#I need the stickers actually would be neat on my laptop | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

raibebe · 5 years ago

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Of needles and seduction

Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”

You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.

“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.

With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.

“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?” “Nope.” “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.

“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”

“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.

“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.

“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”

“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”

When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.

“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.

The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.) “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.

After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again. You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.

You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.

When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.

“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.

“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”

After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now… “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.

“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.

“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.

“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.

The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”

After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.

“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.

“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.

All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)

Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.

The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.

A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”

Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”

“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.

After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.

So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.

The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.

“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.” You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.

“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.

The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.

“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.

“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe. “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.

“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless. “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.

Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.

Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.

With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.

You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.

God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.

“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.

For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.

“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.

#kafenetwork #johnny #seo youngho #johnny suh #nct #johnny smut #johnny fluff #nct smut #johnny imagines #johnny scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fic #johnny fic #johnny fanfic

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

love letter, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook gets love letters shoved in his mailbox and under his apartment door all the damn time. You, too, get love letters shoved in your mailbox and under your door. All the time. It could be a sweet gesture, but this is the twenty-first century. Love letters aren't all they're cracked up to be.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; short graphic descriptions of sex acts; smut (fem reader, a very intense make-out session including some wild tongue and too much saliva, nipple play, a bit of m-receiving oral, cowgirl, handjob); non-idol!BTS – technically university, blond, softsub!Jungkook x working, softdom!reader; slightly desperate and needy JK

yes, yes, it’s MTV Unplugged ‘Telepathy’JK

"I'm so tired of people thinking they have a chance with me."

Was the exasperated declaration as you backed up into your apartment, only to turn around and witness Jeon Jungkook dumping a waterfall of colorful envelopes from his giant black backpack onto your hardwood floor.

"At least remove your shoes before you start flaunting how hot you are," you replied dryly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he kicked off his large white sneakers. "Look at this shit! It's relentless! It's annoying! I just want to live my life!"

You vaguely recalled Jungkook being excited about his first love letter upon reaching university, and then the second, the third... and now you were staring at pile number five hundred on your doormat. "I don't know, put a sign on your door? 'Please stop, the answer is no?'"

Jungkook winced. "I can't do that. How many hearts am I going to break?"

"Uh, I dunno, you already broke half the campus by existing in general."

He bonked you on the head lightly with his denim jacket sleeve. "I have not. I've only slept with a couple people and that was supposed to be no strings attached."

You shrugged. "People can't understand that. Especially women."

He puffed his cheeks and stepped over the pile. You noticed the small stickers and nice handwriting on the colorful pastel paper. You almost felt bad, seeing all the effort put into them.

"At least they're cute. I only get torn notebook pages with scribbles."

"Stop lying. You get girls' letters too," Jungkook grumbled. "Can I borrow your computer? One of my professors assigned an online quiz and the internet at my place is down, again."

"You gotta move," you commented, kneeling down to collect the mess Jungkook made. You noticed Jungkook flit his eyes about before throwing up his hands and bending down to help you.

"I'm trying to get out of the lease, but I have a couple more months left," he complained childishly.

"What about your other friends? Can't you go bother them?"

Jungkook frowned, sticking out his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath winked at you. "You hate me now or something?"

You laughed, standing up with a stacked pile of confessions to Jeon Jungkook. "No, I'm just curious as to why you always come here."

He shoved the rest in your arms, his pile slightly messier than yours. "You live the closest and you're usually home. Plus, you have two computers."

"A laptop and a desktop," you corrected. "Don't you have a laptop?"

"It's easier to borrow yours."

"Lazy."

Jungkook ignored your remark and ticked his silvery-blond head further into the apartment. "Can I borrow it or not?"

You laughed. "Of course. Laptop's on the bed."

He turned and followed the hallway to your bedroom. "Same password?" he yelled, not looking back.

"Obviously."

"Why is it my birth date?" he shouted.

"Because, one, no one will guess it, and, two, you're a dumbass and always forget it."

"I do not!"

"How many times did you ask when the password was Klingon?"

"I don't know your nerdy shit!"

"Do your fucking assignment," you belted down the hall.

Jungkook stuck his head out of your bedroom door and scrunched his nose to make a hideous face at you, holding your gunmetal-colored laptop. You rolled your eyes as he disappeared again. This crackhead. You let out a sigh, walking past the acrylic painting of a blue sky with pink-purple clouds hanging in your living room, flicking through at all the letters addressed to Jungkook.

Surprisingly, you knew what he felt like. With you, it started with inviting one guy over to your place, sucking his dick, and then suddenly a letter appeared. Well, letter was putting it nicely. Dirty napkin with words scrawled with smeared ballpoint pen shoved under your door, explicitly asking for more. Then another, wanting it. Then another, begging for it. You ignored them. At some point, you invited a girl over, ate her out, and then the colorful envelopes started appearing, with cute stickers and neat handwriting.

Mmmhmm.

Why did Jungkook bring them here anyway? To brag? For you to peruse? You spread them out them on your coffee table and tore one open. Read it. Simple confession of love, no name. You were kind of jealous. Jungkook always got nicer ones than you did. Something about being a sexually uninhibited woman seemed to translate to others that you were down to fuck anyone, anytime, anything. You tossed the letter aside, ripped open a folded card closed with lilac tape. Another, 'I love you, please go out with me', no name. Toss. And you opened another one, reading out loud.

"I want to cram all one hundred and seventy-nine centimeters of you into me?”

Uh.

Huh.

Still no name.

Cute peach stationery though.

Was it a euphemism? Symbolic? Thinly veiled code? Hm. In any case, this was more along the lines of shamelessness you encountered yourself.

By all conventions, Jeon Jungkook was attractive as fuck. Pretty pink lips, big brown eyes, manly sharp jawline. He kept his hair on the longer side, around ear length, now silvery-blond compared to the usual black. You heard he dyed it a couple times, but now it had since faded to the original blond.

Oh, yeah, also he had nice hands and a body to die for.

You could see why Jungkook got all these love letters. You? Well, similar reasons, except less muscles. Also, yours weren't really love letters. More like vulgar remarks on the backs of grubby receipts.

Probably just as heartfelt.

The only reason you knew of Jungkook was because you were friends with one of his close friends. Alright, maybe you sucked his friend's dick. More than once. But anyway, not the point. The point was that the topic of love letters came up one night when everyone was hanging out and you voiced your predicament. It was the summer before Jungkook entered university. He had burst out laughing, thinking it was a hilarious situation.

"Haha, that would never happen to me!"

Jokes on you, Jungkook, karma's a bitch.

You thought about moving, but the location was close to your work and the internet service was great here. At least you always recycled the paper. What were you supposed to do? Keep an album of Starbucks napkins of people asking if your tongue was good or not?

You opened another envelope addressed to 'sweet, adorable Jungkookie'.

Their words, not yours.

"Shove your dick down my throat and make me gag? Smiley face?"

Well, that's a contrast.

Jungkook didn't start contacting you on his own until the letters started coming and then they didn’t stop coming, flooding his mailbox and underneath his door, overwhelming and confusing him. He didn't think he would get much attention, although perhaps it might be your fault, since you seemed to have set the precedence for this type of thing at this particular university. There was at least one person in every year that got this treatment, and it all started with one dirty napkin with smeared ink. Rumor caught on and then bam! It became a thing.

So, yeah.

Maybe kind of your fault.

You shouldn't have told so many people about that napkin.

You fished out a pizza receipt from the pile, inspecting it. You couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. Then you noticed it had Jungkook's phone number and an order of three pizzas. Not a confession, just trash from Jungkook's backpack. Did he really eat three pizzas? Hopefully not by himself and in one sitting. You noticed the timestamp. Mmm, three in the morning. Okay. Maybe he did eat three pizzas by himself in one sitting.

You filed through the rest, removing trash from the recyclable paper. Paused when you found a scrap of paper that said, "Put your dick in my ass." You recognized this curvy, narrow handwriting, slightly heavy-handed. Same person wrote you the same note this week.

This was why you didn't take the messages too seriously.

You saw a particularly thick purple envelope and picked it up, tearing it open. It was several pages, with tiny, crammed handwriting on paper with cute bunnies on it. Several pages detailing straight up porn with Jungkook as the leading role.

You almost burst out laughing.

Who the fuck would write this?

And send it to him?

Not you, that's for fucking sure.

Still, it wasn't the worst thing you've ever read. Had some spelling mistakes and poor grammar. Instant turn-off. Needed a good proofread. You settled onto your brown leather couch, highly entertained as you read it. Then you actually burst out laughing, because said person wanted Jungkook to lift them and fuck them at the same time and that kinda shit just wasn't possible. You would know, because you’ve tried. It sounded good, but in practice, the dick ended up falling out pretty quickly if the pussy was any sort of wet.

If you weren’t wet, then, eh, not sure why you're fucking.

"What is so fucking funny?" Jungkook grumbled, poking his head around the corner, still holding your laptop.

You held up the sheets of bunny-printed paper, still laughing. "Someone sent you their written erotica and you're the star!"

Jungkook grimaced. "Oh yeah, that person. They write something new every week. It's weird." He frowned. "I try to take it out so you don't have to read that shit. I must have missed it."

"It's hilarious," you chuckled. "You should publish them into a book."

"You know I can't do that," Jungkook sighed, putting your laptop on the coffee table and snatching the pages from you. "I throw them away like everything else."

"Did you finish your assignment?" you chortled, leaning over to look at the laptop screen. Submission successful. "80%?! When you could easily cheat?"

"I read a question wrong," Jungkook whined, balling up the paper and throwing it down. "Ack."

You looked up at him and he was looking upset at the pile on the table.

"What's wrong?"

"What if one of them is real?"

"Huh?"

"I mean... I just throw them away now. But what if one of them is real?" Jungkook wondered out loud.

You shrugged. "Does it matter? They'll tell you in person if it's that important."

Jungkook tilted his head at you doubtfully. "Will they?"

You sat back into your couch, with your legs wide open. You were wearing sleek black leggings and a cropped pink sweatshirt. Not the most ladylike pose, but you didn't really care. You gestured to the stack of letters on your wooden coffee table.

"They should. If they actually like you and it's not a joke, then they should tell you in person and accept that they might be rejected."

Jungkook frowned and slumped down next to you. His light-wash denim jacket made a loud floof as his ass hit the brown leather cushions. The wash of his jeans matched his jacket. He wore a white graphic t-shirt under. It looked vintage, but it probably wasn’t.

"What if they're nervous?" he questioned, twisting his pink lips around.

"So what? Everyone's nervous. We all live in a perpetual state of terror."

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

You leaned forward and plucked a sky-blue memo note from the table, reading it out loud. "I love you. Marry me." You held it out to him. "See? You get nice ones. I get, ‘choke me like you hate me’ and 'shove your tongue into my asshole, please'. Rarely do I get is that please at the end," you finished with a dry laugh. You looked up to see Jungkook staring back at you. Your laugh died a little seeing his serious expression.

"Yes."

You blinked at him. "What?"

Jungkook ticked his chin to the note, then shifted his eyes to you.

You pointed to the memo sheet and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't write this."

"I did."

He was so serious that you couldn't laugh. You just blinked at him rapidly and turned your head to look at the sky-blue memo sheet, finally recognizing the clean, block-like handwriting and spotting the bottom right corner. English letters. A J and a K fused together, the way Jungkook usually signed his paintings.

You dropped the note like it was on fire.

Jerked your head up, not to him, but to the painting across from you in the living room, the one with the blue sky and pink-purple clouds, with a tiny JK signature in black at the bottom right corner. The painting you asked Jungkook to make you a while back.

"You paint, right? I want something calm for my living room. I bought a canvas, so about this size. It's that cool?"

Jungkook had squinted his eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I could draw a pretty big dick on it."

"This is for my living room, dumbass. And I said I wanted something calm."

"A flaccid dick then."

You turned your head back to Jungkook of now, who was wringing his hands on his thighs, wiping off his palms. He noticed you watching him and puffed one cheek before letting out a big sigh.

"I was... gonna leave it on your laptop," Jungkook mumbled, flapping a hand to the sky-blue note. "But I couldn't find it in my backpack, and then I realized one of the pockets was open, the one where I keep receipts... anyway I had put the note there, so I came out to see if it was in the pile... yup, there it is."

He sucked in his cheek and fell back against the leather sofa.

"Was a joke."

Jungkook's voice sounded hollow. Empty.

"... Ah." You tucked the tip of your tongue in your cheek.

"Not the greatest joke," he added flatly.

“No, it’s not,” you agreed. "Jokes that are insincere are bad jokes."

The black words glared back up at you, contrasting the pale azure paper. You picked up the memo sheet again. Turned to face him, holding it up next to Jungkook's head of silvery-blond hair. He pursed his lips and looked away from you, jaw clenched in nervousness.

"Just say it."

He puffed one cheek again. "It was a joke."

"Then why are you saying it in past tense?"

His brown orbs shifted from side to side before Jungkook tried to bolt out of his seat, only for you to slam a hand down on his shoulder and throw a leg over him, straddling his lap before pinning the note to his chest. He yelped sharply and looked up at you with huge, shaking irises.

In all your time knowing him, you never tried to sleep with Jungkook.

Never.

You jabbed the note into his white shirt and he gave you a terrified squeak in response.

You scrutinized his face, jaw slack, eyes wide, blond curls framing his chiseled cheekbones. One of your eyebrows raised, your voice calm and unfazed.

"Say it."

"You say it," Jungkook finally shot back, furrowing his brows, biting on his lip and mustering up the most indignant look he could produce at this very second. You didn’t react. He seemed to have forgotten you did, in fact, say it, although perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he meant.

You never tried to fuck Jungkook because he didn’t treat you as anything more than his primary source of internet when his own was down. Ah, and also his outlet for complaining about his love letter problem. And then there was that other little wrinkle, the unwritten societal rule one of sucking a guy's dick you're still friends with - don't suck his friends' dicks. Surefire way to fuck up a friendship, especially if the dude’s ego was fragile.

Jungkook’s friend was dating someone else now though. His ego couldn’t be that fragile.

You leaned forward and Jungkook's annoyed gaze faltered. He gulped and tried to shrink into your brown leather couch, as if he could somehow disappear under you.

"I love you," you stated clearly and firmly. You glanced at the slightly crumpled piece of blue paper before your eyes flickered back to his face. "Marry me."

Hah, the thing about rules with you was...

Fuck 'em.

Not actually.

Eh, not the point.

"Really?" Jungkook squeaked, voice cracking slightly.

Ah, right, the other reason you never tried to sex up Jungkook because he was a little bit of an idiot around you. But maybe this sky-blue note detailed the reason for it.

"Say it," you repeated crossly, poking him in the pecs. "Stop avoiding it."

You observed Jungkook swallow hard again, Adam’s apple bobbing. You furrowed your brows, tipping your head down so that your forehead was hovering over his, eyebrow cocked, gazing into trembling brown orbs. Why was he taking so long? He wrote the damn words. Were they really just a joke? Hmph, why were you even trying then?

That’s how everyone was.

Not putting any stock or thought into their fucking words.

You lifted your finger but Jungkook’s right hand, the one with tiny tattoos, suddenly darted in your view, grabbing your hand back and jamming your finger onto his chest again. His heartbeat raced under your fingertip, thud-thud-thud, rapid bass accenting the moment. Electrifying it.

“Don’t.”

Whisper so faint you frowned and closed even more distance between you two, picking up the scent of vanilla fabric softener and lush cotton. A little different than you, who used a blackberry and spiced vanilla perfume.

“I like this,” Jungkook breathed under you, chewing his lip anxiously. You could feel his warm breath tickling your lips and chin with how close you were. You could count his individual eyebrow hairs, even though the eyebrow product he used.

“I… really like this.”

He let go of your hand.

Now you raised both eyebrows.

You slowly uncurled your middle finger, landing it on his chest next to the index. You felt him shiver a little, lips parting. Straightened your ring finger, planting it down. His lashes lowered a little, brown orbs on your face, watching your reaction to him. You could count the moles on his face. The one on his nose. The one on his cheek. The one under his lower lip. The one on his neck. Your pinky slid onto his chest. A wispy moan left his lips, eyelids fluttering, blond strands floating around his head with the little rise and fall of his heavy, tense exhale.

Why is it your birth date?

Take a wild guess, dumbass.

Your fingers abruptly dug into his white t-shirt, crumpling the note and scrunching the graphic up in your fist. He inhaled sharply, head tipping back and lips nearing yours, a whine escaping his throat. You quirked an eyebrow, drawing back slightly, taking in the rich depth of his tan skin, the sensual line of his neck, up to his angular chin and his dangling silver earrings. All of it. His hands immediately came up to grab your wrist and forearm, ensuring you and himself that you wouldn’t let go, the tendons in your flexed wrist right against his large palm.

“Say it, Jungkook,” you demanded. “Say those words with your pretty pink tongue hanging out your mouth for me.”

You watched him obey immediately, tongue sliding out and touching his lower lip, brown eyes framed by his long lashes and hazy with lust.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathed, a little gargled with his tongue out. “Fucking marry me, please.”

Ah, you couldn't help it.

You smirked.

"What about all your admirers?" you murmured, twisting your fingers in his shirt, digging your nails into his chest. "You'll break all those poor hearts you’re worried about."

Those dark brown eyes told you they didn't give a single fuck.

"What about you?" he countered, closing his mouth a little to speak more clearly.

"Me?"

The definition of trouble?

Well, if you looked that up in a dictionary, there would definitely be a picture of you.

Jungkook’s lips parted once more, keen to submit to your wickedness, pink tongue slipping out again, shiny and glistening with saliva. Breathing shallowly, rubbing your wrist with his thumb, encouraging you to keep going.

Your lips curved into a treacherous smile.

"I'll break all the hearts to get to yours, Jungkook."

And then you licked his tongue.

A low moan bubbled from Jungkook's chest, his eyes rolling back and his hips bucking up, desperate for friction as the tip of your wet muscle glided over his warm softness, your spit dripping down his throat, listening to his moans turn into messy garbles of your name, begging you, pleading you, more, more, kiss me, please, and you hooked your tongue around his, gently nudging his jaw with your other hand. Knuckle to chin, tilting your head as your lips closed onto Jungkook's.

