares at you writhing in anticipation, your body ready to have its release.

“Mmm I feel you’re close baby, you want me inside you? Do you think you deserve that?” You nod at him, giving him your most pleading eyes hoping he will give you what you need. He twists his fingers inside you, seeing what gives him the biggest reaction. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet though dear. You have never talked to me so rudely and frankly, I’m fuckin’ pissed.” You grab at his arms, trying to get him to keep going. He’s never left you unsatisfied and you think today might be the day.

He pulls his fingers out of you, licks them, and sits back to look at you. “No you don’t get your way today and you’ll have to wait, honey,” he looks down at his hand and takes off his EP ring on his index finger, and holds it up to you, “You see this baby? You want me inside you so bad? This is all you get of me inside of you. You’re not allowed to take it out til I say so. This is what you deserve after being such a brat. You get to walk around all day begging me to take this ring out of you and put my cock inside you instead. Maybe then you’ll realize how good my cock is.”

You feel the coldness of the ring slide into your dripping cunt and moan at the feeling.

“Goddamn it E, you’re trying to kill me aren’t you?! Fuck…” You place your hands at your lower tummy where there is so much pressure forming you are craving any ounce of release. He laughs at the sight in front of him, “you brought this onto yourself, honey. Now come on let's go get that dress for you.”

You step out of the limo and Red and Sunny do a double take at you and the expressions on their faces are full of questions. You realize you don't have your tights on anymore and your hair is falling out of place. Now they both understand what was going on in the back seat and you blush and look away.

Elvis made you try on a million different dresses and none of them were up to his standards. But ultimately, he just loved to watch you squirm in public and make you wait longer for him to take you. After you tried on the fifteenth dress of the day, you had enough of Elvis’ game and stormed back into the dressing room seething.

Elvis comes in behind you and closes the door.

“What’s wrong honey? I thought you wanted to try on dresses today?” his voice full of sarcasm.

“Oh don’t even with me right now Elvis!” You go to sit down on the stool in the dressing room and slump in defeat.

“Okay, we can go now, you can get the third one, honey. That was the best one I liked.” He gets on his knees and lifts up the long floor-length dress and starts to rub your thigh, spreading your legs apart. “How is my baby doing? Being so good and patient. You still have my ring?” His words make your core throb and more wetness pools down your thigh.

Your voice is low and shaky, “yes I do honey. I’ll do anything you want me to do. Please I’ll never say such lies again.”

He places two fingers on your entrance, sliding them up and down your slit.

“Mmm, I feel how wet you are lil mama. This pussy is dying for my attention. Makes me hard just thinking about it.” He leans his head into your crotch and gives your mound a sensual kiss. You moan into the sensation and grab his hair tight. He starts to rub your clit in slow circular motions, the sound of your wetness filling the quiet dressing room. You lean into the friction he’s giving and moan out a bit too loud. “Shhh honey, don't want us to get kicked out now do we.” He teases and he applies more pressure to that sensitive bundle of nerves. He stops and lowers your dress back down and makes you change back into your skirt and sweater.

“Let’s go,” he mumbles under his breath and harshly closes the dressing room door.

Elvis puts cash on the counter and leaves with the dress in hand for you. You both leave the boutique and jump into the limo still waiting outside. As soon as the door closes, Elvis’ lips crush into yours with so much intensity. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him like he’s your oxygen. He raises your skirt and palms your wet heat. You realize you’re getting some of your wetness on the leather seats. He looks at your scrunched-up skirt with your pussy peeking out underneath and lets out a breathy sigh. He makes you straddle his thigh and continues to kiss you. He grabs a handful of your hair and the other hand on your hip, fully in control of you. He squeezes and pulls your hair tight and you involuntarily start to grind yourself into his strong thigh.

“Oh you just gonna make a mess all over me like always,” he chuckles and stills your hips. “I don’t think so, honey.”

“Oh fuck,” you cry out, just feeling the vibration of the car and the bumps in the road causing random moments of friction. The roughness of his slacks rubbing on your clit is driving you to the edge. Your wetness starts to cover his pants and make a translucent strip where you are sitting on him. You kiss him more vigorously and in your way, show him how badly you need him. Suddenly, the car stops to a halt and Elvis stills your hips.

“Goddamn it.” you moan out. He’s much stronger than you and gets you off of his leg. He looks down and inspects the mess you’ve left on his leg. Your eyes trail up and see his cock getting hard.

