#guy who sucks so hard its unreal

[spacecase-stims]

Stimboard: Ludo Lestat from St Agatha City

🔨🔥🔨 🔥💔🔥 🔨🔥🔨

[calcifiedunderland]

Pride and Prejudice: A TWSTed AU

The Keeper of the Underworld: I. Shroud

Introduction, or Pick another route!

Idia x GN Reader (they/them)

Warnings: P&P-level angst and miscommunication, some cringe dialogue, parties, possibly ooc Idia, I wrote this before playing Book 6 so I apologize if there’s any inconsistencies

Notes: The level of overthinking I put into these fics is unreal 💀 First and foremost, thank you all for your patience!! Idia was hard to write, but I hope you enjoy, shrimpies~

———

Well this is certainly something, you thought. Of all the things you’d witnessed at NRC, (even overblots), you didn’t think you’d ever see Idia Shroud at one of Kalim’s parties.

You sipped on your drink when a shock of bright blue flames came in the corner of your eye, contrasting the orange-red of Scarabia. Kalim lead Idia into the dorm, bright and sunny, compared to the look on Idia’s face. Poor guy couldn’t even escape, because Cater and Rook ambled in behind him, chatting happily.

It was like the beginning of a joke: A sultan, a card soldier, a huntsman, and a blue flame-headed gamer walk into a room.

Kalim spotted you and grinned, grabbing Idia’s hoodie sleeve and dragging him over too. “Hey (name)! I’m glad you could make it!”

You smiled at the Scarabia Housewarden, “Thanks Kalim! I-“ At that moment, Jamil reached him to drag him away, mumbling exasperatedly to Kalim about being careful. Kalim laughed Jamil off, “sorry (name)! I’ll see you later, okay?” “Alright then…” you trailed off and turned to Idia, who looked like a deer in headlights.

“So…” you rocked on your heels. To be honest, you didn’t know how to approach him sometimes. Sure, you’d gamed with him a few times (with heavy insistence from Ortho) and you weren’t on his ‘avoid at all costs’ ranking list, but Idia did have his odd moments. Some days, you two would get along like a house on fire. Other times, it was like Idia hated you - avoiding you even in tablet-mode, and ghosting your chats.

You’d like to think that your more friendly moments were the ones that Idia counted, but sometimes it was hard to get a read on the guy.

“I didn’t know that you’d be at Kalim’s party today. I thought Ortho said there was an event in… um…?” You finished, cringing at your vagueness. You might not have known much about the game he played, even though he’d made you play it when you came over to Ignihyde, but you knew he probably didn’t want to be here of all places.

Idia’s hair flared a bit, and he looked resigned and moody. He pulled out his tablet. Ya, the event dropped today but I got mobbed by kalim + the extroverts. “That sucks,” you said, “I got dragged here by Ace. Still, it’s nice to see you.” In the oil lamp lighting, you could’ve sworn Idia’s hair turned a bit pink.

You were both silent, and you opened your mouth to speak when Lilia yelled out from the front, “let’s get this party started!” Kalim started drumming wildly, and then electric guitar swelled. Lilia began screaming heavy-metal-style into the mic. Around you, everyone started dancing, and even you found yourself moving to the rhythm.

You glanced at Idia every now and again, but he looked vaguely annoyed and tired despite the liveliness. He looks so over it, you thought. Probably since Kalim maybe dragged him here. You looked around, biting your lip when you noticed your friends having a grand old time on the dance floor, and kind of wanted to go too. Still, it wasn’t every day you saw Idia, and you wanted to do something with him. Especially since he was… well, here.

“So, Idia…” Idia’s eyes snapped to yours, dull. You rocked back on your feet, “do you dance?” Idia rolled his eyes, and you felt your heart sink, for some reason. Obvi not, id probs distract everyone anyway. And also id just rather not if I can help it. Your smile wavered, “c’mon Idia, anyone can dance, even if it’s not good!” Idia typed rapidly into the tablet, i mean ur not wrong. Like literally anyone can dance but ppl only do it bc its wat normies do.

You opened your mouth, then squared your shoulders, words failing you. Idia shoved a hand into his pockets and opened an app on the tablet, scrolling. You swayed for a bit, feeling awkward while Idia kept his eyes glued to the screen, a frown creasing his brows. Finally you shrugged your shoulders, trying to shake that sinking-feeling off.

You stepped into the crowd of dancing people, swaying to the music and trying not to look over at the blue flames swaying in the corner. Unknowing to you, Idia glanced up from his tablet every few minutes, trying to catch a glimpse of you, before trudging back to the cold chrome of Ignihyde, back to his dorm.

———

Ugh, could this get any worse?

Idia flopped onto his bed, shoving his headphones on and opening the mobile game on his phone. Not only did he get a late start on the game event, but he flubbed a chance to talk to you. Even if you did want to dance like all the other non-introverts at Scarabia. Thank Sevens Ortho didn’t know he missed his chance, otherwise the little robot would’ve torn Idia apart.

Idia shut his eyes and went over the details. Doing this IRL was trash-tier. Why couldn’t this just be a good-old-fashioned otome game, or romance anime? First you meet the love interest, then you find things they’re into, then you talk to them more. Then finally you confess, and cue the outro. He’d watched countless shojo and romance anime’s, and that was the basic outline. Eventually, the ethereal, gorgeous, smart, kind protagonist (aka you) would fall in love with their love interest (aka him) and it would all work out. Boom. Happily ever after.

Ah, yes. He could see it now.

Cherry blossom petals rained around both of you. Where are they coming from, this campus doesn’t grow cherry blossoms? Whatever, don’t question it. Anyway, the petals fluttered past your beautiful, sparkling eyes as you stared up at Idia with adoration and love. Idia stared down at you with full-rizz, kabedoning you against the wall.

“Oh, Idia-senpai!” You’d cry, eyes turning into hearts as sparkles and pink flower petals surround you both. “You’re so cool and not cringe at all! I could never want one of those normies! You’re the only one for me! Please date me!” And then Ortho would set off the heart-shaped fireworks and you two would finally kiss-kiss-fall-in-love, just like the popular anime Our High School Has A Host Club And The Leader Falls In Love With Me?!

“Whee hee hee…” Idia stared off into the distance, giggling ominously to himself and hair turning pink at the ends. His character on the screen went into idle mode, and he didn’t even hear when Ortho floated into the room. “Big brother?” Ortho gently tapped him on the shoulder, yanking him from his shojo daydream. Idia jumped, hair flaring. “AAAIIIIEEEE-“ Ortho jumped back, eyes wide but not detecting any signs of injury on Idia.