It was not a neat kiss.

There was spit running down his chin, dripping onto his neck and your skin, your lips roughly working his, tongues intertwined and making even more of a mess, you sucking forcefully to earn pained, delicious whines. Jungkook was far too turned on to attempt to glamorize it, cries a jumbled mess under your greedy mouth, but none of that mattered. The moment was sensual and dark, bodies speaking to each other through dopamine and adrenaline. Your hand released his shirt, breaking his grip, switching to burrowing your fingers into his soft blond hair and running your nails over his scalp, leaving lines of prickling pain to enhance your kiss.

"F-Fuck, oh fuck, yes..."

Your teeth caught his tongue, pulling back and forcing his head to follow. Jungkook made a pained noise, trapped in your embrace, whining as you took him to the brink. You released him swiftly and he snapped backward, blinking hard, trying to reorient himself, but it was impossible, your lips crashing down again, thrusting your tongue into his mouth aggressively, one eye open to witness his fucked-out state, pupils unfocused, long lashes quivering, moaning into your mouth and you inhaling it all, literally taking his breath away.

It started out with a kiss.

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss.

You dropped your lower half onto his crotch and Jungkook gasped, breaking the kiss, strings of spit breaking between you two. You smirked wickedly as you felt his hardness trying to escape its clothing jail, his large hands already on your thighs and hips, sinking his fingers into the soft fabric of your leggings, rocking you into him, desperately trying to get some stimulation.

"Please," he croaked, panting for breath, pulling himself up to sitting position, so easy and smooth, fuck, so sexy, and now Jungkook was in your face, pleas on the tip of his tongue pouring out, tempting you, wanting it.

"Please, wanna be yours so fucking bad, seeing all those fucking letters and notes you get, and it pisses me off, it's me, I want it to be me, I want to be yours and I'm telling you to your face."

Whisper achingly hot, deep voice soaked with longing, staring into your eyes with those shaking brown orbs, spinning with emotion like an unstable top, barely enough torque holding it in place and all it took was another spin to encourage it or a gust of rejection to topple it over.

"And you don't even care about mine, you think they're fucking funny, fuck, I can't stand it, let it be me, please..."

His hands running up your sides, grazing against your breasts, and now his hands were in your hair and yours were in his, bringing your face close, the crumpled sky-blue note right between your joined crotches, forgotten, witnessing the agonizing lust wound tightly in this embrace.

"Let it be me," Jungkook begged.

You licked your lips slowly, scarcely swiping against his. He shuddered, leaning into it, taking whatever crumbs you gave. His long fingers tensed in your hair, yours buried in the dark roots of his.

"You'll have to skip the marriage bit for now," you teased lightly. "I don't think my parents will appreciate you slapping down papers before you finish school."

Jungkook snickered, tucking his tongue in his cheek roguishly. "Can't they understand I have to snatch this ass as soon as possible to make people back off?"

Your hands slipped down to his jaw, fitting it in your palms, his silvery-blond stands wrapped around your fingertips. "They'll back off my door once they hear you screaming my name."

You leaned in, but Jungkook stopped you, brown orbs glittering with mischief to get in one more quip.

"I doubt it," he purred.

Yeah.

Jungkook was right.

Ah, well.

You seized his face and kissed him again, fuck, such malleable lips just pleading to be bitten by you, gazing up his nose and to his beautiful eyes, his soft skin in your hands, clenching his jaw under your power, letting you have it, letting you control it and him. You felt him scramble and throw his denim jacket off, dumping it onto your couch to cup your cheeks with his hands, sighing in satisfaction as you inhaled him. Your tongue lazily traced the outskirts of his lips, hearing the rattle of his beaded bracelets by your ears, amused, knowing they were his good luck charms.

"They bring good luck," he had answered when you saw them for the first time.

You remembered tilting your head at the wooden beads on his slim wrists. "You trying to get your dick sucked or something?"

He had broken out in a loud guffaw. Nudged you with his elbow, cheeky smile on his lips.

"Never gonna say no to getting my dick sucked."

"Mhm, cool, where's my painting of the flaccid dick?"

From then on, you noticed he wore the same wooden, beaded bracelets every time he came to your apartment.

Hmm.

Now, your hands falling from his face, yanking his shirt from his pants, annoyed it was getting caught, and then Jungkook fitted his hands around your ass and lifted you easily, breaking the kiss, a moment for you to bear witness to his arms flexing – holy fuck, that’s sexy – right one covered in tattoos. Images and script, with one catching your eye, a string of words running up the inside of his upper arm. One you recognized because you had those words written on your bedroom wall, on a canvas hanging above your bed. A canvas you made, background a chaotic mess of varying dark red brushstrokes, the black script in the center, written by your hand.

The exact black script with your flourishes and ticks, now tattooed on the inside of his right arm.

Your eyes drifted to Jungkook's face and his naughty smirk, pleased to be found out. Your lips formed the sentence slowly, in awe of his audacity.

"The devil knows my name."

the devil knows my name.

Hung above your bed, where all manner of marvelous sinful acts were performed.

Jungkook grinned deviously. "I saw it. I wanted it on me."

Wanted it on him.

Oh, fuck.

Did he know? Could he guess?

"Who's the devil?" you whispered, smile widening, matching his.

Jungkook reached down, yanking his t-shirt out of his jeans and pulling it up and over his head, revealing the body he sculpted himself, tan skin taut over hard muscle, toned and...

"You're the devil, of course," he snickered.

Yours.

"Ding dong daeng," you sing-songed.

How many people have been on your bed, head pulled back by your hand, blinking hard, trying to read the words on your wall through waves of forced ecstasy? Gasping them out, ending with a question, inquiring for an answer.

The devil knows my name?

And you, leaning forward, haunting whisper in their ears, yes, she does, before pushing their face down into the sheets.

"All those love letters not good enough for you, Jungkook?" you breathed, running your hands over his bare chest, spreading your fingers, letting your exhale out through your teeth. His eyes on you, torso trembling, hairs raising, feeling your nails dance up, up, raking over his collarbones and neck, leaving little pink lines of intensity.

"They're not you," he whispered. His hands brushing over yours, outlining your fingers, eyes darkening as you pushed him back into your sofa, lowering your head. "You, the one they talk about..." Your lips on his hot skin, kissing softly, tongue so slight that it made him whimper. "You, the one they look for..." His voice, deep and rumbling, vibrating your lips, pitching as you bit and sucked, leaving small hickeys. "You, the one whose bed I sit on, wondering who else has been there, wondering why it's not me, when I make myself available to you, so easy to prey on, but you let me be..." Your lips closing around his dark brown nipple, scraping your teeth against it, making him squirm and look down at you, you and your self-satisfied, ravenous smirk.

"I let you read them," Jungkook whimpered, blond strands curled around his cheeks, chest shuddering at your nail flicking his other nipple while your mouth worked the other. "Let you see everything they want to do to me and you still didn't know."

You chuckled darkly. "What's there to know?" you mused, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the now hard pink-tinged nub, receiving small whines of pleasure as your reward. "It's obvious what you wanted. I was right in front of you. All you had to do was say something."

Jungkook frowned as you sat up, tongue in cheek, half-grinning.

"Look at you."

You crossed your arms and pulled your pink cropped sweatshirt up and over your head, dropping it to the floor. Casually running a hand through the top of your hair to pull it away from your face, gazing down at shirtless Jungkook covered in your red bites, cocking your head with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming over your figure and the curve of your breasts molded to smooth black satin.

"You look like you eat hearts for breakfast," he murmured, admiration in his tone.

The side of your lips quirked further upwards.

"And yet you wanna love me."

Jungkook grinned. "I don't want to. I already do."

And then he was the one to pull you to him, kissing you hungrily, you immediately turning it into your favor, your pace, his tongue commanded by yours as he unhooked your bra, moaning into your mouth, rubbing your exposed nipples with his palms, unable to do much as you pushed him into the couch again, guiding his tongue down with your teeth and running the tip of yours over his wet muscle once more, trickling saliva into his throat and onto his chin and neck, messy and lewd.

"The devil knows your name," you sighed into his mouth, feeling him knead your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples, tendrils of pleasure making your skin tingle. "And now the devil takes what she wants."

You saw the sides of his lips curve upwards as you backed up to strip the rest of your clothes, amused at Jungkook eagerly following suit and unbuttoning his jeans.

"Can't wait to flaunt how hot you are?" you laughed, reaching down to the shelf under the side table where a ceramic R2-D2 cookie jar sat.

"Do you think I'm hot?" Jungkook haughtily accused before gawking at your waist to ass ratio, his hands slowing, pants stopped to his knees in his distraction.

You gently took off the head of R2-D2 and plucked a condom from it. Some guy told you once that you couldn't like Star Trek and Star Wars at the same time and you told him to shut the fuck up as you slapped his nuts. He begged you to do it again. You fondly patted R2-D2's head after you fitted it back.

You straightened to see Jungkook on your couch with his hard dick on display.

You looked him dead in the eye. "You think I'd let you borrow my laptop if I thought you were ugly?"

Jungkook broke out of his trance and shrugged, finally yanking his calves – holy shit, his calves and thighs were muscular as fuck – out of his jeans, underwear and socks gone with them.

"Maybe you pitied my grades."

"I'd just pay for you to go to the library and fuck off, dumbass," you muttered, pushing his hands aside and ripping the condom open, drinking in the delicious sight of his throbbing red cock dripping pre-cum, his balls just waiting for – fuck it, you got down on your knees and wrapped your tongue around his length, Jungkook sputtering and gasping at your suddenness. Fuck, he smelled and tasted fucking good, clean and velvety to your lips enclosing around the head and sliding down, using one hand to scoop up his balls. Made eye contact with him again.

Jungkook breathed your name hesitantly.

Your tongue slid out of your lips and you jammed his cock all the way down your throat, slathering his balls wetly with your whisking tongue, circling around one and then the other, long expansive strokes that went past the girth of his cock, your pink tongue visible to him. Jungkook's pupils blew wide with shock, moans catching in his throat, whole body shivering, trying desperately not to look away even through you could tell he wanted to throw himself into your sofa and fucking lose it.

"Oooooooh, fuck, that's amazing.... Holy shit, your tongue is everything...."

You chuckled and pulled your head back, satisfied with his reaction. He seemed slightly disappointed until you rolled down the condom, cracking your neck.

"I think I've given enough." You stood up, getting back on top of him and his glorious thighs. "Time for you to be taken."

Jungkook smirked.

You smirked wider and more wickedly.

The sky-blue memo was crumpled into a ball, fallen to your hardwood floor.

Held him with two fingers, ugh, the weight of his cock, fuck yes, and those beautiful dark chocolate eyes, Jungkook, you dumbass, cursing that he didn't tell you sooner so that you could watch him groan and throw his head back like he was right now, gasping at your tightness, your name torn from his throat as you took in every centimeter of him, every pulsing vein and contour of his wonderful cock, stupid Jungkook and his attractive self not using his damn words so you could ride him like you were right now, setting up a fast, bruising pace. Your fingers dug into the back of the couch as you bucked your hips into his violently, keeping yourself tight because you were so fucking wet, fuck, so wet for Jeon Jungkook and his idiotic self, asking for internet to do his school assignments and not asking for his dick to be used as your fucking joystick.

Dumbass.

"Oh fuck," Jungkook gasped. "Oh, fuck, you're so wet and tight, shit, shit, shit..."

"Tell me something I haven't heard before," you chuckled, only half-meaning it, waving your entire body to deliver a particularly hard smack to his crotch, Jungkook whimpering under you, his hands flying to your upper arms and clutching them, trying to hold on to your wildness.

"Holy fuck, you have some hard biceps," he blurted out, startled at the prominent muscle.

Well, you haven't heard that one before.

"Guess that's what happens when you jack off a lot of dick," you mused nonchalantly.

You ticked your head to Jungkook's arms – delicious – and he frowned at you, opening his mouth to protest and you cut him off by shoving two fingers into his lips, pressing them down into the wet warmth, grinning maniacally as you watched him struggle with your fingers rubbing his tongue and his cock getting assaulted by you aggressively slamming your hips down and clamping around his stiffness, tighter, faster, whines of your name in his throat, head falling back onto the couch with a flump. You were careful not to push your fingers too far.

Getting vomited on wasn't really on your sexual activities bingo card.

Jungkook was, however, drooling down his chin and neck, and you pulled back to grab his shoulder with your wet hand – oh, fuck, his shoulder, what a lovely shape – and Jungkook wheezed for breath, you ignoring it as you focused all your energy on fucking the life out of him, dirty squelches and smacks of hips on hips, staring down at his abs and v-line, all his hard work at the gym on display, his hands still on your upper arms as he raised his hips to meet yours, needily moaning for you to destroy him with your pace.

Damn, maybe you would have sent him a love letter if you had seen him naked at least once.

"A-Ask me to cum for you," Jungkook finally got out, voice hoarse from breathing so hard for so long.

"You're going to anyway," you taunted.

"Want you to ask," he whined, almost pouting. "Tell me to do it."

You gazed into his eyes, into those brown irises overtaken by black pupils, him a top spinning by your hand, your plaything commanded by your body, pussy clenching around his twitching cock, spurred on from his pleading tone, giving him a devious and wicked grin, speaking to his swollen lips, the devil knows your name, Jungkook, and him moaning back, fuck yes she does, so close, so fucking close, unashamedly barreling towards your release, power in your veins and under you, his muscles rippling as he fucked you back, amplifying every thrust.

"Jungkook."

"Y-Yes?"

"Say it."

Brown eyes locked with yours.

"I love you. Marry me."

You smirked.

"Cum for me."

A half-second and then you let go, letting the feeling rush in and envelop you, the moment held back to torture him, and now you felt it all, already at the tipping point, strained moan as your orgasm crashed into you, shudders all over and falling, sitting all the way down in his lap to experience the throbbing ache of your core giving out and spilling onto his cock and balls in rapid bursts, viscous and sweet. The scent of sex mixing with blackberry and spiced vanilla, his length jerking inside you, and only then did you hear Jungkook crying out your name over and over, the roar in your ears fading out to his shivering moans, hands sliding up and down your arms, eyes closing and lost in the pleasure of your pussy squeezing out his cum. His touch travelling down to your waist, pulling you to him.

Messy, soft kisses, your name and curses mixed together.

"It's me, right?"

You smiled into his mouth that was still asking questions.

"Please let it be me. You'll let me love you for real, right?"

Pushing your hair back, his sweaty blond locks sticking to your face.

"Because I already do, can't stop, won't stop–"

"Yeah, Jungkook, funnily enough I figured that from the first kiss already," you chuckled, running your fingers through his ash blond hair and pulling his head back lightly, seeing him pout, the mole underneath his lower lip peeking out.

"But..."

"Hm?"

His voice suddenly small, vulnerable, his semi-hard dick still inside you.

"Do you love me?"

You lifted a brow. "What kind of dumbass question is that?" You grabbed his arm and pressed your nail into his tattoo of your words, drawing a pink scratch under them, making him gasp. "How can I not love you? Fuck, that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, my handwriting tattooed onto you. Yes, I love you, Jungkook."

Jungkook's jaw dropped.

This fool is still shocked after all this?

You reached down and held the condom down as you lifted yourself off, yanking him to his feet, pushing Jungkook to your coffee table, right in front of the pile of letters with his name all over them. You picked up your laptop and pushed it onto his chest, forcing him to hold it, him still confused, mildly stunned, not knowing what the fuck was happening.

Then you made him half-straddle your coffee table and yanked off the condom.

"Um–"

Grabbed his cock and started furiously jacking him off.

"Oh, f-fuck!"'

And then he realized what you were doing, the sheer wrongness of it, getting harder and harder with every second, throbbing in your hand.

"You're just like them," you chuckled through exerted breath.

Faster, rougher, tighter, Jungkook clutching your laptop, his larger frame leaning against yours, head thrown back so far that his blond hair was brushing your shoulder, moaning lustfully as he thrusted his hips into your grip. White pooled onto the purple-red tip of his abused cock, far too sensitive to be jacked off this hard right after orgasm, but Jungkook begged you not to stop, streams of residual cum running down your slicked fingers.

"Always looking for your fix from the addiction that's me," you whispered into his ear, laced with an authoritative growl.

You saw Jungkook's head lower out of your periphery, eyes opening, staring at the colorful envelopes with his name printed on them, the cute stickers and neat handwriting, panting your name, tendons and veins standing out on his neck, sweat beading on his tan skin.

A low, dangerous chuckle rising in his throat.

"There's a difference between them and me."

You felt his cock twitch in your hand, ridiculously hard at what you two were about to do.

"They're not going to get their fix."

Jungkook shuddered against you, jerking his hips forward, thick white strings splattering all over the pastel paper as you watched, fascinated, the scent of his cum saturating the air and the envelopes, drops soaking and smearing the carefully written ink, time wasted and defiled.

"I am," he moaned, twisting his body on your arms, leaning down to kiss you hungrily as you squeezed his cock, draining it all out, all over your coffee table and coating your hand, stained with Jeon Jungkook's love letter to you.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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katrinawritesthings · 3 years ago

Text

jonghyun / jinki; at least received; PG

hey so. maybe you noticed maybe you didn't but this april i've been doing something kind of different where instead of posting things specifically for jonghyun i've just been posting old things that i've written these past few years that. not to say that they're not for him because like everything i write is for him now lol but things that i wrote specifically when i was in my feels about him if that makes sense. for me about him

i've posted a couple before if you look you can find them and for the most part they're like the other four things i posted this month where they're like. simple and uplifting or whatever but the thing about this one is that i didn't realize i was in my feels for him until the last like 2 paragraphs and they hit kind of hard i think

not in like an angsty way or anything i don't think but hard in a way that made me go hey i should probably mention it before people read it lol anyway this one is really nice i think but if you don't want to read it then that also is chill

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asks pleasantly. Jinki blinks, and then blinks again, giving his head a little shake like he's coming back into focus. What he focuses on is Jonghyun’s eyes, looking into them with his own, looking vaguely sad in a way that Jonghyun can't exactly place.

“I'm sorry,” he says. It comes out sincerely, but also with a kind of blankness to it that makes it seem like he doesn't really know what he's apologizing for.