“Hmm, you still don’t like how I fuck you hmm? Just more lies from the look of the mess on my pants. I’m going to have to teach you a lesson upstairs, mama.”

You have no more fight left in you and just shake your head yes at him. He opens the car door and reaches his hand out to get you. Once you make your first step out, he lifts you off your feet and carries you holding your body in his arms. Going up the stairs up to the bedroom he closes the door with his foot and places you on the bed and goes to lock the door.

“Take off your clothes for me baby. Nice and slow.”

You raise the sweater off of your body and toss it aside. You stand up in front of him and unbutton the top button and slowly slide down the rest of the skirt.

He bites his lower lips and stares. “Turn around for me, let me see all of you.”

You do a slow turn on your heels and he stills you when your back side is completely facing him. He lets out a soft groan and pulls you toward the mirror in the corner of the room. He turns you around and you see red partial handprints on the middle and the side of your ass he left from last night. “Do you see that honey, that means you’re mine. Looking so beautiful,” he turns you around to face him, “Are you ready to learn your lesson baby? Ready to do anything I want?”

“Yes…, baby I’m ready,” you whisper.

“Mmm… get on your knees for me.” You listen and kneel down to him, waiting for his next demand.

He unbuttons his shirt and takes off his pants and his cock is at eye level with you.

He jerks himself off a bit, his tip dripping with precum just begging to be sucked off.

“Here’s what I want you to do honey, you’re going to take this cock in your mouth and suck me off nice and slow. Then, I'll take that ring out of you and you’ll get on top of me and try to take all of this cock inside you. You’ll ride me till you cum so hard and your body gives out.”

You whimper and look up at him, wanting all of his attention poured out to you.

“Open your mouth for me,” he says as he grabs a fist full of hair and gets you into position. You open your mouth wide and you lick the precum that’s dripping out of his tip.

You roll your tongue in slow circles around him, taking your time knowing how much he loves it. You look up at him through your eyelashes and see his mouth agape and his eyebrows furrowed together.

He starts to push your head forward, taking in more of his cock. You flatten your tongue out on the bottom of his shaft and watch as he lets out a breathy moan. You can’t help but smile that you have this effect on this man. The man that could have anyone on this planet, chose you and loves how you make him feel.

“You need to take more lil mama,” he whispers out and he starts to move your head over his cock at a faster pace. Drool is starting to come out of your mouth as you take more of his impressive size in your mouth.

You can’t help but moan out loving the feeling of him using you like this. This was the most submissive he’s ever made you and you couldn’t lie to yourself; you loved it.

“You gonna talk to me like that again honey? Going to deny me and tell me you didn’t even like how I fucked you last night?”

At those words he pushes his cock down your throat, causing you to gag around him. He pulls himself out of you waiting for his answer.

“No baby, I won’t do that anymore. I’m sorry…” you put your mouth back on him and he hits the back of your throat again causing a low moan.

“Mmm, good. Being such a good girl. Get up now honey.” You start to stand and your legs feel so weak. You want him to ravage you but you know he’s still going to tease you. You look down at the carpet and you see a pool of your arousal sitting there. You are desperate for him to get this ring out of you.

He drags you to the bed and places you on your back, legs spread wide. “You’ve been so good honey, keep still now.” He places his index finger inside you, hooking it inside you and pulling the ring out. He looks at it closely, moaning when he sees how much arousal has covered it and made it extra slick. He slips it back on the finger it came from and leans down to kiss you.

“Are you ready to ride me now? I think you’ve learned your lesson and need to be fucked. Come on,” he says as he lays on his back and pulls you on top of him.

You feel his cock rub against your entrance and the rest of it bends back toward your ass as you hover above him on your knees. You normally don’t ride him because, for one, he’s a lot to take in from this angle, and two, he always is the one that wants to take care of you and likes to be on top. You can only think about two times you’ve been on top and it was torture to try to stay on top that long.

“Come on honey, I need to be inside you.” He moans.

You can’t control how shakey you are and lean on one knee and lift your other leg to get his cock in the front of your body. You look at him waiting to get the okay to slowly sink down on him. He nods his head and you squat on your feet and stretch your body up to try and take him inside you.

You slowly sink down on his cock and love the feeling of him stretching you. The hours of teasing that he’s been doing to you has you so wet that you’re able to take him a bit easier.

“Fuck, you look so good on me baby. Love watching you take me so easily.” He starts to rub your hard nipples in between his thumb and index fingers causing you to moan and sink down more on his cock.