Idia breathed heavily, wide-eyed. “Ortho! Wh-when did-? I wasn’t-!” Ortho analyzed his heart beat, noting that Idia had traces of blush on his cheeks and his erratic behavior pointed to- “Were you thinking about (name) (last name)?” Ortho asked innocently, his theory proven when Idia flushed and went pinker. The younger boy suddenly got an idea.

“You know, (Name)’s heart rate goes up when they interact with you,” Ortho watched his brother’s eyes widen, “even when you’re not there, when you’re mentioned, their heart rate increases by 45% and they are more likely to be in a positive mood. 82% of the time, they regard you in a positive way.” His eyes lit up happily with realization, “If my calculations are correct, they have feelings for you!”

Idia sat there, thinking. What were the odds you would like him back? Sure, you made him happy, and more importantly made Ortho happy. And it was actually nice talking to you. And he never felt exhausted after interacting with you. And maybe you did enjoy the artificial light of Ignihyde to the spring sun above, and maybe you would like being with dreary, nerdy him.

Ortho could see his brother lost in thought, noting that Idia’s heart rate spiked when he mentioned you. “I also overheard them telling Grim about finding a partner,” he said casually, omitting that you’d been wanting a partner in Alchemy, and not necessarily a romantic partner.

That seemed to fire Idia up. Ortho could see the metaphorical cogs in Idia’s brain turning, an entire blueprint of a plan being made in his mind. At last, a wide cunning grin spread on his face, and he opened his arms, “well, who else but a genius could be partners with the MC?” He said arrogantly, “it’s not like just anybody can woo the protagonist!”

Ortho beamed, cheering, “all you need to do now is confess!” Idia immediately began sweating, freezing up. “H-huh?!”

——

You frowned at your textbook, rubbing your temples as you read through the alchemy procedure. Ugh, this couldn’t get any more confusing.

As you turned to begin writing, the door burst open. You flinched and immediately locked eyes with a frazzled Idia. His golden eyes were wide, and he was panting - he even looked sweaty. Somehow his blue fire hair seemed just as frazzled as him, looking pale-blue in shock. Could flames somehow look poofy?

“Prefect!” He squeaked. “Idia?” You questioned, what’s he doing here? It was odd that he’d be out of his room at six in the afternoon, not to mention he looked afraid of you. It wasn’t like you were a stranger, even though as of late, he treated you like one.

He stared at you from the door for an uncomfortable amount of time, then sped-walked to stand in front of you. You looked up at him from your seat, tapping your fingers. You awkwardly asked “do you wanna sit down?” He shook his head quickly, the ends of his hair were turning pink. You frowned, “…dude, are you okay?”

Idia flinched. He pivoted on his heel, “no, no, can’t do it, not today-“ he scuttled out of the room and slammed the door, screeching to himself and pulling his hood over his head. You stared at the door, vaguely hearing Idia freaking out to… was that Ortho? You heard the little robot boy’s voice through the door, probably calming Idia down, along with an odd spraying sound.

It went quiet and you assumed they’d left. Whatever, weirder things have happened at NRC. As you went back to writing, the door slammed open again. You jumped, heart beating wildly. Idia stormed over to you, hair blazing a trail behind him. He slammed his hands down on the desk, and your eyes watered with the scent of overpowering cologne bodyspray.

“Prefect! I need to tell you something!” Idia’s eyes steeled in determination, and he looked you dead in the eye. He was breathing heavily, and his flamed hair blazed and curled more than usual, turning deep pinkish-red near the ends. The last time you saw his hair similar to that, was when he was rage-playing during one of your gaming sessions. How pissed is he? You felt your heart leap into your throat.

“Idia,” you began, freaked out, “I think you should sit down-“ Idia blazed on, “this is honestly a horrible decision for you and definitely for me. I don’t even want to think about what Mother and Father would say, not to mention how this’d affect Styx.” He was tunnel visioning now. “Plus you don’t even have magic and this might not even work out anyway ‘cause I don’t see us working out TBH…” Slowly his hair began fizzling out, voice getting quieter and quieter as he mumbled to himself.

This was a terrible idea, Idia realized. After everything that had happened with Styx, not to mention everything you had to deal with personally, it wouldn’t be good to get involved with him. You could be in danger, especially as a non-magic user. No, it would be selfish of him to ask you to be with him. Why would you, anyway? There were other guys at NRC, not to mention the entire Sage’s Island, who would be a better fit for not. Especially ones who didn’t kidnap your friends and Grim. Especially someone like Idia.

No, he concluded. He shouldn’t have come.

You frowned deeply. “Idia, what…?” Your alchemy work definitely wasn’t done yet and Idia was making zero sense. He sighed, as if tired all of a sudden. “Nope, no… this isn’t going to work.” He stood abruptly and sped-walked out the door, brushing past Ortho. You overheard the boy try to get his brother to come back, but Idia didn’t stop. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. So that’s what this is about? Idia didn’t want to be friends with you anymore? All because you weren’t… what? A tech whiz? Good at gaming? Magical? Your heart dropped. Because you were just too different from him? So you weren’t good enough to be even friends with him?

Your eyes stung at the thought. Fine. If Idia wanted to be that way, then fine. You shoved your books into you bag and headed back to Ramshackle. You doubted you’d be able to focus, anyway.

———

Poor Ortho was confused.

After running simulation after simulation, scouring the Internet for any clues, and piecing together what Idia said after running out of the classroom, he just couldn’t understand what happened. That was a first, considering it was Ortho.

Idia had ran out of the room in a hurry, mumbling incoherently. “Brother! What’s happening?” Ortho flew to him, scanning his vitals. Idia seemed to be ok, but his brother seemed… strangely melancholic. “Ortho, it won’t work out,” he said dejectedly, not wanting to talk about it.

Ortho called after him, trailing behind “What did (name) (last name) say? There was a high probability they’d accept your-” Idia sighed in exasperation, shaking his head. “It won’t work. I should’ve never left the dorm…” As Idia trudged back to Ignihyde, Ortho was left with more questions.

He hovered for a moment, before heading back to the alchemy room for you, only to not find you there. Ortho thought hard, thinking back to what Idia said. ‘It won’t work out,’ was what he said - not a flat-out rejection from you. So that meant…

He began floating back to Ignihyde, determined. I can still save this!

———

You were taking overthinking to a new level.

You bit your lip, staring at the game’s chatbox in front of you. Idia was online, and probably didn’t realize you were too. You leaned against the Heartslabyul common room couch (curse Ramshackle’s lack of internet!), and hit send.

Hey is everything ok??

You watched Idia’s game icon immediately switch to “online less than 1 minute ago,” and groaned.