Jonghyun hums quietly to himself as he delicately snips away the edges of a Polaroid he took last month. He cuts away the white border, the legs of both him and the chair he's sitting in, and hesitates before he actually closes the scissors to cut through the blue of the sky above his head. He likes that. It was a nice day outside at that little cafe. He'll keep it in.

Putting the scissors down, he grabs the glue stick instead and flips the photo over to glue up the back. Then he slaps it down, not carefully but not exactly carelessly either, into the scrapbook page he's working on. He doesn't really have a theme that he's going with it yet; he's kind of just winging it with this one. He feels like it's coming along though, Polaroids of him and other stuff outside, shots of the sky, shots of trees and bushes planted neatly on the street, one picture of a neat bug that he saw crawling on the sidewalk one time.

Then he picks up one of his glittery gel pens to write the date down, but hesitates with the purple in his hand. He's not sure if it really fits with the color scheme of the page. Looking up, at Jinki sitting kitty corner to him at the kitchen table immersed in his laptop, he reaches out and gently pokes him with the end of the pen.

“Hey,” he smiles when Jinki looks up. He wiggles the purple pen and taps the scrapbook page with his other hand. “do you think this would be good? Right here?” he asks, pointing to just under the picture.

“Mmm,” Jinki hums. “maybe the dark purple instead of the light,” he says, pointing at all of the little art supplies strewn over the table. The direction his finger is pointing in is so vague that Jonghyun is barely sure he's even directing it at the pens, let alone the dark purple, but he grabs the pen anyway with a bright smile.

“Thanks,” he chirps, grabbing the dark purple and uncapping it. He picks up the scrap pieces from the Polaroid as well, sorting through them until he finds the one and that he needs and copying down the date and location written on the bottom of it. Then he continues on his work, looking through his mounds of pictures and stickers and decorations to arrange well on the page and make it look just like the image of it that he has in his mind.

Which isn't really a picture perfect image in the first place; it's just as vague in his brain as the theme is, so he's not really following any sort of guideline at all, except maybe “cute,” but that's always what's the most fun to him. To have an idea in his head and then just work with it and let it happen and allow it to come out naturally, piece-by-piece, mistakes included, until he has something that he can look at and be proud of because it's something that he made by himself.

“Jinki?” he asks at one point, holding up two soft little felt birds, one blue and the other pink. He looks up a second after, to ask for Jinki’s opinion, and finds Jinki looking at him in a way that suggests he already had been for a long time, like he never really looked back down after Jonghyun’s question about the gel pens.

“Both, I think,” Jinki says, before Jonghyun can dwell on that feeling and ask about it. Instead he looks down at his scrapbook, at the right corner of the page that he was going to ask which bird would look better in. Instead, he pictures both birds there facing each other, giving each other a little bird smooch, and is instantly filled with delight at the idea.

“You're so right,” he says, and goes back to his work, none the wiser to Jinki’s alleged staring except for how he is incredibly wise to it now.

It's hard not to be wise to it; it's hard not to notice someone staring at you after you've already noticed them staring at you. He feels it in the way that it creeps over his skin, he hears it in the way that he doesn't hear Jinki’s fingers tapping away on his laptop, he sees it every time he glances up curiously just to check if Jinki is still, in fact, staring at him. He definitely is.

He doesn't comment on it at first, but eventually, his curiosity gets the better of him and he takes a break from his scrapbooking to prop his chin in his hand and smile contemplatively at Jinki.

“I'm sorry,” he says. It comes out sincerely, but also with a kind of blankness to it that makes it seem like he doesn't really know what he's apologizing for. So Jonghyun decides to find out in the simplest way that he knows how.

“For what?” he asks, an amused little smile playing with the corners of his mouth. He doesn't want to laugh, because he feels like that would be mean, but this is still kind of funny to him. Jinki opens his mouth, and then closes it and then shrugs vaguely, running his fingers through his hair.

“I don't know, really,” he says. His hand falls to slap lightly on the surface of the table, and then rises to hold his own cheek. “I'm just,”, he says. “Sorry.” And there's something heavy in the way he says it, something serious, and that makes it stop being as funny. Jonghyun chews on the end of his glitter gel pen, watching Jinki sit there and be apologetic.

Apologetic, he thinks. That's the vaguely sad emotion that he couldn't place half a minute ago. Which really doesn't help him now, to be honest, because knowing the emotion doesn't have jack shit to do with knowing the reasoning behind it. He looks down for a moment, and then back up, one of his eyes kind of scrunched in a teasing, but still gentle grimace.

“Is this just you having another one of your self-flagellation parties?” he asks. It feels like the sort of thing that would warrant a vague, unprompted, external apology. Vague, unprompted, internal self depreciation.

“What?” Jinki asks, this time with a blankness that denotes confusion instead of unrealised existential emotions. “No, I—do I really do that a lot?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned. Jonghyun lessons his grimace into more of a comforting, sympathetic smile and shakes his head.

“Not as much as you're thinking that you do, but enough for it to be a thing,” he says kindly. He kind of thought that Jinnki knew it was a thing that he did already. He's been parlay to quite a few of Jinki’s pity parties himself. Not that pity parties are a bad thing, necessarily, or anything, just that they’re a thing that Jinki does sometimes and that's okay, as long as he comes out of them on the other end feeling better and less down on himself, which he usually does. “You haven't started hating yourself for no reason in a while, so I was just curious.” Jonghyun says. Just curious if maybe another one had come up so he would know if it was time for him to be lovely and adorable and comforting or not.

“Oh,” Jinki says. He looks troubled for a moment—Jonghyun wonders for an equally long moment whether or not he just spurred one along anyway—but then shakes his head decisively. “No, it's not that, it's nothing about me,” he says. “I just. I don't know.” he shrugs, and looks at the table, and then looks at Jonghyun. He reaches out a hand to cup Jonghyun cheek this time, warm and gentle, running a thumb softly over his cheekbone. “C’mere,” he says, scooting his chair back and reaching to tug on Jonghyun’s wrist at the same time.

Jonghyun, mildly baffled but without any excuse or reason or even desire to say no, obeys. He lets Jinki tug him out of his chair and into his lap, sitting across his thighs. With a soft oh, Jonghyun finds himself being enveloped in Jinki’s nice warm arms, his cheek tucked into his chest, his head kissed softly by his mouth. He hugs Jinki back, because he wants to, one arm around his back and the other crossing his chest to hook under his arm and around his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Jonghyunnie,” Jinki mumbles.

Sitting there, in Jinki’s lap, with Jinki’s arms warm around him, Jinki’s lungs and heart moving slow under him, and Jinki’s words inside his head, an apology not from Jinki exactly, but just delivered by him, Jonghyun feels like maybe. Maybe, or maybe definitely. Yeah, definitely definitely. He deserves it. In the same way that Jinki inexplicably knew that he deserved to be given an apology, Jonghyun knows that he deserves to hear it.

So he accepts it, turning his face into Jinki’s chest and squeezing him close. He doesn't exactly forgive, but he accepts that it was given to him and, with Jinki pressing another soft kiss to his hair, says, “Okay.”

#jongyu #jongyhun #onew #jinki #pg #fluff #oneshot #ydw #🌙

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lavishedinjimin · 6 years ago

Text

brother’s best friend - jjk (M)

↳ Pairing: jungkook x reader

↳ genre: SMUT

↳ Word count: 5.3k

↳ Warnings: intense smut, overstimulation, choking, spanking, dirty talk, dom!jungkook, oral sex (receiving), bbf!jungkook, and all unholy things that would put me to hell

— synopsis: In which Y/n owns a smut blog dedicated to her crush and brother’s best friend, jungkook. it was all fun and games until he finds out about it and acts it out with you.

a/n: since tumblr links aren’t working, I suggest you to go to my blog description and check out my masterlist!

“Y/n! Come here quickly!” You heard your mom shout from the living room, quickly closing your laptop and ran downstairs. You tried not to lose your balance as you simultaneously fixed your hair up in a messy bun as you took quick steps down. “Y/n, I swear … calm down, or else you’re gonna fall.” You heard your brother Taehyung, said with complete worry evident in his voice.

Your mom was already attired in a business casual uniform with her hair up in a neat ponytail. She swung her bag over her shoulder and took the car keys from the empty jar that was set in the middle of the dining table. “I’m about to go now,” she started, grabbing ahold of her suitcase, “you two better not fight and always be good to each other okay?"

You can feel that Taehyung rolled his eyes, yet it doesn’t surprise you if he really did. "You,” your mom tended to your brother, “don’t do anything stupid in this house. Don’t hold any parties whatsoever, don’t invite people over, and especially don’t trash this whole place down.” Taehyung smiled, promising an ‘okay’ to her. You scoffed.

“And you, Y/n, make sure that your brother doesn’t do anything stupid."

"Mom~” Taehyung whined, “Mom we’re not eleven anymore."

"I know that, but you sometimes act like one."

Saying goodbye to your mom was kinda sad, as she was about to go in a one week business trip to Bangkok. Part of you was glad that you’d finally have some sort of freedom, but part of you will always miss her. When her uber drove off, you proceeded to go back upstairs to your room to finish what you were previously doing.

As you were taking a hot and steamy shower, you can’t help but fantasize about him again. You know that musing about your brother’s best friend remains messed up, but the way how he looks at you and the way that he presents himself makes you head over heels for him.

Jeon Jungkook, 21, and a natural flirt believe it or not.

Some may call it revolting, but you run a blog dedicated to all of your thirsty thoughts about him; not saying his name, of course. You post your deepest and darkest fantasies about him, and no one knows that it’s about your brother’s best friend.

You often saw him shirtless, exposing his hot abs and muscular body to your own eyes. Your imagination drifted to the time where Taehyung held a little pool party between his friends. But when your mother found out that you weren’t invited, she persuaded Taehyung to invite his own little sister too. You didn’t really like the idea of swimming with a bunch of dudes and no ladies, but when you overheard that Jungkook was also coming, your judgment changed completely.

“Hey, Y/n, lookin’ good.” One of his friends, Seokjin, wooed when you first stepped out of the house with a one-piece bikini. Taehyung rolled his eyes and smacked him on his arm, “Ouch! Okay, okay, sorry.”

You couldn’t help but sneak a few glances to Jungkook. He was shirtless, only wearing his swimming trunks as he laid on one of the long chairs by the pool. He had his head tilted back as the sun kissed his skin, providing a stunning glow on his skin. You bit your lip, shaking your head. Now’s not the time.

You masturbated and used your trusty vibrator to the thought of him. And it would be an utter hell if Taehyung ever finds out.

You were knocked out of your dark thoughts when you heard rapid knocks to the door, "Y/n! Are you here?” Taehyung’s voice asked. “Yeah, why?” You turned out the water for a second to hear what he has to say.

“Can we borrow your laptop? It’s for a project!"

You groaned, tilting your head back, "No! Use your own!"

"We’re already using mine. We need two."

You rolled your eyes, already annoyed. "Whatever, fine."

"Yay, thanks.” You can hear him already stepping away from the door until another question pops up inside your mind, “Wait! Who are you with? Who’s gonna use mine?"

"Jeon Jungkook!"

Your eyes went completely wide, mouth open in hysteria. Your brain couldn’t seem to function, and no other words were spilling out of your mouth. You wanted to scream, to bring back every word you said and to just run out of the shower to grab your laptop away from him – but you know you were too late.

Jungkook’s point of view:

"So what did she say?” I asked as I saw Taehyung returning back from upstairs. He grinned, revealing Y/n’s laptop from his back where he was previously hiding it. Seeing all of the cute stickers that surfaced the most part of her laptop made me smirk. “Here,” he gave the laptop to me as I set it up on top of the marble island.

“Does it have a password?"

"Yeah, it’s ’mypassword’. All lowercase, no space.”

A chuckle emitted from my lips as I looked at Taehyung, who sat across from me, already indulged in his own laptop. “How do you know that?"

"I just notice her typing it in sometimes."

My fingers typed the password the way how Taehyung said, and it unlocks. The first thing that appeared on the screen made my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Examining the whole page, I noticed that it was run by her. It was her account, and it was filled with all kinds of dirty fantasies. I bit my lip scrolling down to search for more. I knew that it was so wrong to invade someone’s privacy like this and just pretend that I didn’t see anything – but I couldn’t believe that someone like her thinks about all these nasty thoughts.

[ Imagine your dom fucking you against the wall, lifting one of your legs up as he chokes you with his other hand ]

[ Your dom overstimulating you to the point where your legs shake, begging that you can’t take it any further but it just fuels him to fuck you harder ]

[ ughhhh just the thought of someone wrapping their hand around your throat, whispering praises in your ear for how good you’ve been for them ]

[ fuck, when a guy has that cocky smirk turns me on so much ]

[ Your dom spanking you to the point where your ass turns red as he punishes you for being bad ]

I gulped, feeling a little bit turned on. I always saw Y/n as an innocent and a serene girl, but fuck was I wrong. My eyes go to an anonymous question that was sent to her, asking;

[ Q: ‘Do you have a dom??’ ]

[ - no, just someone who inspires me lmao ]

[ Q: ‘who is it then???’ ]

[ - i can’t say the name obviously, woman. ]

[ Q: Initials? ]

[ - jjk ;) ]

I almost choked on my own saliva after I saw the letters. I didn’t want to assume too fast, but I was certain that I’m the only person that she knows that has those initials. I smirk at the thought of Y/n having these dirty thoughts about me when she looks like an actual angel – so pure.

I look up at Taehyung, who was apparently already staring at me with a confused look. “You good there?” he asked, nodding his head in my direction. I smirk furthermore, “Yeah.”

“Okay. Now go to google docs.”

You were panicking like shit, trying to put your clothes on properly. You were struggling to hike up your leggings, resulting in hopping on one foot as you almost lost your balance. You ran downstairs as fast as you could, praying that Jungkook has not opened your laptop yet.

But as soon you were at the end of the staircase, you turned to your left and saw the two boys sitting at the marble islands, looking at your drained state.

Your breathing was heavy, and you looked like you had just run a marathon. “What’s up with you, Y/n?” Taehyung asked, completely annoyed by your presence.

You meet Jungkook’s eyes across the room who was staring at you intensely with a smirk. You gulped, seeing how he eyed you up and down. You suddenly felt small. “I-I need my laptop back.”

“What? Why? We’re using it already.” Taehyung groaned.

“Please, can I have it back? I-I forgot that I had work to do as well.”

Taehyung looked at Jungkook, “What do you say?”

“It’s okay,” he replied but never keeping his eyes away from you, “you can have it back.” He closed the cover, waiting for you to take your laptop back. You held your breath as you took the courage to walk over to them and retrieve your laptop from him. You seized a quick glance at Jungkook, and you noticed how he smirked at gave you a quick wink. Your eyes widen, quickly turning around as you were clutching your laptop tightly to your chest.

You were fucked.

Next day:

You were almost considering about deleting your account just because of how humiliated you’ve become.

Taehyung said that Jungkook was going to come back again just to finish their project. Meaning, another day of hiding all day inside the comfort of your room. Your laptop – that goddamn thing – was on the other side of your room, charging as you were staring blankly at the white ceiling above you. Your hair was all messy and tangled from all of the tuggings you have been doing for the past hour.

‘He must’ve seen everything’, you thought to yourself as you closed your eyes. You reminisced about your recent posts that he might have seen and you immediately remembered the questions about having a ‘dom’. “Fuck!” you yelled, rubbing your face with your hands. You continuously kicked the sheets below you in rage, even throwing a pillow aimed to your laptop. “Why did I even think about posting his initials?” you whined, trapping your face with a pillow and let out a muffled groan.

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes until you calmed yourself down. You stood up from the comfort of your bed and looked at yourself in the mirror. Letting out a chuckle, you shook your head. “You fucking idiot,” you told yourself. You grabbed a comb and fixed your hair, taking your time to relax.

Just the thought of your crush finding out that you run a filthy blog just for him made you insane. You probably couldn’t even look at his eyes anymore, and you just pray to God that he doesn’t tell Taehyung about this. Because if he does, you were seriously deliberating about moving out of the house, blocking every connection from him and just disappear.

But did you regret doing the blog, though? Not really. Jungkook was seriously a hot guy. The way how he walks like he’s better than any other model there is, how the veins on his forearms are so prominent and visible, or how luscious his thighs are - makes you drool. He can literally be a cute bunny and turn into a hot daddy afterward. His fucking duality.

You found yourself daydreaming about him again and you mentally slapped yourself. You groaned at yourself and continued your little grooming session.

It was after a while until Taehyung literally texted your phone saying that Jungkook has just arrived; as if you needed the alarm. You replied with a simple “k” and decided to open your laptop. You logged in into your account and uploaded a post.

[ Okay, update. My crush knows that this blog is about him 💀]

After a moment, someone replied.

[ - Is this the jjk guy? ]

[ Yup. ]

[ - oh. Im the anon who asked the initals. woops #sorrynotsorry ]

[ you’re gonna pay for this, anon. I swear eye– ]

[ - girl, maybe I just made you a favor ]

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, about to type a reply before a knock the door refrained you from your actions. You looked up, waiting for the person on the other side to say anything. Nothing. Tilting your head to the side in confusion, you stood up from your desk and walked over to the door, about to open it but another set of knocks came.

With a huff, you finally opened the door. “What do you wa—”

The person you were least expecting was on the other side, almost making you lose your balance.

“J-Jungkook?”

He smirked smugly, combing his hair back, making his arms flex involuntarily. He stepped forward, making you take a shy step back as he leaned himself against the doorframe. “Y/n,” he smiles, crossing his arms in front of him. Your breathing was heavy and you tried your hardest to look away, but something in his eyes prevents you from doing it. He caught you within him, and Jungkook has something planned.

“W-where’s Tae?” You asked quietly, not trusting your voice. Jungkook laughs silently as he steps forward, coming inside of your room. He looks at your bed then turns to you again, “Can I sit here?”

“Oh, um, of course.” You forced a little smile. He smiles back at you as he sits down at the edge of your bed as you try not to literally drool. He wore black skinny jeans and with a white shirt tucked in. Even when he wore the simplest clothing he’ll still look good in them. You stood there awkwardly, playing with your nimble fingers until he signaled you to come closer. Your eyes widen for a second and you gulp. You obeyed him and you were now standing between his knees. He looks up at you and smiled. “Tae has gone to the mall to get a few things for our project.”