“Oh yes baby,” you say breathlessly. He continues to pinch your nipples causing you to squint your eyes shut.

You start to pick up the pace and slide yourself up and down on his cock a bit faster, taking a few more inches of him in. He lets go of your nipples and runs his hands down your body and grabs your hips tight. You pop open your eyes again and look at this ethereal-looking man with lust burning through him.

“Take more of me baby like this,” he groans out and lifts his hips up, and sinks his cock deeper into your pussy. You both grunt at the feeling and you grab onto his arms that are holding you down.

“Oh fuck Elvis,” you scream out, “oh god that’s so deep.”

“Oh, you like it like that honey?” He growls as he bucks his hips into you again causing you to take the entirety of him inside you. You yelp at the sudden stretching and he stills your hips. You want more than anything to buck wild on him but he doesn’t let you have that control yet. Pleasure is coursing through you and love how he feels.

“Oh yes… honey yes! Please let me move, I need to ride your cock.” You’re eyes wide, pleading with him to stop this teasing and let you make him feel good too.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just waits to find the right thing to say. He bucks up again making you roll your eyes into the back of your head.

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” He demands, and moves his hips up again.

“Y-you honey.” You gasp out.

“Mhmm, that’s right. Tell me my cock is the best one you’ve ever had,” he grunts out as he bucks his hips again into you hard.

“Ah god, your cock is the best I’ve ever had, please, oh god” you couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of your mouth but Elvis had you wrapped around his finger.

“No, don't say it to god, say it to me. Say it to your daddy.” He growls out and thrusts into you twice and your pussy involuntarily squeezes him at the sound of his words.

“Daddy, your cock is the best I’ve ever had. The best I’ll ever have. Please let me ride this big dick now,” he bites his lower lip at the sound of your words and he thrusts into you more.

“Good baby, yes, you can ride me.” He loosens the grip he has on your hips and he starts moving you up and down.

He fills you so completely and it’s overwhelming at first. He moves his hands up to your breasts and squeezes them firmly. You bounce on him and love how he is hitting those spots inside you that make you want to see the stars.

With him fully inside you, you start to grind back and forth on his cock causing your clit to rub on him bringing your orgasm that much closer.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the smooth and fuzzy chest hairs on his perfectly sculpted body. You look at him watching every last detail; him closing his eyes, then opening them back up and nodding his head at you to keep fucking him like this.

Your legs were getting weak and couldn’t keep the same pace very well. Elvis knew you were close and watched you try to ride and grind yourself into orgasm.

“Look at you lil mama, riding this cock so good. You’re so close I can feel it. Do you want me to help you?

“Yes p-please,” you whisper.

“Please what?” He snaps back at you.

“Please daddy! Please let me cum on this cock,” you beg and claw at his arms leaving red streaks down them. This poor man will have battle wounds every time you two fuck.

He lets out a guttural moan and leans his head back into the pillows and starts fucking you faster, holding you down by the hips and fucking you hard. You can’t help the loud moans coming out of you as he’s pounding into you.

“Yes daddy, keep fucking me. Feels so good,” you cry out hoping no one can hear you downstairs but it’s probably too late.

“Cum for me honey. Let me feel how much you love this cock,” he says watching you continue to ride him and feel your walls start to squeeze him.

The release comes over you so fast and you hold onto Elvis for dear life as you ride through your orgasm. You squeeze his long girth over and over, feeling your juices run down him.

He keeps this pace making you weak and an absolute mess.

“Does my lil’ whore like it when I cum inside her?”

“Yes, d-daddy. I love it so much.” You gasp out.

“Fuck, being so good for daddy. I’m gonna cum baby mmm,” he moans out and thrusts harder and faster. The wetness that’s residing in between your thighs, echoes in the room each time he thrusts into you. He squeezes your hips tight knowing they’ll probably leave bruises and buries his cock deep inside you. Not long after, he starts to cum deep inside you, moaning your name.

“Oh fuck y/n you feel so good,” he gasps out as his orgasm is finishing.

You look down at him and see the fire in his eyes slowly start to dissipate. You get to enjoy the moment with him and calm each other down from the intense feelings going through you both.

You lay on his chest, listening to his fast heartbeat start to slow down to a normal pace.

He runs circles on your back and you let out a low hum. You loved how close you were and the feeling of touching his sweaty, sticky skin.