Cater exited the kitchens, leaning over the couch back. “Hey~ what’s got my fave frosh so worked up?” He chirped, looking at your phone. “Ohh, isn’t that the popular game that’s been trending? Wait, didn’t you say Idia got you into it?” Cater immediately had his phone in hand, “that’s supes adorable, playing with friends is so fun-“

You cut him off, throwing your hands up, “that’s it! Idia just doesn’t want to talk to me! He- he just-!” You grabbed a throw pillow and smashed your face into it, groaning. Cater patted your shoulder sympathetically, “well, we’re playing at another one of Kalim’s parties tonight, you want in?” You sniffed dramatically, thinking. “Well, I guess. Sure, why not?”

Later that evening, you stepped into the Scarabia mirror. You and Cater made your way to the food table. As you both munched on Jamil’s cooking (damn, the guy made a good curry), you watched everyone dancing. “Y’know, it was weird seeing Idia at a party,” you commented, while Cater nodded. “Yeah! We decided to bring him along that day, it was fun seeing him.”

You sighed, “yeah, it was, but… it’s not really often that we can hang out in person. I kinda wanted to dance with him last time, but he sort of… blew me off? I guess maybe it wasn’t the best idea.” You winced, while Cater’s eyebrows rose. “You didn’t tell me that. So, he did that and also told you he didn’t want to be friends?” You nodded, frustration flooding back, “Yeah! And I just don’t understand how he can be so conceited about him being so high and smart, and not like me because I don’t-“

“Prefect,” Cater cleared his throat. You looked up mid-rant, meeting Ortho’s eyes, and jumped. He just snuck up on you both like it was nothing. Did he hear you? Hopefully he wouldn’t be mad. In your mind, Idia started it.

“Hello (name) (last name)!” Ortho said pleasantly, so you assumed he hadn’t heard you. Great. “I didn’t know you’d be here! What a coincidence!” That was a lie, Ortho overheard you and Cater talking about the party when you were walking to Scarabia. He absolutely knew. And he dragged Idia here because of it.

“Yep,” you smiled at Ortho, “it’s nice to see you.” Ortho mentally readied himself and remembered every bit of acting advice Vil gave him. “I almost forgot!” His eyes widened, while your eyes narrowed. Ortho was a robot. He didn’t forget shit. “Big brother is here, and he wanted to ask you to dance!” What? Your neck snapped around, looking for Idia’s bright blue hair. Cater elbowed you, bringing you back to reality.

“I-well, I- had not-“ you stammered, fumbling for an excuse. Ortho’s eyes shone at you like puppy eyes, and your anger at Idia cracked. “…yeah, sure,” you watched Ortho rise a bit in the air happily, “Yippee! I’ll go get him!” He zipped off, and you rubbed your temples. Cater twisted a strand of his hair, eyes wide. “Yikes…” “tell me about it,” you groaned.

A few minutes later, you both looked up when Kalim tapped the mic. You didn’t miss Ortho hovering a ways behind Kalim. “Hey everyone! Thanks for coming!” When the cheering died down, Kalim continued, “We’re gonna try something different! Everyone, find a partner and join the dance floor!”

Cater glanced at you, mischievous. “Welp, I can’t leave them hanging~ TTYL, Prefect!” And he left faster than you could say ‘Magicam.’ Sweet.

You hesitantly stepped to the dance floor, half expecting Ortho to float up to you and sheepishly tell you Idia left. Your mind drifted back to that day in the alchemy room. I guess it wouldn’t work, anyway.

To your surprise, a finger tapped your shoulder. You turned, seeing Idia with a with a flushed expression, wearing a casual-but-chic blazer. His hair looked a bit tamer than normal, and cascaded down his back in a low ponytail, bangs flickering over his forehead. Undoubtedly, this was the work of Ortho, who definitely got pointers from Vil.

You both stared at each other, unmoving, until slow music began playing. You averted your eyes. Idia gulped, eyes widening until waving caught his eye. Ortho was flying upwards a little ways away from the slowly-crowding dance floor, gesturing wildly at you. As if that wasn’t enough, he projected words above his head: DANCE WITH THEM!

Idia was lucky that everyone else was more interested in dancing with their partner than Ortho. His eyes snapped back to you, “s-so I guess you wanna-“ he swallowed thickly, eyes shifting to the dance floor. You shrugged, feigning nonchalance and looked ahead. Idia looked back at Ortho, who was pointing wildly at the words. He thought to himself, this is fine. It’s just the mandatory side quest. It’s not fighting the boss. It’s…

It’s charming the love interest. It’s solidifying your route!

Idia steeled himself and forced your hand into his. Your eyes shot to his in surprise, and he walked stiffly to the dance floor. Your hand clasped his, and you both swayed gently to the soft rock from the stage. Your brows furrowed, but Idia locked his gaze onto you, focusing only on you.

Yes, he thought. This is just the player’s pov on the screen, and he was only focusing on the love interest. The other waltzers didn’t exist. The party didn’t exist. It was just you and him.

Meanwhile, you were at a loss for words. While Idia seemed taciturn, you glanced up at the stage. Cater, Kalim, and Lilia were in their own little bubble jamming out, so that wasn’t a lifeline. After a little while of swaying with Idia, you hummed, “I haven’t seen you in a while. Since that day.” Idia’s hands felt clammy, and in the dimmed lights you saw a small pink dusting Idia’s cheeks. You saw him swallow heavily, but he didn’t say a word.

The tension grew between you two, and despite feeling hurt, you felt a little bad. Still, you wanted some answers out of Idia, after the incident in the alchemy room. “Y’know, you never used to be this… odd around me.” Was it the crowd that made him quiet, or… You felt a lump in your throat. Was it you?

Idia’s eyebrows shot up, thinking fast on what to say. Why can't conversations irl have ready-made dialogue?! “I… we c-can talk about wh-whatever you want? I guess?” He tried, kicking himself internally for leaving his tablet with Ortho. You bit the inside of your cheek as you stepped with him, that’ll do for now. “Scarabia parties are a little much, but they’re more pleasant than the Pomefiore mock balls,” you tried “wouldn’t you say?” After an uncomfortable pause, expecting a reply, you mumbled to yourself, “I guess we can stop talking now.”

“...is it like a rule for normies to chat while dancing? Isn’t the act of moving enough?” Idia mumbled in exasperation, hand tightening a little on your own. You bit your lip, your eyes burning. “No, I prefer to not talk to my friends at all and tell them we can’t be friends. It’s so much fun, right?” Idia’s eyes widened, and he scrambled for words, “I- I didn’t mean…” You stopped swaying abruptly, both of your clasped hands in the air. “Why are you here, Idia?”

A chill went through Idia. “T-To be honest, I didn’t even want to come to this stupid IRL dance,” he rushed out, “TBH Ortho had to make me come ‘cause he told me you’d be here-“ “You didn’t want…?” You cut Idia off, heart dropping. The other dancing couples swirled around you, but all the commotion around you felt like nothing more than idle chatter. Hurt flashed in your eyes, and Idia seemed shocked, which made you angry.