“And you didn’t go with him?” You asked. He chuckles, carefully holding your left hand and caressing it. Your breath hitched, biting your lip unconsciously.

“No, I told him I’d stay here. And besides,” Jungkook suddenly tugs on your arm, making you jolt forward and lay on his lap, “we have a lot to talk about.” You couldn’t breathe, everything seems to happen so fast. You heard him chuckle, caressing your backside. He holds your hips in place so that you couldn’t move. His stern grip on your sides makes you want to let out a moan, but you tried your hardest to prevent that.

“Jungkook…I –”

“Tell me, y/n. Was your blog dedicated to me?” he asked as he raised one brow up. You looked down in humiliation. You were about to say some lame excuse until he firmly gripped your chin, making you look deep into his brown irises. You tried to look away but his hold didn’t let you. He chuckled, “One word, baby. We’re you thinking about me when you post in that filthy little blog of yours?”

You sighed, the pet name making you feel some time of way, “Yes.”

Your answer resulted in him smirking, shaking his head. “You’re such a naughty little girl, aren’t you? Thinking about your brother’s best friend to fuck you. Is that what you want?”

The bluntness in his voice made you gasp lightly, not believing what you just heard. “Jungkook, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“A simple sorry isn’t gonna fix this, Y/n. Now, lay across my lap.”

You couldn’t believe what was happening, your every fantasy was about to come to life, and to be honest, you weren’t ready. You obeyed his instruction and you had your stomach pressed against his thighs, your knees touching the floor. He grabbed both of your wrists and encaptured them in one of his hands, pressing it against your back. You took a deep breath, knowing what was about to come. “Look at you,” he says, “laid across my lap like this. Do you know why you’re in this position, babygirl?” You whined at the name that he used, closing your eyes. “Answer me.” He grips your wrists tighter, making you wince. “Y-yes.”

“And why’s that?”

“B-because…” he started to remove your leggings down slowly, teasing you. “Because? Hmm?”

“Because I’ve been bad.”

He hums in approval, removing the material from your ass completely. Your white laced underwear exposed to him makes him growl, his member starting to grow. He runs a hand over your soft skin gently, caressing it carefully then squeezing it right after. You yelped in surprise. “Should I spank you for that, baby? Should I spank this pretty ass of yours until it’s red?”

You moaned, nodding your head as he chuckles. “Count for me.”

His right hand meets your right cheek harshly, leaving a filthy sound from the collision. You jolted forward, not expecting that he’d go hard immediately. “One.”

“You dirty little slut,” he hits you again, much harder than before as you mumble a ‘two’, “You like to be spanked, don’t you?” he hits you again, this time moaning out loud. “Three.” The lewd noises that the impact makes with the pleasurable pain already made you wet. His hold on your wrists tightens as he smacks you again. “Fucking answer.” He growls, and you obey him. “Y-yes. I do like it.”

He hits you for the fifth, sixth, seventh, and until it climbs up to the twentieth and you were knocked out. “Jungkook, p-please stop.” You had tears coming out from the corners of your eyes, both from the pain and the pleasure that every hit brings. He scoffs as he clashes his big hand on your left cheek for the last time. “T-twenty one,” you sniff. He removes your leggings off of your legs entirely as he lifts you up. He places you back on his lap in a straddling position. He wipes your tears off of your cheeks with his thumb gently, looking at your flushed face tenderly.

“So good for me, angel.” He whispers.

He himself looks flushed, his cheeks were red and so were yours. Spanking was one of his kinks as well, and we just loves how your body reacts to him. He lifts his hand up to your hair and removes your ponytail, leaving your gorgeous hair to fall down and frame your face. He smiles up at you and caresses your cheeks, pressing your face into his palm.

He looks at your lips for a second and locks his eyes back to yours, “Can I kiss you, Y/n?”

You nodded, forcing a small smile. Within a flash, he pressed his lips into yours. Your mouths fit perfectly, dancing together with a hot rhythm. He controls the kiss, pulling you closer to him. He swipes his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for entrance as you submitted to him, opening your mouth slightly so that his tongue can slip in. You moaned in the kiss as your tongues fought for dominance which he easily won.

His right hand slid down your stomach until it reached the hem of your shirt, tugging it playfully. His hand was so close to where you badly needed him, but you were too shy to ask. You whined as you teasingly wiggled your ass. He groaned at your movements, his dick already painfully hard against his jeans. He moves his hand further down until he ghosts it above your underwear. “Can I touch you here babygirl?”

“Yes, p-please.” You closed your eyes as you felt his hand cup your heat, you can feel your wetness soaking through the fabric. “Shit, Y/n. You’re so wet.” He presses his long fingers against the thin cloth firmly, making you moan. You can feel his member twitch beneath you. “Did your punishment made you this wet, huh? You’re so goddamn naughty, baby.” He growls as he pushes your underwear to the side as he collects your juices with two fingers, sliding them up and down teasingly. You moan out his name, the feeling of his fingers were already too much for you. He slid his digits up and down, soaking them until he brings his hand in front of your mouth. “Taste yourself, baby.”

You brought your face closer as you wrapped your mouth around his fingers, sucking them clean. Your own taste wasn’t unfamiliar, as you have done that many times before. He bit his lip as he groaned, loving the feeling of your mouth sucking on his digits as you would on his cock. He bought his hand back down and abruptly slid two fingers inside your pussy, making you gasp loudly. You rolled your eyes back and your mouth formed an ‘o’. “F-fuck, Jungkook.”

He slowly thrusts his digits in and out, producing lewd and wet noises. “A-ahh, p-please. Faster.” You begged, making him smirk. “Hmm, faster? Want it faster?”

You nod vigorously as he complies, fucking your hole faster and harder. The lustful sounds that it made plus seeing how his arms flex makes you moan out loud. You rest your forehead on his right shoulder, your body giving up on you. He chuckles, fucking you even faster. “You like that, baby?”

“Yes.” You moaned, closing your eyes tightly as you felt a familiar knot on your stomach. He can feel you clenching around his fingers, signaling your high.

“You look so fucking hot, Y/n. You gonna come for me baby? Come on, spill your cum all over my fingers.” He suddenly presses his thumb on your clit, making you jump from the addition of pleasure. He rubs your clit roughly, making you whine against his tshirt. “I-I’m gonna…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as you clenched your walls around his fingers tightly, your cum coating his digits. “Fuuuuck”, you dragged out, legs shaking. You haven’t come this hard before, and the feeling was all new for you. It was addicting. “Shit,” he chuckles, removing his fingers and tasting your cum. He made you look at him as he wraps his mouth around his own fingers, keeping his eye contact on yours. “Taste better than I imagined it, love.”

He places his hands underneath your arms as he lifts you up, and placed you down on the soft mattress of your bed. He hovers above you, removing his shirt and exposing his abs that you’ve seen countless of times. You whined, crossing your legs together at the sight. He chuckles, moving a hand in between your thighs and parting them away from each other. “I’m gonna clean you up, babygirl.”

He moves himself down, removes your underwear as he positions his head in between your thighs. He licks a bold stripe from your entrance up to your clit, making you moan out loud. You were still so sensitive from the orgasm you had earlier, and your legs were shaking from the pleasure. He held your hips down with his hands as he licks you clean. “You taste so fucking sweet baby.” He groans, diving in into your wetness and collecting your juices. You tugged on his hair, making him moan against your pussy. The vibration made your insides turn from the immense pleasure. He starts wrapping his lips around your little bundle of nerves, sucking on it as he flicks his tongue around it at the same time. His actions made you tug on his hair harder and scream out loud.

Little did you know you were cumming for a second time, legs frantically shaking as you spilled on his mouth. He was quick to catch everything with his mouth, not wanting to waste even a little drop of your cum.

He brings his mouth upwards to yours, making you taste yourself on him for a second time. “Jungkook…” you whined, wanting more.

He removes your shirt, exposing your bare chest for him that results to a guttural moan coming from him. He kneads your breasts, making you whimper, the little buds hardening. He kneels in front of you, undoing the buttons of his jeans and pulling the zip down. Being impatient, you reached out to remove his jeans but his hands were faster and he refrained you from doing your plan. “Nuh-uh, be patient,” he smirks. He pulls his jeans down with his boxers, revealing his manhood.

You whined, seeing how hard he has become because of you made you bit you lip. He strokes his cock a couple of times, his precum helping him in sliding his hand much smoother. You loved watching him like this in front of you, how his abs and biceps flex in front of you, his forehead sweaty and how he groans your name out lout. You couldn’t even believe that this was actually happening in front of you.

He positions himself at your entrance, supporting his weight with his forearms. “W-wait, Jungkook!” Your eyes widen from the sudden realization, placing your hands on his sweaty chest. He stops his tracks, furrowing his brows. “Yes, baby?”

“Protection.” You smirk at him as you reached towards your bedside drawer and grabbing a condom from the box you hid by covering it with colored paper, so no one could suspect a thing. Jungkook chuckles as you hand him the rubber, sliding it down his shaft. “You’re so fucking cute, you know that?”

He places the tip at your entrance, sliding just the tip until you’ve gotten used to his size. You breathed heavily, clawing his back. “Go on.” You whispered and he slid his cock inside of you. The both of you moaned, closing your eyes and getting used to the feeling. You were so tight around him, your walls clenching and it took him lots of self-control to not pound into you just like that.

“Jungkook – ah shit, you’re so big.”

He groans, followed by a chuckle, “Yeah?”

“Yes, so big.”

After a moment, you motioned for him to move. You were so wet already that it was easy for him to ease himself in and out of you. He pulled out until the very tip was at your entrance, then abruptly pounds into you unexpectedly. He did this a few times, making you scream out in pleasure. “O-oh, Jungkook!”

“That’s right baby, scream out my name so that the neighbors can hear who’s making you feel this good.” He groans in your ear, fucking you roughly. Rapid breathing, moans, and the skin-slapping sounds were the only noise thing filling this room. You just hoped that your brother wasn’t home yet.

He suddenly brings his right up to your neck, wrapping it around your throat as he chokes you just right. You roll your eyes back from the pleasure. The feeling of his big hand wrapped around your jugular plus his hard and deep thrusts almost made you cum then and there.

“You liked being choked, don’t you, Y/n?” he chuckles, gripping your throat a little tighter and fucking you harder, “You said it in your blog, right? Its one of your dirty little fantasies.” He whispers. You only nod, struggling to form any sentence in your brain.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, hmm? Letting me take over your cute little body as I ruin you,” he smirks cockily as he pounds harder, making you scream as you close your eyes tight. “Have you been dreaming about this, baby? Do you have dreams about me fucking you hard and rough like this?”

“Y-yes,” you faintly reply, scratching his back with your nails. That action made him throw his head back in pleasure, revealing his neck that had protruding veins on the sides. “I always thought that you were such a pure and innocent little girl, baby. I never thought that you’d be this dirty.” His thrusts were even roughly than before – and boy does he have good stamina.

“A-ahh, Jungkook, I’m gonna…” You can feel yourself pulsing around him again and he groans darkly, using his free hand to rub your clit harshly. “You gonna come for me again, yeah? Come on baby, you can do it.”

You were feeling so fucked out already but you want to cum for the third time today. He presses his chest on yours, both sweaty bodies colliding and as close as you could possibly get. His thrusts became sloppy, signaling that his high was close as well. “Hold it in.”

Your eyes widen at him, creasing your brows. “W-what?”

You couldn’t hold it it, you couldn’t. The way how he pounds into you makes it hard for you to prevent your cum to spill all over his member. “I-I can’t,” you shake your head. Jungkook groans, feeling how tight you’ve become. “I know you can. Fucking hold it in, baby. We’re gonna come together.”

He fucked you faster and harder until he was almost about to come, “Now, angel, cum with me.” The both of you released together and it was pure bliss. You couldn’t contain how hard your legs were trembling from how intense your orgasm was. You covered your mouth with your hand as your orgasm kept going. “S-shit, baby.” Jungkook chuckles, “You came so fucking hard.” He tilts his head to the side, admiring your exquisite body quivering from the pleasure. He removed the condom that was filled with cum and tied it, throwing it on the bin at the corner of your room. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss on your lips, trying to calm you down as he ran his hands down your sides. “Hey, hey,” he smiles, pressing down on your hips and trapping them on the mattress, “breathe, babygirl.”

You mustered out a weak smile and you giggled, “Jungkook…” you tried to form words but your body didn’t let you, you were absolutely fucked out. He laughs quietly, brushing away the strands of hair that were stuck on your forehead. “You did so good for me, really. So good.” He whispered, pressing a kiss on your lips once again.

Jungkook stands up and swoops you bridal style and carried you towards your bathroom. He sat you on top of the marble counter as he searches the cupboards for a towel. You were still breathing a little rapidly, your chest heaving up and down. He returns back to you with a towel and he cleans you up with it. The rough side of Jungkook that you had just seen has now disappeared and you were greeted with a sweet and caring side of him. “Jungkook, uh, for real…” you started, he looked at you for a mere second and continued his little duty on you, “Hmm?”

“Im sorry for, well, making that blog. I, um…I just really, really like you a lot and I couldn’t help myself.” You looked down with a blush creeping your face. You heard him scoff playfully and he made you focus your gaze at him. “Y/n, don’t be sorry about that. It’s normal for us humans to feel like that for another person, okay? I like you too.”

Your eyes widen and your heartbeat almost stops from his sudden confession, “Y-you do?”

“Yes, silly. Why would I fuck you like that if I’m not attracted to you?”

“Oh,” you begin to blush even more, making him chuckle. “You’re so cute, really, Y/n.”

“Wait, what about Taehyung though? W-what if he finds out about us?”

Jungkook smiles as he positions himself in between your legs. He pressed a gently kiss on your chin, to your nose, then up to your forehead. “Angel,” he starts, “I’ve actually told Tae countless of times how much I like her little sister.” He chuckles when your eyes enlarge once again, “he knows that I like you, and I think he’s gonna be fine with it.”

You couldn’t help but to feel a sudden relief. Thank god.

Abruptly, a loud knock on the bedroom door interrupts your mood, “Hey, assholes! I hope you know that Y/n’s room isn’t soundproof at all, and I heard everything!”

You and Jungkook looked at each other at the same time with a cheeky smile plastered on your faces, “Shit.”

____________

Check out my masterlist on my blog for more and leave a note if you enjoyed, it will really inspire me to continue <3

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geekeryandsentiment · 5 years ago

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I remember you telling us, you know quite a bit about all the kiddo’s rooms. Can you describe them for us? And why did Liz wanna rearrange her room? (as mentioned in the silent treatment) Also, You had mentioned chalkboard paint once, and I found that idea so cool😍

Hey there! You send this in about four years ago and I just didn’t have the time to answer when you sent it in and then idk, I just got lazy and let it sit in my inbox for a while...however, here’s your answer, sorry about that. This one is below the cut and I’m warning you it’s loooooong. Sorry lol, I got a lot carried away. I hope it was worth the wait lol. Sorry again.

Before I forget...Lizzie just wanted to rearrange things. Sometimes moving the direction the furniture is facing can help spice things up a bit. If i remember correctly she was 11/12ish during the silent treatment and around that age Arthur pulled out his old desk from storage and put it in her room, so possibly she thought of a better way to rearrange her furniture to put that desk in the place she wanted it?

Liam’s room is like his happy space. There is no theme or reason to anything. It’s all completely random. He’s still got posters and trinkets from his first year attending school and even before that. Alby’s art is plastered on his walls and he has old birthday cards and little notes that he and Alex used to pass back and forth in lessons tacked up on his walls as well. He has repainted it 4ish times since he was eleven and his parents repainted one of the other rooms (the one that would eventually become Alby’s room) and he decided it looked fun and wanted to try it. One time, when he was sixteen, he endured his room being pink for almost three months over the summer because Elizabeth dared him to do it when he was discussing possible color changes and he didn’t have anything else to do that next day (and has absolutely nothing against the color pink) so decided to take everything off his walls and paint them pink just to show her that he would. His room is currently green and the wall that had chalkboard paint on it is accented a darker brown (the green did NOT properly cover up the chalkboard with only two coats and he didn’t have any more green so he had to improvise). For several years he had a whole wall of chalkboard paint (the around his door) and he and Alex were entertained by that for many many hours in their preteen years. He is the only one of the kiddos to have a TV in his room. He didn’t get it until he was thirteen and he had to practically trade away his soul to convince Waverly to allow it, but he and Alex also had a lot of fun playing video games on that throughout the years. He has Theo’s old room, and Theo is very crafty with his hands. When he was younger he installed bookcases into the same wall his two windows are on, so William has bookcases surrounding his two windows that go from his ceiling to his floor. They are covered in books, some of which he will never read but owns anyway simply because he likes the cover and think they look cool. The other furniture in his room doesn’t match all all. Like at all. For the most part that is because he has broken a lot of the pieces that used to match and instead of doing what Waverly wanted to do and reordering the pieces or even picking something that matches the remaining stuff, Liam just picked out things he liked as replacements, even if they clashed with the other things in his room already.

Alex’s room is a bit more themed and put together, but it’s also always messy. It’s not dirty. It’s regularly cleaned and he makes his bed every morning (and if he dared leave food wrappers or any food in his room Waverly would have his head) but it’s cluttered most of the time. He doesn’t really mind if things are on the floor or if his desk is stacked three feet high with different files and textbooks and Lord knows what else. He knows where everything is. He manages to stay ahead with his schoolwork and keep everything straight, so Arthur and Waverly don’t hound him too often to make sure his room is as neat as they would like. His room is pretty typical. It’s painted a dark, navy blue and he has a whole lot of red (his curtains and bed sheets) and grey (his comforter and bean bag) accents. He does have a giant beanbag in the back corner behind his bed that Alby loves to fall asleep in sometimes, though. His bedroom used to belong to Beatrice when she lived in the palace when Arthur was younger, but her pink walls were painted over when he was about one years old and Arthur and Waverly decided to stick him in the room beside William’s. It’s nothing too fancy. William’s room is definitely far more interesting with the built in bookshelves (and wait until you hear about Lizzie’s room...🤭) but it’s his home. That’s his safe space. When he feels like the whole world is against him, the only place he wants to be besides maybe on his piano bench, is his own bedroom.