You get up off of Elvis and his semi-hard erection slaps on his tummy. He gets up to get you two a towel and you lay there on the bed completely spent. He comes back and looks at how you’re laying out on the bed. He kneels next to you and wipes you clean, giving your forehead kisses.

“So, was that just okay for you?” He quips with so much sass filling his voice. You can’t help but smile and shake your head at this man.

“Yes, daddy, it was so good I loved it.”

“Good darlin. I love hearing you call me daddy,” he leans over you and kisses you, slipping his tongue in your mouth. You moan into him, loving how there is a tingle throughout your body. “I think you’ve learned your lesson to not talk to me like that again,” he smirks at you

“I did, I promise daddy.”

He kisses your nose and smiles that perfect smile you’ve loved for so long.

“So, not sure what you want to do for the rest of the day but I’m leaving it up to you. I already told you what I wanted from you,” he chuckles and you throw the pillow at him turning beet red.

“Maybe we can watch some movies together later hun how does that sound?” You say hoping he has nothing else to do today and can just relax with you.

“Sure honey, I just need to take care of something first.” He says as he goes into his closet to grab some pants and a shirt. You roll your eyes at him, there’s always something with this man. You huff hoping he can hear you from there.

“Don’t start huffing at me,” he points his finger at you, “I need to go downstairs and explain to everyone that there wasn’t a woman getting murdered in my bedroom just now and apologize for the disturbance it caused everyone.” He grabs your face with his cold rings pressing into it. He can’t help but let a smirk come out and you do the same.

“Sorry…daddy…” you whisper looking up at him for forgiveness.

“Good girl” he coos and kisses you again before wrapping you up in the blankets.

“I’ll be right back honey, stay there looking perfect.” You nod at him and wink, loving how this perfect man makes your heart so full.

Tagging

@plasticfantasticl0ver @aconflagrationofmyown @powerofelvis @returntoelvis @burninlovebutler @lindszeppelin

[janiedean]

Do you believe in the statement "Islam is a religion of peace"? I think it's a ridiculous statement and I'm sick of people repeating it over and over. Saying it doesn't make it true. I have NOTHING against Muslims as people but the Koran is no better than the Bible when it comes to violence and pretending otherwise is just ridiculous to me. I came across a gifset the other day of a Muslim woman insisting that Islam is "the most feminist religion of all" and it just doesn't make sense to me.

man you’re talking to an atheist so obviously my answer is biased, and I read the bible but not the koran (I read bits not all of it) so my opinion is what it is, but:

given that I think that the bush jr policy of demonizing islam post sept 11th was the dumbest shit he could have done and I’m happily blaming that for 90% of the mess we’re in today and that I don’t think islam is inherently more violent than christianity given that as you said violence in holy books is about that same level

and given that a lot of the koran has been (purposefully or not) misquoted to justify terrorism/fight against terrorism

and given that 90% of the parts of the sharia law we find more abhorrent (ie the ones condemning lgbt+ people, allowing child brides and so on) aren’t actually in the koran but are holy because some interpreters who were also holy men declared them so so a lot of it is - as with christianity - stuff added by the organized part of the religion (like, there isn’t ONE line in the bible openly condemning abortion unless you don’t interpret the sermon of the mount in a specific way but honestly, but according to the catholic church and christianity in its worst incarnations abortion is A SIIIINNNN)

I also think that everyone automatically tries to delete the worst parts of the religion they believe in and the likes and at the same time it’s really hard to question things you were taught since the day you were born. and going like yES BUT THIS LINE IN THE BOOK SAYS THIS doesn’t mean anything because another says the contrary ten pages after and a lot of religious ppl in general haven’t even read either the koran (see: a lot of isis recruits) or the bible (see: most people who tell me that if I read it I’ll convert, then I tell them I did and if they remember the dismembered concubine from the book of kings and they fall from the clouds. aha) and they tend to stick to the parts that are *safer*. ie for christianity everyone moderate says it’s all about the best parts of the gospel (and no one ever remembers my two favorite bits ie when jesus told people who *went around talking in his stead* that he didn’t know them from adam and when he said to one of the two thieves crucified next to him that he had a place in heaven with him hahahahhahahahaha) and never about the worst parts of them or of the old testament (for one, did you know that with the plagues of egypt the pharaoh refused to let moses go because god directly influenced him because he wanted to show how much more powerful he was in comparison to the pharaoh’s false gods, because the poor guy actually would have let moses leave after the sixth plague? YEAH I DIDN’T UNTIL I READ IT EITHER) same as a lot of moderate muslims focus on the best parts of the koran like the peace message and so on and ignore the worst.