“I guess you wouldn’t want to be friends with someone who’s magicless, especially since you have STYX right?”

Idia’s eyes were wider than the Heartslabyul tea saucers. For once, he didn’t have a smart-ass reply. “Um, what? Obvi, I’m kind of stuck with STYX-” You let go of his hand and took a step back, almost bumping into a waltzing couple. “Yeah, wouldn’t want me to mess things up. Make any bad decisions and all that, right?” You felt your eyes water, despite yourself.

Furiously balling a fist and wiping your eyes, “Since you said we wouldnt work out n’stuff.” Idia suddenly remembered everything he’d muttered to himself, from the moment he’d stormed into the room to when he’d left dejectedly. When he’d made his choice and left before you could even get your word in.

Like a coward.

Idia’s heart pounded but shakingly, he reached a hand out to you. “P-prefect, I-I-!” You dodged the crowd, and ran out of Scarabia. You didn’t look back until you crashed through Ramshackle’s door, raced up the stairs, and fell onto your bed, Grim yelping in surprise as you tried your darndest to forget everything that just happened.

Back in Scarabia, Idia somehow stumbled off the dance floor, staggering to a table and breathing heavily. Mentally he replayed everything that just happened. Ortho floated over to him, “Brother? I don’t understand, why would (name) (last name) not accept your feelings?” Ortho went over the footage when he was observing you both dancing, and frowned.

“My senses indicate that based on their body language, they were upset with you. What happened?” Idia swallowed heavily, “I-I said it wouldn’t work out between us c-cuz they don’t have magic,” he stammered, eyes wide, “a-and STYX and-...” Ortho’s eyes widened, then narrowed, “That shouldn’t be a problem! You know that!”

“I meant for them, Ortho.” Idia sighed heavily, sinking into the chair. “I don’t want them to get hurt. Not when…” his mind wandered to Ortho, before NRC. He fell into deep thought. “In the end, I couldn’t even tell them...” He frowned deeply.

Ortho fell quiet, computing. Idia stared at the table, dejected, until Ortho spoke. “You know (Name) (lastname) doesn’t back down easily from a challenge.” That’s true. From playing games with Idia to taking down overblots, you weren’t someone who ran away when it mattered. Maybe that’s why Idia liked you - you were like the protagonists in animes, who found a way to make the world their own.

“You shouldn’t make (name) (last name)’s decision for them.” Idia looked up at his brother. Ortho continued, head angling to the side, Idia shook his head dejectedly, “it won’t work-”

“Your lil’ bro is right, y’know,” Cater walked over, shaking his hair out with his guitar slung over his shoulder. “Sry, I overheard you two,” Cater could piece together what happened. He did see you blow up at Idia (although he couldn’t hear you), and after spamming your phone with no reply after you ran out, now he had an idea of what was going on. “Y’know, if you didn’t tell them how you felt, then how could you know you were making the right choice?”

Idia looked down. Ortho piped up, “Cater Diamond is right.” Idia shut his eyes, then stood up, hands tightening into fists. Cater jumped back as Idia’s hair flared up bright blue, and the Ignihyde housewarden headed straight to the exit. Ortho called out, “thank you, Cater Diamond!” and floated after Idia, “Brother! Wait!”

“Lets go, Ortho,” Idia’s golden eyes steeled in determination, “I can fix this.”

—----

A knock on the door jolted you from your reading of Prejudice and Pride.

It was early morning. Somehow, even though it was the weekend and you’d stayed up all night, you still woke up at an ungodly early hour. After being unable to fall asleep (totally not because of Grim’s snoring and sleep-munching) you decided to go to your living room and read. You were sure that you didn’t have a guest coming, so why would…?

You got up and opened the door, expecting Ace or Deuce or something. The annoyed look on your face turned to shock when you saw Idia standing on your porch. In one hand, he held a bouquet of pomegranate-red roses and some flowers you recognized to be asphodel.

You both stared at each other, unwilling to move. “Idia,” you breathed, “why are you here?” Idia shuffled awkwardly, “I wanted to see you.” You crossed your arms, looking around. “Where’s Ortho?” You were sure the little robot boy made his brother come. Otherwise, why would Idia be here? Idia rubbed the back of his neck, “Ortho isn’t here. I… I wanted to see you,” he repeated.

Wordlessly, he thrust the flowers into your arms, and you wrapped your arm around it instinctively. “I- um,” you looked everywhere but Idia, who was staring at the Ramshackle doorway. “Idia,” you cleared your throat, “about what happened-” “Prefect, I… I wanted to apologize.” Your eyes widened, but Idia continued.

“I… I didn’t mean what I said that day.” Idia looked bashful, face turning pink and the ends of his hair turning a deep blush. He kept talking, rambling on and fighting he urge to grab his tablet and let the device speak for him. “I… really like being friends with you.” The words came out quietly from him, and even though he looked like he wanted to sink into his hoodie, Idia didn’t shirk away.

A lump rose in your throat as you didn’t make eye contact with him, instead playing with the flower bouquet, “I like being friends with you too,” you bit your lip, rubbing an asphodel petal, “I like you, Idia.”

Idia’s eyes widened and went rigid. Both his face and his hair went deep pink. Your own eyes widened at the color, and you felt your face grow hot. So that’s what it meant…? Not anger…?Wordlessly, without thinking, you dropped the bouquet. Your body moved on its own, and you flung yourself at Idia, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and squeezing your eyes shut.

Idia staggered back from the momentum with a squeak, but wrapped his arms around your torso with an iron grip. You gripped his hoodie tightly, finally understanding what had gone on for so long. Your cheek was pressed against his, and despite the early morning chill, you both felt warm.

High above, Ortho hovered in the distance over the tree canopies from afar. He zoomed in on you and Idia, and behind his face mask, he beamed. In midair, he did a heart-shaped loop-de-loop in happiness, and hovered back to Ignihyde.

After a few minutes, you leaned back in Idia’s arms, the both of you chuckling in happy disbelief. You looked up and saw a little blue streak leaving a smoke trail of a heart, and laughed to yourself. Idia turned around, seeing his brother above, a soft reminiscent look on his face.

“…guess Ortho was right.”

~END

——-

Fun fact: the beginning is inspired by idia’s school uniform vignette!!!

Me, while writing this: wow Idia and Cater’s dialogue are unique, they’d be hard to write

Also me: *puts both of them in this fic and suffers*

Writing Idia was SO HARD but I hope I managed to get him right-ish. Trying to balance his reactions with the dialogue was hard 😭

anyway thanks for reading~ please leave a comment/reblog!! <3

Taglist: @cerisescherries, @eclecticprincecollector, @ars-tral, @thehollowwriter, @twst-eeps, @casperandcats, @ttokkisbee, @mitsuriswaifu, @parad-ice-lostandfound, @sad-sie, @moyo5653

(If your user is in bold, I wasn’t able to tag you properly)

[cleolinda]

(For our purposes, listen to it without the visuals first.)