Elizabeth’s room has changed colors a few times throughout the years too, but it’s stayed purple, just different shades. Her room is across the hall from Liam and Alex’s and on the same side of the quarters as the sitting room, meaning her windows overlook the palace gardens. She has a large, three window set up with a small cushioned seating area that extends out from the wall a little bit. When she was younger she had a few cushions and a mattress pad there and her and Alex would have sleepovers in her room all the time. They would look up at the stars and she would try to point out constellations. Now, that mattress pad is used every once in a while for Alby if he wants to spend the night in her room, but more often it’s tucked away and she just uses the area to sit on her laptop or read. In the corner she has a large corner desk with a desktop computer with two monitors. She doesn’t have a TV, and she doesn’t really need one because she has a pretty sweet set up there. Her desk belonged to Arthur when he was younger (no, none of the children are in his old bedroom. Too many unhappy memories. That’s used as a guest bedroom now, and only if there are too many guest to fill up the other two rooms) and still has his initials carved into the corner from when he got bored and engraved them one day when he was about twelve with an old key he found. Her room is more themed than Liam’s, her furniture matches, even Arthur’s desk fits in really well with the other black pieces, but there isn’t really a color scheme or anything. Lizzie doesn’t really care about that. She just fills it with things she likes. Oh, she also has a blacklight in her room and an epic solar system hanging from her ceiling as well as markers that she can draw all over that massive window with. When she was home full time it used to be schedules and count downs until special dates and to do lists. Now it’s not quite as busy as it used to be and more often than not the windows can actually be seen out of because they aren’t covered in marker...but every once in a while she’ll feel a sudden urge to draw on them again and fill them with chemistry or math or biology...or even music.

Alby’s room is stand alone and surprisingly the farthest away from Arthur and Waverly’s because he was born last. He is on the same side of the hall as Lizzie, but he does not have the room connected to hers. He’s actually one more down. ((Oh, this is actually relevant so let me talk about it for a moment...The room that is connected to Lizzie’s is currently used as a lab or sorts for her. She has all kinds of old technology in it that she tinkers with a lot, it’s pretty empty and none of the others are jealous that she has the extra room or anything. They do call it Lizzie’s “lab” though sometimes, and there is a proper key to it that she has and she regularly locks it when she doesn’t want Alby to go in and touch anything she’s working on.)) His room is still really kid-ish. He has toys and a little chair that hangs from his ceiling that he can sit in when he reads. His room doesn’t have the same bay window that Lizzie’s does. He doesn’t spend a lot of time in his room. He’s almost always in one of his siblings’ rooms or he’s lugged a handful of toys down to the sitting room/Arthur’s study/wherever someone else is to sit and quietly play near them. He doesn’t really like to be alone, and his room reflects that. There isn’t a lot of personalized things in his room, instead he likes to leave an impression on the other rooms of the house (leaving drawings on the walls in Liam’s room, pictures on Lizzie’s windows when she lets him use her markers, and leaving stuffed animals and small toys on the shelf where Alex’s stuffed crocodile spends his lonely days now that he’s a teenager and he doesn’t play with him anymore). No one seems to mind, in fact, William regularly tells him when he’s away at school that he wants a whole new set of pictures hanging in his room for him when he gets home to help keep the baby busy. Alby has his own shelf full of books that has slowly started to overflow as his siblings slowly hand the boy more and more books to read. His favorite toy when he was younger, and to this day, is trains. He looooooves trains. So if his room has any theme in the chaos it’s definitely trains. He has those stickers on his walls of little cartoon trains and he almost always has some giant town built with the little wooden train sets across the back half of his room on the floor. His parents gave up trying to make him clean those up every night a long time ago. Some battles just aren’t worth fighting, especially when one little town of his creation could keep him occupied for days.

I don’t know if you meant Elaina too but you’re going to get her because I’m on a roll at this point, lol. Elaina’s room is...well kind of boring. And she hasn’t had too much freedom to change anything either which kind of stinks. She has Brielle’s old room and it is exactly how you would expect a princess’s room to look. Light baby pink walls. Her furniture is white. It’s adorable. She HATES it. I mean, I shouldn’t say it like that, it’s her room and she likes it because it’s her space. But she doesn’t like how it looks. She doesn’t really like how it looks like a nursery (because it kind of does) but her parents aren’t really feeling the whole re-painting thing and her furniture belonged to her grandmother and so it’s staying in the family and she can’t get rid of that either. She really loves all three of the English kids’ rooms. They all are a little darker and the paint and the colors are cooler and not as bright and blinding as her pink and white. She is just a touch jealous that despite Arthur and Waverly’s dictaror-ish tendencies, they let their kids decorate their rooms how they want. She’s an artist, as you all know and she loves to sketch and paint and draw. At one point when she was about 11 or 12, I forget exactly but it’s written so perhaps I could share it one day, she used a sketching pencil to draw this really pretty floral design down the side of her nightstand and her parents saw it and lost their shit (old family antiques are not for drawing on, Elaina. You know better!). She hasn’t dared try to do that again, but she’s also always wanted to get all new white furniture and paint over it and cover it in her own drawings. One day she promises herself that she will. In the meantime, she has one single poorly shaded drawing on her nightstand that she managed to convince her parents to let her keep and not erase.

That was a LOT. However...sprinkled in there is a few really relevant pieces of information. The story arch I am currently working on directly involves some of this information and you know how my brain is...I can’t think of anything without figuring it out for everyone...so you’ll see some of this brought up in the actual story again too, eventually.

#my writing #alex #Liam #alby #lizzie #elaina #aaaaaand now I'm going to bed #Feel free to send in more questions any time #I apologize if it takes me literal weeks to get to it #bedrooms

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regolithheart · 5 years ago

Text

Love In The Time of Coronavirus: Chapter Five

Summary: One pandemic, one lake house, and two people who loathe one another. Will they be able to survive the outbreak...and each other?

MASTER LIST

Read on AO3.

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CHAPTER FIVE:

Cassian shuffled through his dresser to find clothes to change into. It would be so easy to throw on a pair of clean sweats, but he didn’t want to resort to that. It was only day two of their self-isolation and if he wasn’t careful, it would be a slippery slope. Besides, he could just imagine the look of distain on Nesta’s face to see him walking around in pajamas in the middle of the day.

His phone buzzed on the bed behind him and picking it up, he saw Rhys was on the other line. Cassian grinned as he accepted the FaceTime call.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Good morning!” He heard Mor’s voice calling back although out of view from the camera and distant but cheerful.

Rhys shook his head. “It’s 4:30pm here.”

Leaning back against his headboard, Cassian shrugged. “Sorry, I’m not on Parisian-time. Seeing as I’m in Sonoma right now with a woman who hates my guts. Have I thanked you recently for that?”

Rhys gave him a wry smile. “You can take your grievances up with France and the U.S. government. Do you want Macron’s number?”

Cassian snorted. “Yeah, text it to me.” He wouldn’t have been surprised if Rhys really did have the French President’s personal number.

There was a moment of silence before Cassian raised an eyebrow.

“So….to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

The corner of Rhys’ mouth quirked up, but there was no amusement on his face. He opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Cassian held up a hand to stop him.

“No. If you’re going to give me bad news, I want it from one of the girls or Az. At least then I can take comfort from their beautiful faces. “

Rhys rolled his eyes, but again, he was interrupted.

Cassian watched the phone shuffle between hands and caught a glimpse of the ceiling of Rhys and Feyre’s pied-à-terre and the blue Parisian sky beyond. Soon, he was looking at Feyre.

“Hey.” Her smile was too sweet and she had drawn out her vowels for too long.

Cassian’s reply was cautious. “Feyre. What’s up?”

Her eyes flickered to someone off screen before smiling even wider at Cassian. “So listen. I just got off the phone with Elain and she and Graysen are actually staying in L.A. for the time being.”

Cassian dragged his free hand down the length of his face, groaning.

If there had been any saving grace in his current predicament, it was that Elain and her boyfriend were on there way up. At least then Nesta would have been appeased and he’d have more people to talk to. It was hard to strike up a conversation with someone who only answered in single word sentences or told him to eat shit half of the time.

He had even been prepared to make friends with Graysen—who was maybe the most boring person Cassian had ever met.

Graysen. Was that his name? Why did he think it was Gregory?

Cassian shook his head. “I gotta tell you, Feyre. You guys are really screwing me over, here.”

“I’m sorry!” Her voice was pleading. “If there was any other way—“

“I know, I know. It’s fine.” He knew they weren’t doing it on purpose, but it still didn’t stop the bubble of irritation that was building in the pit of his stomach. “Just tell Rhys that he better be prepared to sell this house at half it’s market value because there’s a good chance your sister is going to murder me in my sleep. I’m leaving all of my records to Az.”

“Hey!” He heard Mor object in the background.

“You can also tell your fiancé that he has surrendered his entire booze collection and I remember seeing a bottle of McCallan 1926 the last time I checked.” Cassian was starting to feel better just thinking about the prospect.

Rhys shoved his face into view. “Cassian, don’t you dare.”

“What? I can’t hear you over my emotional distress. Gotta go drown my sorrows in a fancy bottle of whiskey.”

“Cassian,” Rhys threatened again.

But Feyre had elbowed him out of the frame and looked at Cassian one more time. “There’s one more thing.”

Cassian raised his eyebrow.

“Elain is giving Nesta the news any minute now and you might want to avoid her for a little while.”

“This is why I’m not going to feel bad for drinking the McCallan.”

“I’m sorry, Cass.” Feyre’s smile was weak.

“Yeah. I gotta go find a hiding spot now. If I don’t make it out alive, it was nice knowing ya.”

He saw various arms waving at him and a received a chorus of goodbyes before he hung up.

Shit, shit, shit.

Abandoning the idea of a shower, Cassian tip-toed out of his room and threw a glance down the hallway. Nesta’s bedroom door was closed and he didn’t hear her angry voice coming from the other side. Quickly, he snuck downstairs and headed towards the gym.

He figured he’d be safe in there.

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

After ninety minutes in the gym and sauna, Cassian decided it was safe to come out. He had heard Nesta’s angry footfalls on the stairs fifteen minutes earlier, but it had been quiet after that.

As he passed the door to the office, he heard the scrape of a chair against the wooden floors, a thud, and Nesta cursing.

“Damnit!”

Cassian was all too happy to ignore the commotion, but before he got to the stairs, he heard the sound of something falling to the ground with a thud and Nesta’s long, defeated sigh.

Running a hand through his hair, he sent a silent apology to his future self and turned around to knock on the office door.

“What?” Nesta’s answer was curt.

He opened the door slowly, allowing himself a peak into the room in case Nesta felt like throwing something at him. He still remembered the day Pictionary was banned.

“Do you need some help?”

Nesta was on her knees. Her work bag was laying on its side, it’s contents scattered across the floor.

Cassian picked up a highlighter that had rolled to his feet. He began picking up random pens and markers on his way closer to her. She took them silently from him and stuffed them into her work bag, not sparing a glance his way.

“I can’t find the wifi password.”

He was amused for a moment until he realized he didn’t know what the password was either. They had set up the lake house’s internet years ago and everyone had saved it on their devices and promptly forgot it. Come to think of it, he really should update the password and run a security check on the house’s connections. He made a mental note to himself.

“Did you check the back of the router?” He had warned Rhys not to leave the password taped there, but wouldn’t have been surprised if his friend ignored his advice.

“Of course I did.”

“And?”

“And I wouldn’t be talking to you if it had worked, would I?” Nesta crossed her arms over her chest.

Cassian ignored her scowl and marched over to the desk to take a look himself. Sure enough, there was a sticker with the default password stuck behind the router. They couldn’t have been that lazy, could they?

“May I?” Cassian asked, gesturing to Nesta’s laptop opened on the desk.

“Sure. Go ahead and waste my time.”

Cassian ignored that too and punched in the password. A error ping sounded followed closely by a snort from Nesta behind him.

Drumming his fingers against the wooden desk, he searched his memory, trying to recall if they had ever written the password down. He began pulling out the desk drawers and shuffling through its contents. Not that there was much to look through. He would have been surprised if Rhys did any actual work in that room.

In the drawers Cassian found a stack of business cards, a letter opener, an empty leather bound notebook with gold gilded pages, a cigar trimmer and two cigars still in their plastic sleeves, but no sign of a wifi password.

He could image Nesta rolling her eyes at him, but when he looked up, he found that she wasn’t paying him any attention at all. Instead, she was on the other side of the room, looking at the framed pictures on the bookshelves and running a delicate finger across one of the photos, lost in her thoughts.

And that’s when Cassian finally remembered.

He reached over to the black and white photo of a woman and teenage girl, both with thick dark hair and matching brilliant smiles. The silver frame was heavy and well-polished. Turning it over, Cassian unlatched the back and revealed a yellow sticky note with Rhys’ tiny, yet neat handwriting.

“All set,” Cassian said, setting the photo back in it’s place on the desk.

“Who’s that?” Nesta asked as she watched him.

He hesitated. “Rhys’ mother and sister.”

Nesta was silent. Feyre must have told her what happened six years ago and he was glad he didn’t have to. It still made his heart ache just thinking about it.

Cassian cleared his throat and stood up to leave. Before closing the door behind him, he heard Nesta say, “Thank you.”

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

Nesta splashed water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked pale and the smudges under her eyes showed just how tired she really was. Sighing, she redid her braid and pinned it back in its usual crown, smoothing the flyaways down with her damp fingertips.

There. It wasn’t much, but it was an improvement.

She had escaped to her room for a moment after getting off a two-and-a-half hour conference call where the majority of it was taken up by Devlon and their client’s anecdotes about their second day of self-isolation and lamenting the fact that they were going to be missing a lot of golf. She had gritted her teeth through the whole thing, but remained silent.

Her only saving grace was the little satisfaction of knowing she was billing the client for this meeting and the more he droned on about the eighth hole at Pebble Beach, the more he was being charged.

She took a deep breath and began making her way back downstairs, to the long list of unread emails she had ignored all day.

Cassian’s bedroom door was ajar again.

God, did he ever close it?

Slowing down, she chanced a peak inside. His laptop sat open on the otherwise orderly bed, but he was nowhere to be seen.

When Nesta got back to the office, she crossed her arms and looked suspiciously around the room.

Next to her laptop, sitting on a coaster was a gin and tonic.

She glanced down at her watch. It was 5 o’lock on the dot and she wondered if Cassian had been waiting to hear her footsteps coming down the stairs. She didn’t see him in the living room or hear him in the kitchen and that annoyed her.

Pushing the drink away, she was even more annoyed when she saw that it was exactly how she liked—with a twist of lemon and an extra slice for good measure. She didn’t want to think about what it meant that Cassian knew her favorite drink, or how he knew it.

Instead, she focused on her mountain of emails. Half of them were office-wide emails, reminding everyone to be safe and to reach out to their clients to let them of their new Work From Home procedures and all of the additional spreadsheets and reports that they needed to keep up to date now that people were no longer in the office. It was exhausting to shift through. But then an email from Devlon made her pound her fist on the desk.

The ice from the gin and tonic tinkled.

She dialed Devlon’s number, nostrils flaring at every ring. He picked up on the fourth one.

“Are you kidding me?!”

Devlon’s voice was even-toned. “I had no choice.”

“But, Eris? I said anyone but him!”

“You do remember that I’m your boss, right?”

Nesta didn’t reply, just seethed.

“Listen, I know it’s not ideal. I wouldn’t have put him on the Carver project at all but…” he sighed.

“Tamlin put a hold on Rose Hall and I’m in a staffing bind.”

“Can’t you shift some other people around?”

Devlon was not amused. “I need to find projects for eight people.”

“I’ll take Amren.”

“Good. Then you have to take Eris, too. He’s the only one on the viz team that’s available and can do the work.”

Nesta huffed. “Fine. But he needs to be reminded that I’m the Project Architect and he answers to me.”

“Don’t we all?”

Nesta hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair, still annoyed. She was glad Amren was now on her team, but she wasn’t looking forward to babysitting Eris.

Looking up, she saw the photo of Rhys’ mother and sister smiling at her. She averted her eyes.

She hated that room.

For an office, it was surprisingly lacking. She had only been able to find one single pen in the whole entire room and it was a Mont Blanc fountain pen. Judging by the weight, no doubt it was made of platinum.

The rest of the room was more of a treasure chest of knick-knacks, travel paraphernalia, and photos. So many framed photos.

She had perused them earlier that day when Cassian was looking for the wi-fi password and her eyes had snagged on a photo sitting in a simple wood frame. It was all of them: Rhys, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Feyre.

Nesta had not been able to tell where the photo had been taken. Judging from what they were wearing, they could have been anywhere at any time. To anyone else it would have just been a typical photo of a group of friends, but it had struck Nesta to see how happy they all were, especially Feyre. Rhys’ arm was around her waist, but Feyre’s head was leaning on Mor’s shoulder. And her sister’s arm was stretched behind the blonde, her hand clasping Cassian’s.

Nesta couldn’t recall if she, Elain, and Feyre had ever a photo similar to that one. Maybe they did before, but certainly not after their mother…

She snapped her laptop shut, revealing the gin and tonic she had nudged aside earlier. The ice had began to melt, but she finished it in three gulps.

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

Nesta found Cassian in the kitchen. Not that she had been looking for him.

She was returning her glass and he just happened to be there, pulling items from the fridge. The sound of ice clinking against the tumbler made him look up.

He raised his eyebrow, but his smile was soft.

“Looks like you could use another.”

Given the day that Nesta had, she agreed.

Cassian held out his hand and Nesta placed the glass into his awaiting palm.

She was surprised when he put the dirty glass into the sink and watched as he deftly prepared her a new drink in a clean one. She was even impressed when he managed to carve the perfect sliver of lemon peel with the large chef’s knife in his hand and gave it a delicate twist before nestling it into the ice and handing her the drink.

Nesta took a sip. It was perfect.

“Thank you.”

Cassian made a noise in the back of his throat. “So are you going to be eating dinner tonight?” His tone was casual and he didn’t look up at her as he organized the food on the counter.

She hesitated, but he was being nice so she could at least try to be civil. “What are you making?”