now, personally I think that religious books are written in such a way that you can find anything and its contrary inside them. the bible is BOTH old and new testament but even if you decide that the old doesn’t matter because you only follow jesus’s teachings, okay, paul in some of his letters says exactly the contrary of what jesus meant but paul’s letters are in the NT and no one’s taking them out yet. st. augustine is one of the church’s Fathers with the capital F but he came up with predestination (which is a thing that is absolutely not in the NT) and the catholic church ignores it because it eventually rejected that vision. and so on. it’s not surprising that moderate muslims see their religion as a religion of peace and the jihadists use it to fuel terrorism because both interpretations have their valid points. if you’re moderate and want to say muslim religion is peaceful you have your quotes, if you’re not you have others. and so on. so like, I personally think that since to me it’s all about stuff that doesn’t exist it’s all very ridiculous and I honestly can’t conceive killing themselves in the name of someone whose existence you cannot prove never mind that it’s basically the same God just with a different name and a different theological interpretation so like, wtf guys. I don’t think any religion is inherently peaceful or warmongering, I think people make of it what they want and that you need it separated from the state in any case because if that doesn’t happen it’s always going to coincide with someone’s political interests and fanatics will breed more easily.

re the feminism, I have issues in that sense and maybe a clearer opinion tho that might be that there’s things I cannot chalk to cultural relativism to justify, but like: it’s true that in theory islam is not... well, anti-women at its core because let’s all remember that in the middle ages muslim women on paper were better off than europeans unless my high school books lied about that, but it’s true that a lot of the **sharia** law mentioned above is NOT fucking feminist - whatever you mean with it - and I’m honestly... I mean, I get cultural relativism, but like let’s just take the veil. in theory if it’s an imposition it’s not even valid because you have to choose to wear it and it’s all good, but do people choose to wear it in countries like idk taliban afghanistan? do people have a choice about it when it’s not just the veil but covering your whole damned body and you can’t touch someone else’s hand without your husband’s permission? and saying that it’s also valid for men makes me lol because I haven’t seen men under a burqa yet. like everyone has the rights to choose what they wear or not, but when it’s de-humanizing like that (bc burqas are de-humanizing to me sorry) and it’s people who have been taught since they were born that they have to wear it... is that a choice? and like, yeaaah in saudi arabia eight year old girls can marry people thrice their age and if I have a vagina I can’t drive a car, but that’s feminist? like where I teach, one morning each week it’s just women and only women can teach because some don’t/won’t come if men are attending as well and won’t be taught by male teachers. and like... I understand they do it because otherwise they don’t come, but I feel really iffy about accommodating a thing that to me is out of this freaking universe, especially because you get veiled women coming to regular class without a problem. shit like that imo is just backwards and the fact that it happened here fifty years ago as well means that while I won’t judge muslim countries too harshly on that sense... well, we moved past it and we have equality on paper, shouldn’t they have it too? (admittedly I don’t think attaching ideologies to any religion is a good idea because what the hell does FEMINIST RELIGION even mean, catholics are crazy when it comes to worshipping mary so they’re also feminists?? and religion are used to prop up other ideologies every other day so like.... I’m iffy on that period) so on that topic I honestly can’t agree but because I don’t agree that religions are inherently any -ism.

tldr: I think everyone picks and chooses when it comes to religions so saying that it’s THIS OR THAT is ridiculous (christianity from the westboro baptists is not catholicism to say one and they have the same holy book) and that you need to separate them from politics before doing any kind of this discourse. I also don’t agree with this policy of ‘since bush jr policy was BASHING ON ISLAM FOR EVERYTHING’ now we have to do the contrary and ‘EXCUSE ISLAM FOR EVERYTHING’ because it doesn’t help - you have to condemn the bad apples of the bunch and not alienate the good ones, and that means also criticizing where it’s due.

I mean, ffs, it was on the news here the other day but some girl in bologna who came from a muslim family who didn’t want to wear the veil was forcefully shaved by her mother (like shaved all her hair) and she told her teachers saying she didn’t want to live with them anymore because they were pushing the veil and the religion on her and she didn’t want that, and now she’s with the social services. she’s fourteen. that’s feminist? I don’t... really think so. and the fact that I’m atheist and I don’t get it from the pov of a religious person doesn’t mean that I can’t say it’s fucked up when it’s fucked up.