I wasn't going to keep posting about Unreal Unearth, but something happened yesterday.

It's been five months since I first heard this song, and I'm still astonished by it. You know the tiktok skit about the Star Wars wedding music, and the guy is grooving along until the Imperial Death March filters in, and then he's kind of alarmed, like, wha—? And then he realizes it slaps anyway and he keeps dancing? That is "Eat Your Young."

It's the morning of March 17th. The EP with the first three singles from the new album has dropped. I've got my phone blasting the song on the bathroom counter, I don't understand half what the man is saying nor did I expect to, I'm cheerfully mumbling along in the shower, grooving along,

wait they did what for a war drum

Get some Pull up the ladder when the flood comes Throw enough rope until the legs have swung Seven new ways that you can eat your young Come and get some Skinning the children for a war drum Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns It's quicker and easier to eat your young

What the fuck, this song goes so hard. That's the chorus. The conceit of the whole album is that it loosely follows Dante's Inferno, so this is the third circle of hell, gluttony. Hozier himself says that he wasn't specifically thinking of Jonathan Swift's A Modest Proposal—

“I don’t know how intentional the reference to Jonathan Swift was in this. That essay [Swift’s 1729 satirical essay A Modest Proposal in which he suggests the Irish poor sell their children as food] is such a cultural landmark that it’s just hanging in the air. I was more reflecting on what I felt now in this spirit of the times of perpetual short-term gain and a long-term blindness. The increasing levels of precarious living, poverty, job insecurity, rental crisis, property crisis, climate crisis, and a generation that’s inheriting all of that and one generation that’s enjoyed the spoils of it. The lyrics are direct, but the voice is playful. There’s this unreliable narrator who relishes in this thing which was fun to write.” [Apple Music album notes]

—and I believe him. The song's not a suggestion, a proposal; it's an invitation to atrocity in progress. I also believe he probably wasn't thinking of Greta Thunberg's iconic speech at the UN Climate Action Summit, not specifically, but that's what I hear in the song, like the flip side of a coin:

You have stolen my dreams and my childhood with your empty words. And yet I'm one of the lucky ones. People are suffering. People are dying. Entire ecosystems are collapsing. We are in the beginning of a mass extinction, and all you can talk about is money and fairy tales of eternal economic growth. How dare you! [...] You say you hear us and that you understand the urgency. But no matter how sad and angry I am, I do not want to believe that. Because if you really understood the situation and still kept on failing to act, then you would be evil.

I feel like on some level, even coincidentally, "Eat Your Young" is the answer to the question, what would you sound like if you were that evil? Who would you be? I can think of a dozen possibilities just off the top of my head or looking around my blog, from something as petty as studio executives mangling trees to deprive striking workers of shade (while hoping they lose their homes), all the way up to the US school-to-prison pipeline. The National Rifle Association keeps politicians in its pocket while the US has more mass shootings than days in a year, Nestlé fucks shit up around the world as a way of life, even ChatGPT sucks up water while threatening jobs—and for what? And yet, I promise you most of these things weren't the inspiration for an Irishman’s song—some of them hadn't even happened yet. There's just that much fresh You Would Be Evil to go around. I am certain that Hozier wrote the song partly about (as one article puts it) "Ireland's housing crisis: Millennials, a generation sacrificed," given that time back in the day when he helped occupy a building—a housing crisis happening in multiple countries. There's so much of the world I'm not touching on. I can stuff a paragraph with links and it's utterly inadequate.

I haven't even mentioned war.

There's an overwhelming sense this decade of the future being fed into a meat grinder. That sense is in this song. What would it sound like to be in the head of someone who didn't give a shit about anything but profit? Well, it might sound like this.

And if you haven't heard it, well—I'm going to sound absolutely out of my mind after saying all that, but "Eat Your Young" has a beat and you can dance to it. It's sexy. And I'm certain that's on purpose. You get seduced into the sound of it, as if by something demonic, something that enjoys sucking down the future and is not going to stop. And the sheer fucking catchiness of the song keeps you listening to it—thinking about it—when maybe you push away the dry headlines we get everyday. If you let this song stay in your head, it becomes a lens. Five months later, I still think about it when I read the news. Maui was on fire and tourists stayed. Within days, the prospect of developers swooping in to buy up land reared its head. If there's something still to take, there is ground to break, whatever's still to come. Get some.

I was born in 1978 —I'm late Gen X. In my forties, I'm young enough to worry about the future still; I’m neither so rich that I can just plan to retire to Mars, nor so old that I can know I'll be safely gone before the world might go up in flames. But I'm also not my nephew, whose school year just started back up, or the neighborhood kids who race him home down the sidewalk in the afternoons. Yesterday, he had his very first mass-shooter lockdown drill. He’s six.

I think music can put the feeling back into numb fingers, and I think that's why "Eat Your Young" works so well—Hozier calls the song fun and playful, and I think you have to have that, something you can live with rather than just switch off for your own mental survival. We need music to feed spirit at protests; we need something to keep our feet moving. Don’t give up, don't close your eyes and slip away. Those kids, they have dreams we could try to steal back for them.

Since I mentioned Maui:

Why Hawaiian sovereignty has undeniable context for the Maui fires

The Climate Crisis and Colonialism Destroyed My Maui Home. Where We Must Go From Here

How You Can Donate and Help Support Maui Communities Right Now

The Maui Strong Fund

[soobsim]

I have a request for you could you maybe write a ff about Taehyun and Female reader being close friends but somehow end up having sx together

(i tried i hope u like it?)

[DISCLAIMER: nsfw – minors dni, taehyun x fem!reader, petnames, fingering and oral (f. receiving) if you squint, couch sex]

you were always unsure about what was going on between you and taehyun. yes, you both are friends. really close friends. because right now, he has your back pressed against his chest and one of his hands playing with the hem of your hoodie, spooning you on the couch while you guys watch some show on the tv.

his other hand supports his head up so he can look at the screen, not like he is paying attention to it. he can't. not when your clothed ass is pressed against his growing boner under his sweatpants. he doesn't know either, what you two really are. all he knows is that he likes to have his hands on you. like this. all to himself.

you try to focus on the show playing on the tv but then again, taehyun's hand slowly slips under your hoodie and his fingertips caress your waist. you fight every single cell in your body to hold back from making any noise because, god, does his touch feel amazing?

meanwhile, taehyun just can't contain himself. he can't stand the tension and heat between you two anymore. and the silence only gives him more space for his thoughts. thoughts about fucking you, under him.