He finally looked up at her, his grin wide, canines gleaming as he held up a parcel wrapped in butcher’s paper. “Steaks!”

“Isn’t that a little extravagant?”

“You’ve never heard of steak night Wednesday?” He grinned at his own joke. “We’re celebrating.”

“What are we celebrating?”

There was that grin again and Nesta blamed the heat rising in her chest on the two gin and tonics she’d had.

“We’re celebrating the fact that I just broke into Rhys’ prized whiskey collection.” He nodded to a bottle that other than the color of the liquid—a deep, dark caramel—and the label that said Years 60 Old, didn’t look like anything special to Nesta.

Cassian could tell she was unimpressed. “That is a $75,000 bottle of Scotch.”

Nesta laughed. “You’re shitting me!”

“I would never joke about McCallan.”

Nesta picked up the bottle to examine it further. It was heavier than she had expected it to be. The label was thick and had a beautiful texture that was imprinted with a gold border, but she still couldn’t believe that she was holding a bottle of alcohol that was worth a year’s salary.

“So what do you say, Nesta Archeron? Have dinner with me tonight.”

She looked at him. At the checkered button down with the sleeves rolled up, and his hair which was half pulled back in a knot. His smile was easy and the light from the setting sun streaming into the kitchen made his eyes glow amber.

He cleaned up nice. It wasn’t the first time Nesta had noticed, but it always took her by surprise.

“Okay,” she said and took a sip of her drink—an excuse to avert her eyes.

“Great! You can start on the potatoes.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“The potatoes.” Cassian repeated, pointing to a bag of small yellow potatoes.

Nesta started backing away from the island. “No. No one said I had to cook.”

“Boiling potatoes isn’t exactly rocket science.” Cassian looked amused. “Just grab those potatoes, wash them, fill that pot with water, and wait.”

Nesta eyed the potatoes. “How many?”

Cassian shrugged. “Ten? Eleven?”

Nesta grabbed the bag and pulled out twelve golf-sized potatoes.

Eleven. What kind of maniac was he?

When the pot was on the stove, Cassian tossed in two healthy pinches of salt into the water.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“That’s it? How long until they’re done?”

Cassian looked at her incredulous. “Have you really never boiled potatoes before?”

Nesta didn’t answer. It wasn’t as though she had never boiled potatoes before, but the few times she deigned to cook, she always followed a step-by-step recipe to the tee.

“When the water starts boiling, poke them with a fork. If they’re soft, they’re done and if not give them a couple more minutes.”

She nodded.

“In the meantime, turn the oven on to 400 and relax.”

Nesta let her shoulders drop. She hadn’t realized how tense she was.

When the potatoes were done, Cassian strained them and dumped them all onto a sheet tray.

“Now here’s the fun part,” he said, grabbing a wooden spoon. “Take this spoon and press it into the potatoes like this. Really smash it.”

He demonstrated and Nesta watched as the potato flattened under the pressure of the spoon, it’s edges splitting into craggy fissures.

“Your turn.”

Nesta took the wooden spoon from Cassian and tried to mimic his technique.

“Come on, Archeron. You can do better than that. Really smash it. Pretend it’s my face you’re crushing.”

Nesta hid her smirk, and pressed hard. It was oddly satisfying.

When she was done, Cassian tossed in some herbs, a couple of crushed garlic cloves, a few glugs of olive oil and told Nesta to mix it up with her hands. She did as she was instructed, but cringed the whole entire time. As soon as the contents of the tray were mixed, she rushed to the sink to wash her hands.

That was one of the reasons why she didn’t cook. But aside from getting gross oil fingers, thirty minutes later they were sitting at the dining table with the most amazing smelling dinner in front of them, and Nesta decided it hadn’t been too bad.

Cassian held up the bottle of McCallen 1926. “Can I tempt you?”

She wasn’t a whiskey drinker in the least, but she was curious to see. When she nodded, he poured her two fingers’ worth.

Nesta twirled the liquid in her glass, trying to determine if she could spot how special it was just by looking at it. It looked pretty ordinary to her. She glanced at Cassian before taking a sip.

It was much more sweet than she had expected it to be. There were hints of dried fruit—figs, maybe. And as the liquid rolled over her tongue she picked up a bit of vanilla and something warm and nutty. Cinnamon? It was definitely familiar. When she finally swallowed, the aroma hit her. Christmas. This tasted like Christmas. Warm and comforting and…special.

She cleared her throat. “It’s okay.”

Cassian simply shook his head, torn between amusement and disbelief. He took his own sip and Nesta watched his face closely. It was subtle—almost imperceivable—but she saw his discovery mirror her own.

When he opened his eyes, his voice was awed. “It’s incredible.” He grinned. “I am never drinking anything else, ever again.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and he winked.

“Well, lets eat!”

Everything tasted as amazing as it looked and Nesta felt a flash of pride at how wonderful the potatoes were. They had baked them in the oven and the edges were crispy and fragrant. If that was all Nesta was allowed to eat for the rest of her life, she’d be happy.

“These potatoes are incredible.”

Cassian grinned. “They’re the easiest thing.”

“I never learned how to cook.” The words slipped out of Nesta’s mouth before she could stop them.

Cassian looked up, surprised. “Really? Then who taught Feyre? I thought…” He stopped himself from finishing that sentence.

Nesta looked away. She hated how he became quiet. Probably because he knew the truth about what happened all those years ago. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime ago. Sometimes, like at that very moment, it felt all too fresh.

She cleared her throat and straightened. When she turned back to him, her face was neutral, calm.

“How did you learn to cook?”

Taking her cue, Cassian’s smile came easily. “I used to be a line cook,” he answered, popping a piece of steak into his mouth.

For the rest of the dinner, Cassian told Nesta of all the jobs he had had growing up. First as a dishwasher, then a line cook. There was the summer in high school when he was a life guard at the public pool but had to quit because all the moms were hitting on him.

Nesta rolled her eyes at that story, but then laughed when he told her about his stint as a dog walker. She almost choked when he told her about the time he baby-sat a nine-year-old.

“You were a manny?!”

“Yeah.” His grin turned into a scowl. “But then I was fired because the kid was failing math! I was only supposed to pick him up from school and made sure he didn’t break his neck until his parents got home. I didn’t sign up to teach long division.”

Nesta had to brush a tear of laughter from her eyes as Cassian cleared away the dirty dishes.

She smoothed her hair back and saw Cassian leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

She sobered quickly. “I…um…no. I have to get back to work.”

He raised his eyebrow. “It’s 8pm.”

She stood up. “I have a lot of emails to get to.”

They held each other’s stare long enough for Nesta to feel uncomfortable, but then Cassian shrugged his shoulder and moved towards the sink.

“Another time then.”

Nesta watched him for three more seconds, then turned and left.

#acotar #nessian #nessian fanfic #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian archeron #feyre archeron #elain archeron #rhysand #azriel #morrigan

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years ago

Text

What do you like to drink in the morning? Coffee, of course. What color is your favorite hoodie? Black. Do you have a string of lights in your room? I do. They’re strung around my headboard. Do you know what you are going to do today? Later on this afternoon I have a FaceTime appointment, meh. That means I have to get up early. Does your heart hurt? Not physically.

Who is not in your life that you wish was? My grandparents and my dog, Brandie, who have passed away. Who hurt you last? Myself. Can you see the moon out your window right now? It’s just completely black from the view of my window.

What makes you feel inspired? Nothing. :/ Are you mad at a friend right now? I don’t have any friends to even be mad at. Do you have a friend who hurt you and doesn’t care? Is your room clean? It’s a little messy at the moment. Can you see the sunrise from your window? No. If you were a writer, would you have a pen name or use your real name? Hmm. Possibly a pen name. That would be neat. Did you go to Goodwill yesterday? No. What is your friend’s cat’s name? Do you celebrate your pet’s birthdays? We get her a special doggy birthday treat. As a kid, did you celebrate your dolls’ birthdays? (if you’re a girl) I don’t recall doing that. Are you wearing a hoodie right now? No, it’s not cold for that. Did you ignore the last facebook post that bothered you, or did you comment? I just keep scrolling. Do you need to go to the pharmacy today? No. Are you realizing that one of your friends isn’t a real friend? What was the name of one of your stuffed animals as a kid? I honestly don’t recall. Do you have a car? If so, did you give it a name? Nope. If you were a famous singer, what would you want your hit song to be about? It would be something sad and relatable.

Did you skip church last week? No, I watch it televised for now. <<< Same. Well, on my laptop or phone. Do you have any big regrets? Many. If you had to re-design an alien, instead of making them green with slanty-eyes and an egg-shaped head, what would you make it look like? Something cute, ha. Do you have anyone who loves you, besides God? Do you have anyone who cares about you, besides God? Do you have anyone who you can go to for support? My family. Do you normally write in cursive or print? Print. Does your heart ache for something? Yes. Do you fit the millennial stereotype? What’s the millennial stereotype?

Would you want your first child to be a boy or a girl? I don’t want to have kids. If you were to write an article for a magazine, what would it be about? I have no idea, I don’t want that task. Do you have a blog? You’re lookin at it. If you were to start a blog, what would your first post be about? This is my survey blog. Do you think you are good at writing poetry? Nope. Have you ever tried a science experiment that didn’t work? The only ones I attempted were ones we had to do in class for lab projects. I didn’t go experimenting on my own. Have you ever had a teacher who looked like an alien? No. Do you take gummy vitamins? I used to. I’ve been majorly slacking on taking my vitamins. Are your feet wide? No. If you could do research right now for an essay, what topic would you choose to right about? I’m done with school, I don’t wanna do another essay ever again. What are your strongest attributes? I don’t feel I have any. Have you ever started writing a suicide letter? No. Do you know anyone who had to evacuate for the latest hurricane? No. Do you write letters to friends? I did that in middle school and some of high school with my cousin. Do you like to write letters? I haven’t done that since then. ^^^ As a kid, did you find diagramming sentences fun? I’ve always enjoyed English, but I wouldn’t say I found that particular activity to be “fun.” What is your dream? I don’t know. Where would you travel if you could? There’s a lot of places I’d like to travel to one day. Do you feel all alone in the world? Sometimes. Do you own a piece of jewelry with an owl on it? Nope. If you have a class ring, what color is the stone? Ruby. My parents got my birthstone. Does looking at the starry sky make you feel peaceful? It can. Do you have a pen pal? If not, would you ever want to have one? Nah. Do you drink hot chocolate? Yeah. Are you hurt by something a friend did to you recently? Are you under 30? No. Have you made a “30 Things to Do Before I’m 30” list? No. Glad I didn’t, I don’t need to feel like even more of a failure. Do you paint rocks and hide them in your town? I personally don’t, but that is actually a big thing people in my town do. There’s a Facebook group for it. It’s fun. I’ve found several of the rocks and around town. What was the name of your first crush? Phillip. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher? Nope. Do you like parodies? Some. Are you a Taylor Swift fan? No. Have you ever kissed a picture? lol when I was like 12/13 I did that with some of my posters of whoever I was crushing on at the time. Do you use window clings (stickers for your window)? No. Do you decorate for fall? A little bit. What do you want to be for Halloween this year? I don’t dress up for Halloween anymore. Has suicide crossed your mind a lot lately? Not lately. Do you have supernatural abilities? No. I’m just your basic average girl. Do you get enough hugs? I haven’t hugged anyone in months. What labels do people try to put on you? Who knows. Who do YOU (or rather, who does God) say you are? I’ve been wanting to figure that out. Are you happy? No. Have you asked yourself recently, Why am I here? Thoughts like that cross my mind. What family member did you get your hair color from? My mom. Have you ever found a secret compartment? No. If you designed a house, would you give it a secret room? *shrug* Maybe. Do you read horror stories? Yeah. Do you ever comfort eat? No, that’s not comfort for me. Does stretching feel good? Yeah. Do you have your wedding planned in your head already? I haven’t thought about it. I don’t plan on ever getting married. Would you ever adopt a child? I don’t want children. Are you ok today? Blahhh. Was the last book you read good? Yeah.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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starrybbarnes · 6 years ago

Text

sticking together [b.b]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: just a normal day where Bucky happens to see a familiar face stuck on your laptop

Word Count: 1,710

Author’s note: this was inspired by this interesting sticker I saw, and it made me laugh. but please, if you have seen that person, lemme kno. I also wrote this at 1am, and scheduled it for later today so let’s hope it's published.

“Y/N! Pizza is here!”

“In a minute!” you yelled, closing your laptop and swiftly getting out of the couch. It was a slow Tuesday afternoon, and you and Bucky decided to just stay in.

“Hurry up or else I’m gonna eat it” Bucky lamely threatened, placing the plates onto the kitchen table.

You feigned horror, hand draped across your forehead: “You wouldn’t dare Bucky!”

Laughs erupted the kitchen as Bucky set the box of pizza and wings in the middle and handing you a cold beer. It was a warm summer afternoon, a breeze coming through the kitchen window.

You both dug into the pizza, with you almost burning your tongue. A chuckle escapes from Bucky’s mouth as you smile back at him.

“So,” Bucky started, speaking with his mouth filled with pizza, “I saw that you were looking super concentrated on your laptop. Work got you stumped?”

You scrunch a paper towel and chuck it at Bucky, “What’d I tell you about manners, Buck! I don’t wanna sound like an old geezer that’s mad at the youth.”

“Hey, that was one time!” Bucky interjected, “Those teenagers were being a nuisance outside, so obviously I had to straighten ‘em up somehow.”

“That doesn’t mean you walk up to them in your tactical gear and a gun.”

“But have you seen any teenagers making a ruckus outside our apartment?”

“Nope.”

“Exactly. You’re welcome.”

“You’re really something else, babe,” you sighed, taking a sip from your beer, “anyways, I wasn’t concentrating on work. I was looking for something on an online store.”

“Oh? Did you find it?” Bucky asked. He knew you loved to online shop, but was very particular about certain things. You’d check the reviews, the descriptions, and anything else to make sure the item comes as described. Also because sometimes you’d pay for 5.99 shipping and that made your wallet wince.

“Well I’m not sure,” you replied, “I’m just window shopping at the moment, but I need some new art to put up somewhere around the apartment.”

Bucky hummed in agreement and got up, “well, whatever or wherever this art is, I know you have a very good eye for it. Anything you choose is beautiful, and I appreciate you for adding so much color in my life.”

He planted a kiss on your forehead and then hugged you from behind. Your heart fluttered at what he said and you replied, “You’re such a sap, Buck. You’re making me blush.”

Bucky just flashed his signature smile at you and made his way to the living room. Once you finished up eating and cleaning the dishes you joined Bucky on the couch, reaching for your laptop to resume your art scouting.

An hour has passed, and Bucky has passed out on the couch, his quiet snores filling up the silence of the room. You were still searching far and wide on your favorite art website, but still no luck.

You were about to call it a day when you hear Bucky almost choke on his spit while sleeping. He semi-coughs kinda chokes and then goes back to his nap as if nothing happened.

You decided to type Bucky Barnes on the art website and click search.

Almost immediately, you see photos of Bucky photoshopped with flower crowns, a halo, or him in a polaroid-type background. You have stumbled upon fan art for Bucky, and boy have you hit the jackpot.

You clicked on the sticker section, and there it was.

The perfect sticker for your laptop.

It was in the style of a wanted poster, and it read:

Wanted: Have You Seen This Person? No Crime (Other than stealing my heart). Reward Available.

And right in the smack-dab middle was a photo of Bucky that you vaguely remember seeing in a magazine. People really loved your boyfriend, and the sticker brought an absolute smile to your face.

You saw the dimensions of the sticker and decided to go with the medium-sized one, to put it front and center.

You also found some art of the skyline of your favorite show, so you decided to buy a decent-sized canvas print of it.

You added to cart, and once you bought you saw they’d be ready in 5-7 days.

You absolutely couldn’t wait.

。。

Days passed, and the mail finally came in. Luckily for you, Bucky was still at the compound, so you didn’t have to worry about hiding the package this time around.

You opened up the box and saw the canvas print. It looked absolutely beautiful, you mentally thanked yourself that you got a size big enough to put above the couch. The hues of blue, purple, and pink really made it stand out in the living room, and definitely complimented your living room. You knew Bucky would be constantly admiring it.

You rummaged around the box a bit more and then felt the cool sticker paper. You yanked it out the box and saw the sticker in its entirety.

It was more than you asked for and saw it would fit perfectly on this lower-left corner of your laptop. You cleaned the spot it was gonna be on, and once it was on, it looked amazing.

You couldn’t stop giggling to yourself because there was an actual picture of Bucky on your laptop, and he looked just adorable, might you add. You also bought 3 other miscellaneous stickers: one of a koi fish, another of some poppies, and the last one that simply read “lol ur not bucky barnes.”

You put the 3 stickers on your metal water bottle. After being content with the placement, you collected the box and its trash and started to make your way to the front door.

As you turned the knob, the door wouldn’t budge open. And when you decided to let go, a very eager Bucky almost swung open the door. Almost.

Bucky looked at you wide-eyed and started apologizing profusely, “Babe! I didn’t see you there! Were you gonna take out the trash? Don’t worry I’ll do it.”

“Bucky, I’m okay! Just come inside already and give me a kiss.”

He happily obliged and pulled you into a hug. “So I’m assuming your art came in?”

“It did!” you beamed, “come looked at it!”

You practically dragged Bucky to the living room and had him stop in front of the couch.

You saw Bucky’s eye light up in admiration. “Wow...” Bucky whispered, “this is an amazing art piece, sweetheart.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Bucky reassured you, “this might be my favorite piece to date. You buy anything else?”

“Well, I did buy some stickers.” you hesitantly said. Your ears went pink and Bucky saw immediately.

“Can I see them?” Bucky asked.

“...yes?” you coughed.

“Are they nude stickers or something? You’re acting funny.” Bucky added.

“Psh, no!” you interjected, “why would I put that on my water bottle??”

“Then show me!”

You took your sweet time to get your bottle from the kitchen while doing a quick scan of the apartment, quietly thanking yourself that your laptop is nowhere to be found.

You finally grabbed the bottle, and since bucky was growing impatient, he just walked up to you and stuck out his hand.

“I really don’t see anything wrong with the bottle,” Bucky said, as he was examining the bottle. What he didn’t realize was the “lol” sticker was covered by his hand.