so with much hesitation, he leans into your neck and presses his lips on the side of your neck. your breathe hitches before it gets heavy but you dont stop him. and that is enough signal for him to dart his tongue out and give your skin a soft suck.

your eyes widen slightly and you can't stop the little whimper you let out. taehyun grins against your neck, getting bolder and squeezing your bare waist. "taehyun..." you manage to say in a shaky voice.

you knew there was definitely more than just friendship between you two. because you didn't feel this tension with your other friends. and taehyun's actions just prove that you aren't the only one who senses it.

taehyun hums against your neck, feeling himself get hard when you squirm. you can feel his boner against your heat, making you sigh in arousal. he wants this. you want this. theres no point in holding anything back.

it takes a very quick moment for taehyun to turn you towards him. you'll both probably regret it later, but right now, you choose your desire for each other to get the better of you two. he sits up and straddles you between his thighs. and you let him.

now you're just where he wanted you, under him. he stares down at you and then his boner, "look at what you've done." he mumbles, his own voice is heavy and breathy.

you bite your bottom lip, chuckling and looking at him eagerly, "i can help fix it.." you say in a suggestive tone, eyes trailing over his built physique before going back to his face.

he leans down and hovers above you, trapping you between his muscular arms. he stares into your eyes intently before he connects your lips in a heated kiss. the pit of your stomach bubbles in excitement, holding the back of his neck as you deepen the kiss, pulling him closer.

its almost unreal that this happening. you're making out with one of your closest friends, and he's initiating it. this was supposed to be a sleepover. not a battle of your tongues. you let out a soft moan inside his mouth when taehyun slips his hands under your hoodie, lifting it. he breaks the kiss and sits up, "raise your hands for me." he says as he starts to lift your hoodie.

you swallow thickly and listen to him, letting him pull it off your head and leaving you in just your bra and pj shorts. your chest heaves as he takes in your bare skin, licking his lips. "fucking gorgeous.." he breathes out and throws your hoodie somewhere. he takes off his own tshirt and lets it falls on the floor before he's hovering over your face again.

your eyes travel all over his body and so do your hands. your hands feel his smooth skin from his bare chest to his chiseled abs. "i always knew you had the body." you chuckle and watch him smirk, obviously proud of his workout sessions.

the sounds from the tv are muffled at this point and all you can think of is having taehyun's cock inside you. he kisses you again, tongue rolling right inside your mouth and exploring the warmth. his hands reach for your shorts, slowly pulling them down. you gasp, feeling a shiver go down your spine when his fingers rub against your clit, through your panties

"can i fuck you? please?" he whispers into your ear as he parts from the kiss. your cheeks heat up at how straight to the point he is, but thats not a compalint. his kisses start moving towards your jaw, not forgetting to use his tongue, ofcourse. you breathe out heavily, closing you eyes and resting your head on the couch.

"do you really have to ask after all that?" you ask, pursing your lips when his fingers stop. he tugs on the waistband of your underwear and rolls it down, past your knees. his lips move from your jaw to your neck, then your chest. but he doesn't halt anywhere really, he keeps moving lower till his head is between your thighs.

you raise your head to watch him, your lips parted and eyes lidded. you love this sight a little too much and you definitely wanna see it, more often. "you're so wet." he chuckles, two of his fingers spreading your folds and teasing you. you moan and your head falls back again with your brows knitted together in pleasure.

taehyun bends down, looking at you through his lashes as he flattens his tongue and presses it over your clit. he simultaneously pushes a finger inside your pussy which makes you errupt another loud moan. but he doesn't do much, not enough to make you cum just by fingering you and teasing you with his tongue. he keeps his fingers slow, only to focus on stretching your insides. but it feels like heaven. his two slender fingers pumping in and out, his tongue giving your clit kitten licks. he's enjoying it too much, and so are you.

once taehyun is satisfied with the prep, he straightens his back and pulls down his sweatpants along with his boxers. your eyes trail towards his throbbing dick and, lord save you, he's big.

he crawls back up to your eye level, "you sure about this?" he asks as he looks for any signs of doubt on your face. as much as he wants to slam his dick inside your hole right now, he would hate to bring you discomfort. you're his friend after all.

"are you serious? taehyun, just fuck me." you scoff, already worked up after all that foreplay and prep. taehyun chuckles before he spits on his hand and gives himself a few strokes. it doesn't take long for him to align his cock against your pussy and slide in, slowly.

both of you let out lewd noises as taehyun pushes inside your folds. "fuck..you feel so good. so tight, baby." he moans, trying to hold himself up on his elbows. you wrap your legs around his hips and feel your walls stretch for him to move.

the pleasure gushes through your veins and makes you almost breatheless when he pulls out and thrusts back in. the feeling of his length brushing against your insides is sensational. your fingers reach his hair, tightly gripping onto them as taehyun starts thrusting into you.

taehyun doesn't let you adjust long enough before his thrusts become ruthless and rushed. you whine his name, your fingers digging into his scalp and pulling him into a kiss. the kiss is messy, considering how hard he is ramming into you, causing your body to move up with every grind. but he holds you in place by gripping your hips.

the living room fills up with sounds of your moans and grunts, and skin slapping roughly. your fingers travel to taehyun's shoulders, clawing on his traps as you throw your head back, "f-faster..please, faster." you whine and buck your hips to match his thrusts.

taehyun groans and obeys, speeding his hips and abusing your hole repeatedly. your walls clench around him when the tip of his cock rubs your sensitive spot and you almost scream from the overwhelming pleasure, "fuck, right there, hyunnie." you moan, eyes rolling back and falling shut as you feel your stomach tighten.

"yeah? like that?" he whispers in your ear, aiming for the spot over and over again. he leaves several kisses over your neck and chest but after a few more hard thrusts, they turn uneven and sloppy. "i..i'm close." he pants, his eyes shutting and forehead resting against yours.

"myeah..me too, baby, don't stop." you groan and tighten your legs around his waist. and soon enough, you cum over his dick, moaning a chain of curse words. once you finish, he pulls out to release his own seed on the couch, breathing heavily.

you both stay silent for a bit, just catching your breathe with your foreheads pressed together. "we're not done." taehyun whispers as he opens his eyes. he sits up and pulls you onto his lap, smirking mischievously, "ride for me, baby."