“Scoot your hand to the left,” you said.

He did so and raised an eyebrow. “L o L, you’re not Bucky??” he asked incredulously, “but I am Bucky?? Or am I ?”

“You are Bucky, silly,” you said as you snatched your bottle and set it on the table. “the sticker just means that whatever fool is talking to me, it won’t matter, ‘cause they’re not you.”

“Interesting,” Bucky responded, “and you can just buy stickers like that?”

“Pretty much. There were a lot of stickers related to you.”

“Really?” Bucky said with interest in his voice. “That’s pretty neat.”

“If you’re thinking, yes they’ll probably have some embarrassing ones of Steve and Sam,” you added. Bucky did a small cheer and you just rolled your eyes.

You turned on the TV and decided to catch up on the news while Bucky was raiding the fridge.

“Hey Y/N, it seems that there’s nothing good in this thing,” Bucky started.

“Is that so?”

“Yup. I’m gonna order take out, sound good with you?” Bucky asked.

“I’m game, babe!” You replied, not taking your eyes off the TV.

“My phone just died, I’m gonna borrow your laptop real quick,” Bucky hollered as he walked to your shared room to retrieve it.

“Sounds good,” you yawned, feeling your eyes flutter closed. The silence and the low volume of the television were about to engulf you into sleep until you heard your name.

“Y/N..”

You froze. You just remembered about the sticker on your computer.

“... yeah, Bucky..” you responded.

“Uh... can you just come to our room real quick?”

You shuffled your legs as quickly as possible as you see the sight before you: Bucky is holding your (closed) laptop up to his face, wearing an incredulous look.

“Bucky, I can explain!”

“Out of all the pictures, you chose this one??”

“I, uh, what?” you stuttered, processing what he said.

“Was this the only picture they had??”

“Well, yeah, someone made it and I just bought it.” you explained, your face turned pink and you kept hiding your face.

“Oh, babe, I didn’t mean to embarrass you!” Bucky said as he embraced you in a hug. “It just threw me off that there’s a whole ass sticker of my face on your laptop.”

“It’s a good photo!” you argued, “Besides, people need to know that you are a criminal, for stealing my heart!”

“Someone alert the media,” Bucky joked, “because I’m gonna make sure you’re falling for me, hard.”

He started kissing you all over your face and pulled you closer to him.

“Oh Buck,” you sighed, kissing him on the lips and wrapping your hands around his neck, “You already did that ages ago.”

Bucky smiled. “Do you think I can get that exact same sticker with your face on it?”

“I hope so. Let’s investigate together.”

。。

A/N: as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. love you guys!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fluff #bucky barnes #bucky one shot #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #marvel fic #marvel imagines #bucky au #marvel one shots #marvel x reader #bucky barnes fluff #writings #bucky requests #the winter soldier

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aeori-o · 5 years ago

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So long 2019!

I usually try and get these up December 31st not January 1st but, really, it’s 24 hours apart, does it really matter?

End of a year! And end of a decade!

I usually go over my yearly reading first. I wanted to get the “bad” out of the way first this time. This year I continued to stagnate creatively. I haven’t drawn anything since Qelvi back in January of 2018. I have written but mostly in role-plays with Vin and the other stuff I haven’t tracked very well. I don’t know how to track it in a way that’s clear and also easy to remember.

In the past my goals going into the new year have always been along the line of “do a little of [thing] every day” and that is super not working for me. So this year I’m going to try and change it up. For writing all I want to do is a five minute, free-flow, unplanned just-put-pen-to-paper-and-write based off a prompt. That should be do-able as there’s no pressure of it having to be connected to a larger work. There’s no planning and thus no pressure except to take five minutes and do it. I think in the past I’ve tried to do that in addition to x amount of words or pages per day. I’m just gonna scale it back and see if I can get myself to do the bare minimum consistently and see where that goes.

As for drawing. Ideally I’d like to do a little bit every day so I can actually get better at it, but as that’s been my goal for the last several years and I have not done it even a little bit these past two years I’m going to change my goals for drawing up, as well. Instead of trying to do anything consistently I’m just going to make it my goal to do one drawing a month. That’s it. I don’t need to show it to anyone, or post it, or whatever. Just one drawing I can consider “complete” every month. Complete doesn’t need to be polished I just don’t want to do nothing again and this seems do-able. We’ll see how it turns out at the end of the year.

Reading! My goal was to read 100 books this year and then I got sucked into playing Fortnite halfway through the year and basically read nothing in May. I read as much as I did last year, so I’m not torn up about the amount I read, but just once I do want to read 100 books in a year. (Not counting graphic novels, because I read through them too quickly and it doesn’t feel the same as reading a novel). So next year will be attempt number 2 at reading 100 in a year because I don’t think I should give up after not meeting it once. Life happens, sometimes we play more video games than we should, I still read 78-book-books and 63 graphic novels. For a total of 141 books. Which is pretty good, I can’t be upset at that number.

Part of my goal for 100 books this year, too, will be to slim down my at-home to-be-read pile, which is currently taking up seven shelves and must be stopped. I say this but I already have five more books on hold at the library. Whoops.

Here’s everything I read this year that I inputted into goodreads:

My one hour a day reading calendar (this year I started trying to add dots for every book completed on the day of completion, but I think I missed days, gonna do that some more this year, too, I like it):

And my goodreads badge:

2019 was a pretty wild year, there were some unexpected and costly hiccups. One of my cats went missing for a week; the other got struvite crystals and his bladder nearly exploded; My ancient AV receiver kicked it and on top of those things being expensive there was a whole thing where the new one seemed to be messing up my TV, it was a time; I got rear-ended on the freeway which thankfully didn’t wind up costing me anything except for a lot of stress, some minor pain, and over two weeks without a vehicle. None of these turned out to be that bad, in the end, and thankfully spread out enough that I didn’t just expire from stress.

There was a lot of good this year, too. I got to bring my partner skiing for the first time ever, and for my first time in a very long time (I don’t know when the last time I went skiing was, back when I was in highschool maybe?). I expanded my plushie collection by A Lot this year. I have cute eevee plushes, and some really soft pillow plushes now, and beeb got me a little corsola who I would Die for.

I’ve been more involved with pokemon go. I technically found the group I play with at the end of 2018 (right at the end, it was in December during the community weekend and someone from the group saw me doing circles hitting the same pokestops over and over and was like “hey… wanna join our group?”), but 2019 was the first full year with them. It’s been really nice to reliably be able to get stronger/rarer pokemon and just have a general sense of community. It’s neat because it’s not like I’m close friends with any of these people, but they’re all good people and I like seeing them. I know virtually nothing about any of them, but still, it’s nice.

I also got super into stickers this year (I blame you, beeb) and since my laptop only has so much room I’ve taken to adding stickers to my car. I don’t want to go overboard but I love all the ones I’ve added so far and now that my bumper looks better than new I think my car looks pretty slick.

I started keeping a video-game journal at the beginning of this year, which has been really satisfying and I’m going to keep doing it. I always struggle to remember how much time I sink into games and what happens in this games. Being able to flip through and see all of what I played, when I played it, and what was going on is interesting.

Also got a new phone this year. I didn’t get the latest and greatest but usually when I’ve needed a new phone due to a previous one being busted I have found myself inheriting whatever phone someone else doesn’t want (for the most part). This is the first phone I’ve gone out of my way to get because mine was just not performing well and I have no regrets.

I have a huge issue with upgrading to a new device when my old ones are perfectly serviceable. For instance: the computer I am writing this on is twelve years old. It’s slow but it works for what I need. This computer isn’t even from the past decade, which is pretty wild to me. In thinking about the past decade this computer has been through it all with me.

I guess I’m moving onto the decade now. I was just thinking that this computer still has msn/wlm on it. There’s a dedicated button on my keyboard for it. I hit it and I can see the last icon I ever used on there (I used to change icons constantly, which is a thing I do not do anywhere anymore), as well as the theme I had in place. Absolutely wild. In the last decade(ish) we all abandoned msn/wlm, got skype, abandoned skype when it became a bloated, ad-filled disaster, and got onto telegram, discord, and the dms of various social media websites. (Which I suck at using as if I’m a person three times my age.) In 2010 we were on the iPhone 4 and basically every android sucked, now we’re on the iPhone 11 and androids are a viable option for a phone. Console generations are slower and mess with my perception of time. In the last decade we’ve only gone up one console generation which feels weirdly slow but then when I contemplate any company releasing a new console I inevitably feel it hasn’t been nearly long enough.

On a more personal note, I definitely cannot remember even most of the things that have happened in the last decade. I know I’ve read about five hundred books (closer to six hundred including graphic novels) because I’ve been tracking that since 2011. I’ve been tracking what I read for about a decade.

Left is books by year, middle is graphic novels by year, and right is the total of both.

I became decent at excel in the past few years. I went from not understanding this program at all to trying to find excuses to use it. I used to track all my reading in a notepad document, it looked like this:

As you can see: I only switched over in 2017. And it used to be a total pain because I would have to count all of the dates by hand. Hope I didn’t miscount. Then I’d be looking at my goodreads count and trying to figure out if that made sense against my personal count because I also didn’t count graphic novels as book-books back then and would sometimes mark them on goodreads. So I’d have to figure out how many I had inputted to goodreads to then make sure the two counts reconciled. It was a total nightmare. Now the computer counts for me.

And the reason I even became interested in excel is because of DnD which I have also gotten into in the last decade. It’s one of those things I had always been interested in but had no way to play or had false starts. A group came together a few years ago and we did some of the most fun, fulfilling, and emotional group-role-playing I have ever experienced. Our group has kind of disbanded now, and I’m trying to work on a campaign myself, but our first campaign is definitely one of the things I really cherish from the past few years. It’s definitely a highlight of the decade.

Speaking of meaningful role-plays. I got with my partner in the last decade, too. I’d feel weird getting all gushy about them here, but we’ve been doing written role-plays since before we figured out that we were a thing. They’re a constant source of inspiration to me and the things we create together are some of my favourite things in the world. At times there have been lulls between the things we make that really grab both of us, but this past year we started an AU of some of our characters and I think it’s safe to say we’re both in love with our little creation. Roach Squad is definitely the highlight of 2019 and I suspect it will continue to be the highlight of 2020. I don’t think we’ll be as aggressively into them by the time 2030 rolls around, but our original boys have persisted for the better part of the last decade (the Boys have been a thing since 2013 and we are still enjoying them, so I don’t doubt Roach Squad will persist, as well, but I imagine the next decade will give us a third group that we’re consumed with).

I’ve lost some friends in the past decade, and made some new, but find I don’t have the time to stay caught up with as many people as I used to. That used to be a thing I was good at. Toward the beginning of this decade, I’d regularly keep-up with at least a dozen people (by which I mean: talking to them daily). Now that number is at… maybe three or four people who I interact with daily (not counting group chats of which there is one). But if you’re reading this and we haven’t spoken in a while (“a while” could be years, honestly) and nothing really happened we just sort of stopped talking or hanging out: I still care about you. I hope your 2019 was more good than bad and that you have nice things to look back on in the last decade. Also hit me up, if you want to.

Overall I think the last decade has been pretty good. I’m thankful for all the good times with friends I’ve been able to have, all the sushi eaten and talks on long car rides. I’m thankful for the help I’ve gotten with housing and car situations that would have been outrageously stressful if I’d been dealing with them on my own. I’m thankful for all the creative people I’ve been able to meet and interact with, all the character ideas and moments we’ve shared through written role-plays, tabletop role-plays, and art.

I hope the next decade can be as socially and creatively fulfilling as the last!

And at the end here, because I never do this and then I always look back and go “what even were my goals” I’m going to make a handy list of goals-discussed:

Draw one thing a month

Write for five minutes every day from an unplanned prompt

Read 100 books and continue with my one hour a day reading

Get my DnD campaign off the ground and keep it going (I don’t think I explicitly mentioned this above, but it’s a goal this year)

#new year get better do better

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visionsofus · 6 years ago

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MIT, Time Travel and oh mY GOD IT’S PETER PARKER!

This is the beginning of the sequel, start with the first story here or read on AO3 here (1) and here (2)

|CHAPTER 1|

If you would like to be tagged in updates please let me know!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things are definitely looking up for Peter Parker. Months have passed since the Snap and his life is finally beginning to get back on track. He has an amazing job at Stark Industries, he's almost finished his first semester at MIT with Ned, he gets to swing around New York on the weekends and things are looking like they might actually be going somewhere with MJ.

It’s almost like Peter is starting to get part of his normal life back. It's a naive concept. Peter knows what he has committed his life to, what expectations everyone has for the hero they know as Spider-Man.

Things quickly begin to heat up and Peter feels the growing pressure of his secret identity beginning to weigh on his decisions, not to mention the mysterious ‘Project Chronos’ which is weighing on him physically and has catastrophic effects on his mental state.

Peter's survived the impossible - death - but could more deadly things be yet to come?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tap, tap… tap

2…1

Peter tried not to grow frustrated as his eyes darted from his worn, silver wristwatch to the front of the lecture hall where the professor was finally beginning to wrap his presentation up. Said professor seemed to have sensed the weariness of his students and was rushing through his final slides.

Tap, tap, tap, tap…. Tap, tap, tap

Peter’s pen tapped distractedly against the black keys of his laptop, which he had been taking notes on until the lecture had taken an unfortunate turn, becoming even more boring than this subject normally was. Unfortunately, that turn had taken place only twenty minutes into the lecture so for the last 30 Peter had been itching to leave the hall.

4…. 3

Peter counted the numbers off in his head as he continued tapping, each tap taking him one second closer to when he could jump up from the cramped seat, slide out from behind the small desk and beeline for the door.

2…4 5…1 4….1

"Excuse me." Someone said quietly from two seats to Peter's right. Peter turned to see a lanky blond boy looking in amusement at Peter’s hand which was still tapping absentmindedly against the keys. "As boring as this subject is, could you please not tap like that?"

"Oh sorry," Peter said his hand stilling before he could begin the sequence of taps again. The boy turned his attention back to the front of the lecture and Peter followed his gaze.

2,1 4,3 2,4 5,1 4,1

When tapped out in Binary Tap Code it spelled b.o.r.e.d, MJ had taught it to him over the Summer and like Morse code and other tap codes Peter had taken a liking to it, as he so often did with such things. He shouldn't have been surprised that someone else in the lecture hall would pick up on such a common code. There were any number of geniuses in this very room, and any number of them might be familiar with the tap code. That was just something he would have to get used to, now that he was at Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

"Alright, I’m beginning to see a few too many glazed eyes out there and I know how excited all of you are to have a few days off this week, so I'll wrap it up here." Said the middle-aged man at the front, shutting his presentation down. Peter shifted in the cramped chair, closing his laptop and reaching slowly for the satchel by his feet.

"Happy Thanksgiving." The lecturer said excusing the students who all made a grab for their things in a hurry to leave. Peter practically launched himself out of his seat, wincing as knocked his knee painfully on the top of the desk. Despite that, he was still one of the first to duck out of the lecture hall, eager to begin the four-day weekend that students had been given for Thanksgiving break.

Peter walked swiftly down the hall and out of the building. In his hurry to get away he was still carrying his computer science and coding textbook and busied himself with trying to shove it into his satchel. He found it slightly ironic that MIT still used physical textbooks where they could, but nevertheless enjoyed the bulky presence of it. If anything, it made him feel like he was actually doing something in the course instead of throwing money at a unit he technically should have been able to bypass.

Peter felt confident in what he had chosen to study, particularly considering the hours of deliberation that had gone into making that choice. He knew that he wanted to study computing and knew that such knowledge would be incredibly useful if he wished to progress in the temporary position at Stark Industries that he had taken up in June. Electrical engineering and computer science had been a sensible choice considering what Peter wanted to do and what he was interested in. Chemical engineering and civil and environmental engineering had also caught his eye and Peter hoped he might get to take on a few subjects from those areas if he got the chance. For now, he was more than happy with the subjects he had selected…all except one.

Peter really enjoyed coding, but the Introduction to Computer Science subject, the lecture of which he had just hastily departed, was a foundation subject for beginnersand used Python programming which Peter had been using for years.

Back when he had been taken on as a sort of technical intern/ superhero intern at Stark Industries under the guidance of Tony Stark, Peter had been introduced to Python and a multitude of other programming languages. He still had a lot to learn for sure, but this class was designed for novices and so Peter found himself growing more and more frustrated with the compulsory subject. It didn't help that the course was structured to move at snail’s pace despite the fact that there were likely numerous students in the class, like Peter, who had previous coding experience.

For now, Peter just had to grit his teeth and get on with things. He still did all the work but couldn’t help cutting corners here and there where he already knew what to do. It was just immensely frustrating having to sit through the lectures and classes when there were a million and one other things that he had to take care of.

(This is quite a long chapter, if you would prefer to read on AO3 click here )

Peter pushed open the door and exited the lecture hall's building, walking as quickly as he could without running, in the direction of his dorm. He darted in and out of crowds of students heading to or from lectures and within minutes he had reached his building. He swiped his key card and ducked inside, eager to get out of the chill that had set in across campus, winter was definitely approaching.

Peter paused at the small mail room on the ground floor of his building to check and see if anything had arrived for him. Sure enough, a package was sitting in the P section of the pigeon holes, it was small, and he knew the part inside of it was even smaller. Peter snatched it and quickly checked its address to ensure that it was the one intended for him.

His name was printed on the top in the neat writing of none other than Happy Hogan. The package was wrapped in a ring of red confidential tape just in case whoever was delivering it hadn't garnered that information from the confidential sticker on one of the box's corners. Being head of security at SI, Happy always got a little paranoid about sending Peter such expensive and (potentially) dangerous parts. Peter assured Happy that the postal system was reliable and promised to only ask for parts when he was desperate and needed them sooner than whenever his next trip to New York might be. Peter was honestly surprised that Happy didn't deliver the package himself, or at least send an SI drone to do so for him.

Peter left the mail room and, walking past the elevator, took the stairs two at a time until he had reached the fourth floor.

Scanning his student key card again Peter walked into the 6-bedroom west wing of floor 4, outfitted with a small kitchen, two bathrooms and a reasonably sized common space. It was quiet inside the flat and Peter suspected it was empty, he couldn't hear anything beyond the closed doors he walked past and assumed that everyone who wasn't in class had already gone home for Thanksgiving weekend.