[aqours]

do you think ashley and andrew would have kids

(pre-emptive mentions for abortion and child abuse)

i've talked about this extensively with a friend and i'm very excited i can share this now actually!!! please let me answer this with basically a mini fanfic summary

two actually. it's incredibly fucked up lmao. ashley gets pregnant and her response is IMMEDIATLY oh yeah no fuck that i'm getting an abortion but because of all the demonic satanic shit that fetus has literally been influenced by otherworldly energy and it just doesn't take. like literally not. ashley goes to get an abortion and by the end the abortionist is dead, starts heavily drinking, at one point she just pays a guy to punch her as hard as he can in the stomach a few times but it doesn't work so anyways that's how their first kid is born! ashley fucking hates them and makes that clear every day of that probably future anti-christ's life. she pushes him down the stairs at one point and he's just in the couch unharmed afterwards, abandons him in the middle of nowhere on the interstate and when she gets home there he is watching tv. she just groans and just accepts this is life now and any attempt to get rid of this kid is gonna be thwarted by demonic looney toons bullshit.

she hates the fact this kid gets in the way of her time with her brother SO MUCH its unreal and probably tried using him as a tar soul for a demon offering once but it didn't work since he's also partially demon (she had a backup guy just in case though). at one point though he asks "hey can you make me a little brother or sister" and her response is "i fucking hate having you why the FUCK would i have a second one" to which he's like "if i have someone to play with i'll stop bothering you as much-" and that's when ashley stops taking birth control without telling andrew

she actually treats her daughter MUCH better because not only did she plan this one but she tries to spoil her to one-up mommy too. she tries to spoil her daughter just so she can one-up her mom's memory of being a shitty parent to her by heavily favoring her second-born instead. like if the first kid asked if she could drive them to the candy store her response would be "fuck off and die." her daughter does though? well she doesn't drive her but she does go "awww sorry kid, gonna go on a date with your dad soon- but here's an extra $20 if you wanna go walk, get yourself something nice ok?" her daughter is three things: yet another way to tether andy, a way to make her first kid shut up, and perhaps most importantly to her a way to one-up her mom's spirit in hell

andrew DOES try to be a good dad especially in the routes where he's more assertive but he still sucks shit lmao. it's pretty obvious he's also not equipped for this emotionally or mentally and his co-dependence with his sister takes priority over all. they both THINK they're better parents than mr. and mrs. graves but the apple failed to fall far from the tree it's just another awful generation of this family who themselves will probably just continue to perpetuate poison forever

tl;dr: yes they do and its awful. poison simply produces more poison in the end

[absolutely-not-my-main-blog]

Was thinking about Dennis coming home after North Dakota, and thinking about what if Mandy knows, what if Mandy is the only one who knows? I mean really knows like not just deeply suspects from all the skirting around, but what if Mandy is the only one Dennis was able to open up with/admit his real feelings about Mac to or even less specifically about anything to, because she’s not entrenched in everything the gang is, she’s from such a different world that on some level she’s got this sense of unrealness about her to Dennis, one that lets him feel like in contrast he can be more real himself to make up for that, because who else is gonna know?

Then was thinking about how each time when Dennis is away from the gang, as this unrealness seems to persist, he tends to let his guard down, be more vulnerable, more unsure, he slips into different roles, as if trying to figure himself out for the first time, figure out who he is outside the gang and everything its history entails, but what if when in ND, after everything with Mac, he did figure himself out, and maybe being with Mandy helps him see that and it’s hard for her not to see it too, see how he doesn’t belong there/can’t belong there, so she lets him go, but he was already too deep in the role, like a method actor gone too far, and now that he’s back, now that he’s not in that particular role but can’t exactly just happily return to his old role in the gang either, he’s trying to reconcile every role he’s ever had/created for himself within him throughout the years and cycle through them, trying desperately to see if any still fit, peeling away all the layers and masks he’s tried to get other people to see him as, (cold/emotionless, killer, womanizer, god, etc.)—all roles he’s also tried to see himself as so as to reason away and not face his traumas head on—until finally laid bare underneath is the real Dennis, the one he’s been keeping hidden for so long except in little glimpses when his grip on control slipped, the one that is sensitive and terrified and feels too much and too little, and doesn’t always understand why, the one who loves his friends, loves Mac, and just wants that in return, the one who’s been playing so many different roles for so long he’s almost forgotten what it’s like not to play one.

Like, the Dennis we start to see as the seasons go on is not Dennis the person, it’s Dennis the character, the one he’s created for himself and others have inadvertently created for him, the “I just wanted to live up to everyone’s expectations of me” result of his mother instilling this burning necessity to be this perfect golden boy in him, his father never letting him be emotionally open/trying to toughen him up by making sure he always expects the worst and just has to suck it up, Mrs. Klinksy forcing him to recontextualize his assault as more of a conquest of something he wanted on his part rather than what it was, etc, etc, so he becomes a golden god, he becomes a hardened shell that doesn’t let his feelings get to him, he becomes the guy who controls the women and never lets them control him because they’ve convinced him this is who he is, who he’s always been, right? *wavering* Right? And he tries so hard to convince everyone else, digging himself deeper and deeper into this persona no matter how ill fitting, (going further into the wall), letting this flanderization of anger and rage and emptiness and a scary, almost dangerous edge overtake him until even the one person who’s supposed to see the real him (because I know you, man) starts to fall for the mask, too. And he realizes he doesn’t want to play this role anymore, he never did, but the mask is stuck... the mask is stuck and no one even knows he’s wearing it.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #229

Where do you see your ex in 5 years? I am not comfortable answering this for any ex. I don't know these people anymore, and people change. I shouldn't be theorizing about their futures.

Does your last ex have a job? I don't know.

Would you be interested in starting your own business? I want to be a freelance photographer, so...

Do you find guys with facial piercings attractive? I tend to find piercings attractive, but this doesn't guarantee that I'm going to be attracted to a pierced man.

Have you ever gone snorkeling or scuba diving? If yes, what’s the coolest thing you’ve seen? No.

What’s your favorite filling in chocolates? More chocolate, peanut butter, or caramel.

What, in your opinion, is the most disgusting part of the human body? I actually hate how genitals look, either kind.

Do you have slim or chubby fingers? Slim. It's about the only slim thing about me.

Have you done anything lately that you instantly felt was a mistake? Uh, maybe? But not of importance large enough for me to actually remember it.

Pencils: mechanical or traditional? Mechanical for sure.

Are you into anyone right now? Tell me about them? Use this space to say something to them. Well, Girt, obviously. I feel like I talk about him enough for readers to have a general gist of him, he's insanely introverted but loyal as FUCK to people he values, and he's the funniest fucking person I've ever met. He's my best friend in the world and I hope he never doubts how much I value him as not just a boyfriend, but friend.

Do you cook and/or bake? What is your specialty? I don't. It's funny though, I recently got into a chef's YouTube channel and also like another, and I like watching their stuff, even though I'm not interested in cooking or baking myself. I WISH I was.

Have you ever felt trapped in a relationship? A friendship, yes. That's how I felt towards the end of Sara's and my friendship. Like, we'd split apart so many times, I didn't wanna fucking do it again. It never went well.

Are you attracted to any nationality more than others? Nope.

Do feet creep you out? They don't creep me out, I just don't like them and think they're gross.