Peter's room itself was small, split down the middle with a bed, desk and wardrobe on either side. He shared it with a guy from Boston called Nic Spencer. He was short with a mop of dark hair and a walk that made most people avoid him, but in the short two months they had been living together Peter had discovered that Nic was actually a huge softie and loved rom coms and Ed Sheeran. He was an easy enough guy to get along with and had the perfect boy next door personality, even if his appearance didn't quite match up with it. Thankfully, Nic was good at knowing when to respect Peter's space. Living together definitely made you more intuitive to the other persons needs and Peter knew when to stay out of Nic's way when he was in a funk, whether that be over college work or a malfunction in the small but fully operational hydroponic system that he had set up on their windowsill.

At present, their room was empty and quiet, save for the goldfish sat on Nic's desk and the quiet whir of the pump for the hydroponic. Peter's side of the room was unusually organised as he had done a quick clean that morning, not wanting to leave it in a state that he'd have to deal with once he came back next Tuesday. Normally, his side tended to get a little bit messy, particularly when his Stark Industries work or his Avengers work or even just plain college work started getting a little too much. The last few weeks had Peter stretched thin, trying to balance endless responsibilities while ensuring that each of his assignments was handed in on time, naturally his room had gotten pretty bad pretty quickly as he started getting home from the library later and later, pausing only to change and leave his clothes on the ground before getting to bed. For the most part, Nic didn’t seem to mind and often times his side of the room was no better.

Peter dropped his satchel onto his desk chair and rolled his shoulder. May had insisted on buying it for him before he left New York, saying that a backpack made him look even more like a high schooler. Not exactly what Peter had needed to hear before moving states to a completely new life, with new friends and new experiences.

It wasn't completely new though. Peter received his scholarship at MIT pretty late (he suspected that taking up his position at Stark Industries had some part to play) but his best friend Ned Leeds had known about his place for weeks before Peter had even been accepted, let alone awarded the scholarship. They'd both been incredibly excited to move together and had applied to the same preference of residential halls only to find they were placed in completely different dorms, likely due to the College's stressing of making ‘new connections’. Nevertheless, Peter was grateful to have Ned there and even if they didn't live in the same halls of residence, they still saw each other every day and texted when they didn't.

Swapping out his satchel for his trusty backpack Peter added his phone, wallet and newly acquired package to the bag and zipped it up tightly. Happy would literally kill Peter if that part got lost.

Doing a quick scan to ensure that he hadn't left anything behind, as Peter was always careful to do following an unfortunate incident at the beginning of the semester when he had left out his Stark Industries tablet on his bed before going to class. Nic's eyes had been full of questions when Peter had returned to their room later that day. Peter could have sworn that the tablet was in a slightly different position to where it had been when he left and though he was certain that Karen would have alerted him if anyone besides him was using the tablet, it still made Peter antsy. After that he was even more sure that he had made the right decision in choosing not to keep anyof his Spidey tech, including the suit, in his room. It was too much of a risk. So was not having his suit with him 24/7, a thought which had kept Peter awake endlessly for the first few weeks until he had finally decided on keeping a pair of web shooters with him at all times.

Deciding that everything was in its right place, Peter shut the door firmly behind him and headed straight back down the corridor he had been in moments earlier. Now there was the faint trilling of music coming from Sam and Lily's room. Peter considered knocking on the slightly ajar door to say goodbye before the short Thanksgiving break but decided he was too awkward and ducked out the front door of their flat.

Even before moving, Peter knew that he was going to need a place to work outside of his room. After receiving his work contract from Stark Industries' CEO in May and after many discussions with his aunt and a few amendments to the conditions, he had started working in June. Peter had loved that summer break spent at Stark Industries and for the first time since the Snap he had found himself feeling like he had before disappearing along with half of the population five years earlier. The job had given him the instant gratification of putting his brain to work after so many weeks of hardcore studying for finals. In the few months he spent working part time at SI before moving away from New York Peter felt like his brain shifted and it had been strange to begin studying again, regardless of how useful the knowledge he was gaining was to his part time work.

Before moving at the very end of August Peter had done a quick property search for the cheapest places nearby to rent some sort of workspace. Pepper had offered to help him with the money given that Peter would be doing work for SI there, but peter had insisted on covering it himself.

Peter had reached the ground floor of his building again and burst out the doors, darting around the corner and unlocking his bike from where it was chained with a dozen or so others. Swinging a leg haphazardly over the seat Peter kicked off and started peddling hard past the other residential halls and out into the suburban streets.

He had happened upon the warehouse by surprise and at first it had seemed ludicrous to rent such a large space. All Peter really needed was a secure place to keep his suits and tech while he was working on them. Most of his equipment was remaining at his private SI lab, or the 'Spidey Cave' as May so often called it.

Once Peter had seen the photos of the space’s open plan, the exposed brick wall that bordered one side and the towering windows of the second floor of the old factory warehouse he felt like the decision had been made automatically. It was priced decently, and the deposit wasn’t too crippling, plus the electrical advantages of it being located so close to a power grid was undeniable. Within the day Peter had placed an offer and within a few days the paperwork was signed, and the deposit money gone from his account. Thankfully he had been working at SI otherwise there was no way he could have even dreamed of having a space like the warehouse.

The one disadvantage was that it was a twenty-minute bike ride away from where he lived. Compared to the exertion Peter was used to, it wasn’t much of a hassle and if anything, it was actually a good opportunity to get some exercise now that Peter wasn’t swinging around the city every night. He tried to go out as often as he could but being seen as Spider-Man near MIT and not in New York made him uncomfortable, surely the people he knew could put two and two together if they heard about it? Not to mention the press, who were getting more and more antsy about his identity, he had already been photographed twice while out at night in Massachusetts, resulting in the Avengers releasing a statement that claimed the blurry photos were of copycats and the real Spider-Man was still residing in New York. Luckily, Peter went back home every other weekend which made the tale as believable as it needed to be.

Peter rounded the last corner and pulled up to the warehouse, breaking as he arrived at the front door and pulling out his keys. He slotted the small key, one of the few physical keys he actually owned given that so many things were key card operated at the college and Stark Industries and turned it. The door opened stiffly outwards and Peter walked down the entry way past the windows that looked into the space of one of the other tenants. Peter had never seen or heard from whoever occupied the ground floor space, but the pealing sign stuck to one of the frosted glass windows read Simple Phone Plans Call Centre which was pretty self-explanatory. Peter walked his bike past the glass and to the stairs leading to the second floor. He took them slowly as he navigated the awkward frame of his bike up and round the flight of dank stairs.

The whole bottom half of the warehouse and the entrance made it a rather unappealing place. Whatever paint was left on the walls was peeling and stained and the air in the stairwell had the uncomfortably pungent tang of urine and sulphur.

The warehouse's grimy interior (and indeed, exterior) had deterred Peter initially and he had worried that his work at Stark Industries and the first-class facilities he was used to had made him snobby. That still didn't make up for the state that the warehouse was in… but it was cheap and relatively close, and his floor was actually quite pleasant compared to the rest of the building… plus who would expect such a place to house information worth thousands of dollars?

Peter reached the top of the stairwell and set his bike on the two hooks he had installed on the wall, suspending it next to the door. Once they felt the weight the mechanised black hooks locked the bike frame in place. The door was another one of Peter's alteration. Even if no one would think to rob the warehouse, Peter wasn't about to leave expensive equipment unguarded. As a result, he had ordered one of the special scanners that was used throughout SI and programmed it to accept his clearance card that he used at his lab back in New York.

Peter pulled out a little black box from his backpack, something he had made right after he'd had the distinct suspicion that Nic had looked through some of his things. Holding the thin device up to his face Peter stopped blinking and allowed the machine to take a scan of his eye.

"Retina scan complete." A small voice said, and the black box emitted a soft click as it released its bottom panel. Peter slid it open further and retrieved his SI clearance card, embossed on both sides with the Spider-Man and Avengers logos.

At first, he had wondered whether it was a better idea to just keep his Avengers/Spider-Man clearance card back in New York but after the first week of waking up at 4 in the morning and getting nervous about it being stolen, he had decided to bring it to college with him. The black box had been a natural addition to security and if anyone except Peter's eye was scanned it was programmed to self-destruct, card and all. What Peter might do if that ever happened and how he would get into his lab was a sort of ‘cross that bridge when we come to’ it kinda thing.

Removing the SI card fully Peter pressed it up to the scanner on the door and heard several clicks as the door recognised him and unlocked, disabling the numerous alarms Peter had set on the doors and windows and roof…. And pretty much any other entrance into the top floor of the warehouse.

Peter sometimes wondered if he was paranoid.

As the door swung open Peter took a relieved look out at his work space. The floors creaked as he stepped forward, swinging the door firmly closed behind him. Back when Peter had first leased the top floor he had been concerned about the structure of the building and the parts of the floor that felt far too weak for comfort. A quick trip down to Simple Phone Plans and a few swings around the rafters reinforcing their ceiling with translucent webs had set his mind to rest.

Peter dumped his backpack on the workbench, taking out the small package and tore the side off to get at the bubble wrapped part beneath. He unwrapped it fully and set it on top of his holo-table, one of the few pieces of equipment that he had brought with him from SI.

"Karen, Happy sent me that part, can you make sure everything is in order?"

"Sure thing, Peter." Karen said back to him from the cheap speakers Peter had placed in each corner of the room.

Peter was sure that everything was in order with the part but there wasn't really much he could do until next week. The part had been scheduled to arrive on Monday after he’d asked Happy to send it out on Sunday for next day delivery. Peter had been working feverishly all weekend on his current project and had been desperate for the part to accelerate his experimentation and get one step closer to-- Well regardless, it hadn’t arrived in time so there wasn’t much point doing anything about it now.

Peter walked over to his mini fridge in the corner of the room and retrieved a soda, popping the cap off and ditching it into the bin in the opposite side of the lab, listening to the satisfying sound of it hitting tin.

The lab was open plan, just as Peter liked it, allowing for plenty of space for him to move around (and swing from the rafters when testing out his webs - or just for fun). A long mismatched combination of tables of different heights and shapes made up a long work top, scattered with tech and tools that Peter had left out the night before. Peter thought it was endearing in its unevenness even if most of it was from second hand shops or dumpsters. In fact, he had grown so proud of the finished product and the fact that most of the tables were pretty sturdy that he had sent a photo to Happy. Naturally, Happy had shown Pepper the photo who was apparently mildly horrified and had asked Peter if she could share the lease or at least buy him a proper workspace. Peter had declined, he liked the responsibility. Pepper had let it go… but not before she had an incredibly comfortable couch delivered to the lab. He had almost returned it, but it proved so useful for nights when Peter didn't feel like going back to his halls of residence and could just collapse on the couch instead that he had agreed to keep it.

The couch was currently pressed up against the exposed brick wall that bordered one side of the workspace. Down from the couch was a lone glass case with his Spidey suit standing upright and ready for Peter to wear, not that he really had the chance these days. Between his college work, Stark Industries and his own personal projects Peter was flat out… and that wasn't taking into consideration the obligations he had back in New York as Spider-Man and to the Avengers.

"Peter, just a reminder than Happy will be picking you up in an hour." A voice crackled over Peter's makeshift speakers.

"Thanks George." Peter said sipping at his soda as he walked back over to his worktop. George was his new AI. Peter had always wanted to develop his own artificial intelligence and as such had spent most of his spare time over the Summer developing George. He was a simple piece of organising software that was programmed to basically run Peter's life and take care of the smaller things that Peter felt a little bad giving to such a high line computer like Karen. Though he used George as a sort of daily planner and time manager at the moment, his abilities could be developed to manage organisations as big as Stark Industries. George's framework had been buried deep in one of the files that Tony had left on the hard drive for Peter. Back then the AI had been incomplete with only a basic scaffold and it had taken Peter weeks to get the hang of the programming and design.

"If you get the 12:14 bus you should arrive just in time to meet him." George replied.

"Sure thing!" Peter said setting his can down on the bench and walking over to the window to look outside.

Despite the convenience of the lab’s proximity to a power grid and his college, and its run-down appearance that made it a wolf in sheep's clothing, what had really won Peter over had been the windows.

Just like the Lab back at SI, one side of the warehouse was made up of floor to ceiling windows - an odd feature Peter thought, though he didn't really know what the space was used for before it was put out to let. The windows meant that during the day Peter didn't even bother turning the lights on, allowing him to redirect the remaining power to his other tech and significantly decreasing the risk of migraines and sensory overload. It was incredibly freeing to have such an open space compared with his shared room and the cramped lecture halls at MIT. Naturally, since moving away from home the new lab had become a sort of escape for Peter.

"The new addition to project Chronos has cleared all my checks but will take a while to assemble with the current model." Karen said. "Shall we store it securely until you get back from your trip?"

"Yeah we might as well." Peter said in dismay turning away from the window and sighing. It had become frustrating with all of the equipment he needed back at his SI lab and only the bare minimum here at his Massachusetts lab. He tried to work on his SI projects as much as he could, but a lot of the physical things had to be done in person, hence part of his reasons for returning to New York every other week. He had tried putting robots to work to assemble some of his projects but always relished the satisfaction of putting the prototypes together himself when he had the time.

"Your bus will arrive in approximately eight minutes sir; shall I purchase a pass for you?" George asked as Peter started locking the place up.

"That'd be great thank you George." Peter replied, walking past the windows and checking the scanner at the base of each which was constantly on, ready to detect any intruder and alert Peter and Karen immediately.

"Also, sir, a reminder that you have three unread messages from MJ, an Instagram message from Ned and as requested, I have compiled today’s news according to anything you may find interesting as well as any articles mentioning Spider-Man."

"That’s awesome!" Peter said beaming, he'd only managed to get George to run expansive media searches recently and even then, he usually malfunctioned because something in Peter's coding wasn't correct. "Great job George!"

"I try my best, sir."

"I've told you before, you don't need to call me sir, at least not until I'm like 25 or something." Peter said smiling still as he strode over to the Spidey suit stored securely in its case. Spider-Man hadn't been in New York for two weeks and the press would start getting suspicious if he didn't show up soon.

"Of course, sir." George said before hastily correcting himself "I mean, of course."

Peter hummed tunelessly as the lock on the suit scanned his eye and recognised him. The glass hissed slightly as it slowly slid back to reveal his suit in all its glory.

To tell the truth, Peter felt kind of deprived of it when he wasn't using it. Compared to months ago when he couldn't get in the suit without crippling panic attacks, he now relished his time wearing it, as rare as it was becoming these days.

Peter picked the suit up by the shoulders and felt it being released by the stand that held it upright within the case. Peter held it before him to admire it. He had created a third suit since working at Stark Industries, one that was personal to him and had his own design and embellishments, it was an excellent suit. That didn't stop Peter from coming back to his original suit every time. It may not have been strong or intuitive as the Iron Spider suit or have as many capabilities as his new Spider-Man suit, but it was still important to him. Tony Stark had given Peter many things, a place of work where he could actually do something with his brain, incredible tech to experiment with, a hard drive containing terabytes of knowledge that most of the world would kill for, among other things. But the most important thing that Tony had given Peter was the ability to be a real Super Hero, he had taken Peter under his wing and brought him into the world of the Avengers where Peter felt he could really make a difference. So, Peter held onto the Mark 1.

Heading over to the grey blue couch that Pepper had bought him, Peter carefully folded the suit up and put it in the duffle bag he was taking back to New York for Thanksgiving.

College had been crazy recently and it would be nice to get away from all his school work, even if that just meant turning to his work at Stark Industries or Spider-Man or the number of other commitments he had to the Avengers. Peter's brain seemed to strain and throb just thinking about the number of things he had to get done. He took a deep breath in through his nose and held for a moment, focusing on his heartbeat and then expanding his senses to the space around him, the fly buzzing up near the top of one of the windows, the soft thrumming of the electricity that powered his security system from the surprisingly unassuming box fixed to the far wall, to the feeling of his fingers brushing against the fibres of his duffle bag. He breathed out slowly.

"Your bus is due in four minutes, Peter." George said over the speakers and Peter darted his head up to glance at the clock sitting on one end of his workbench.

"Right." Peter said nodding and zipping up the duffle bag and slinging it over a shoulder. "Karen?"

"All systems locked down for your departure, Peter." Karen said as Peter grabbed his keys, phone and the black notebook with most of his Stark Industries research notes.

"Alright then." Peter turned, hefting his duffle bag and giving his lab a once over, walking backwards a few paces before deciding that everything was as it should be and heading for the door. "You're in charge while we are away George, anything happens you let me know."

"Yes sir." George crackled over the speakers as Peter shut the door behind him and waited patiently as it locked behind him. Unlike Karen, George's system was still so new and at times unstable, that Peter didn't really want to mobilise the AI quite yet, as useful as that might be. Peter had to admit that leaving a set of eyes… or rather a computer brain capable of keeping an 'eye' on things, made him feel a good deal more comfortable about leaving his equipment in the warehouse lab. Karen on the other hand, accompanied Peter everywhere these days, whether it was in his SI tablet, his SI earpieces, the Spidey suit or occasionally his phone

Peter dashed down the stairs, taking them two at a time and jumping from the fourth stair to the ground floor once he reached the end. A quick glance at his watch told him that four minutes had become two and that if he didn't hurry, he wouldn't make it to the bus.

After a quick glance to make sure no one was watching, Peter jumped up onto the rooftop of the small block of apartments next to the warehouse and began hopping his way from building to building. Peter reached the bus stop with thirty seconds to spare, his research notebook clasped tightly to his chest and his head full of thoughts of home. This weekend was hopefully going to be an escape from his work and responsibilities, hopefully he'd get to spend some time with MJ and his family and come back to college rested and rejuvenated. It was a naïve thought, Peter knew it, but despite that he still had hope that this weekend would serve more than four days of more work. Little did he know, fate had other plans.

#spiderman #Peter parker #spiderman fanfiction #visionsofusfics #irondad #spiderson #Peter post snap #doesn't correlate with ffh #post endgame #avengers #Tony stark #Morgan stark #pepper potts #Michelle jones #may parker #ned leeds #Carol Danvers at some point

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