Do you have a sexual fantasy? What is it? yeah I'm not sharing that stuff lmfao

Do you like the band Satyricon? I've never heard this name in my life.

Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when its hot in your room? I CAN'T sleep if I'm hot. I literally have two fans in my room.

What is your favorite thing to do with your best friend? Chatting/being silly together and playing video games.

Are you easily offended? No. Few things actually offend me.

Have you ever acted as tour guide for friends/relatives from out of town? lol no, this place sucks and there's nothing TO show, there's no need.

Do you feel bored with your life? YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am agonizingly bored by my fucking life, I could rant about this for hours, it's unreal how bored I am by the life I exist in.

What's the most weight you've ever gained from a medication? Like, 100 pounds. I wish I was fucking kidding. Thanks, Abilify <3

How old were you the first time you encountered God? The concept of "God" was forced on me from birth (literally, I was baptized), sooooo... I guess you can't truly "encounter" something that you finally understand doesn't exist, though.

Are you married? No.

What was the best date you've ever been on? A double-date to an arcade.

Do you feel free to post how you feel on Facebook? I very rarely post about my personal life because I feel like no one cares and I'm just being annoying. I just share memes n shit.

Which stereotype do you fit the most? Geek and goth at heart, I guess. I don't really dress it though, I'm too lazy and poor for that.

Who were your favorite celebrities as a child? Steve Irwin and Jeff Corwin.

Did you go to prom? I went to two: his senior and my senior.

If you could rewind time ten years, would you? No.

What is the last song you played on repeat? fuckin "Diggy Diggy Hole" by Wind Rose lmfao

Do you own a CD player? Not anymore.

Do you think you could handle a job in the medical field? Why or why not? No. It would depress me, more than anything.

Would you rather edit photos on your phone or computer? Computer. I have Lightroom on both devices, but computer is easier and more precise with the mouse.

What is one electronic device you own that you have not used in a long time? Nintendo DS.

When was the last time you wore a dress or a skirt? Not since a Halloween photoshoot I did with my friend.

What is your favorite thing about Instagram? I dunno, really. I just enjoy it. I do feel like I'm less likely to see shit I don't want to, like dumbfuck right-wing shit I didn't ask for on Facebook.

What is the first thing you think of when you see the rainbow emoji? 🌈? the gays stealing the rainbow from god ✌️

Do you prefer to play chess or checkers? Checkers, idk how to play chess.

If you had to go an entire week without using any technology, what do you think you would spend most of your time doing instead? Reading, sleeping, writing, drawing. I'd be miserable, though.

Would you rather travel to Asia or France? Somewhere in Asia.

Did you have a New Year’s kiss? No, we weren't in each other's presence that night. You'd be hard-pressed to find a night I stay up 'til midnight anyway.

Are there any words that you cannot pronounce or that you pronounce incorrectly? I say "breakfast" funny. I put a "t" after the "k" and I can't fix it.

How much older than you was the oldest person you have dated/had a relationship with? Juan was somewhere around five years older than me, give or take a year. It was problematic though because of my age.

Have you recently accomplished anything that you are proud of yourself for? I am very proud of myself for making the conscious decision to really start changing how I think and treat myself. It hasn't been "meh I'll try," I'm DOING it.

Are you still friends with any of your exes? Do you still communicate with any of them at all? Nope, nope.

What is your opinion on people who shop at Sephora for makeup as opposed to buying makeup from the drugstore? I don't give a shit????????????

Is marijuana legal for “recreational use” where you live? Also what is your opinion on the recent legalization of marijuana in certain states? It is not legal, but my psychiatrist shared that it's looking like NC will make it legal in the foreseeable future (Mom shared we really want to try edibles for me). I wish it was legal everywhere.

Do you live on your own or with your parents/a roommate? Do you think you’d like to live alone? I still live with my mother. I NEVER want to live alone, I would be FUCK-ING miserable. My depression and isolatory behaviors would eat me alive.

How often would you say you use Microsoft Word? Never, I use WordPad. You have to pay for Microsoft Word.

After doing your laundry do you leave it in your basket for a couple days, then put it away? Ugh it can stay in the basket for days upon days upon days.

When you do a puzzle do you find all the edges first? Of course, unless I incidentally find a match of interior pieces.

When you’re in the car and you eat something with a wrapper, do you throw the wrapper out of the window? Do this and I wish you death

List 5 things that have happened in the last 7 days. (They can be anything at all, anything that’s happened involving you, or your family, friends, partner.) 1.) I've been playing the remake of Resident Evil 4 2.) My younger sister got a dog 3.) I went to Girt's house 4.) I finished another book in the Warriors series 5.) I drew!!!!

If you found out your ex had a new partner, would you be upset? There is no ex where I would care if they had a new partner.

Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom? I've done sexual things we shouldn't have done in someone else's bedroom.

Have you ever had sex on your bedroom floor? How about your living room floor? Again, just sexual things. But not since I was a teenager, you could NOT lure my fat and achy ass onto the floor anymore lmfao

When you kiss someone, do you like to play with their hair? I do it, so I suppose yes.

Why did you hug the last person you hugged? The kids were leaving.

Do you regret sleeping with anyone? No.

Did anyone comfort you the last time you cried? What was your reason for crying? My mom, yes. I've just been stressed out and dealing with anxiety issues.

What if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? I’d get an abortion, we can't be doing that.

Is there anyone that likes you, other than the person you love/like/are with? I doubt it.

Who is the 9th contact in your phone? Have you ever hugged/kissed that person? That's my little sister, I've certainly hugged her and maybe kissed her cheek when we were younger.

How did you feel when you woke up today? What was the first thing you thought about? I was annoyed, the kids came in being loud and I hadn't slept very well. Pretty sure I cursed lmao.

Do you still tell your parents that you love them? Of course.

Random fact about the person you love/like? He's back in college for business management-type stuff. I always forget the exact name of his major. He's VERY nearly done, he just had to drop out when his dad died.

[barbietoiles]

Well if it was swimming with a raft "nager avec un radeau" is totally correct, just not that common mdrrrrr

Yeah our words are weird like who decided that a banana would be "UNE banane"??? My take is that you just learn the pronouns of the words by living your life and earring people talk about these words, but there is no logic to just guess if it's "un" or "une" 😭

In school students often laugh saying that to guess a Spanish word, you have to take a French one and add "o" or "a" at the end (so students often make up words if they don't know the translation lmao)

But for us it's also much more difficult than in English for the gender neutral pronoun ; since in English everything is genderless, you can say "they are tired"

In French, you would say,

for a masculine pronoun : il est fatigué

for a feminine pronoun : elle est fatiguée

so for a gender neutral pronoun : iel est fatigué.e

it's called "inclusive writing"! As you can guess old people and far-right ppl are totally against, saying it's denaturing our language and bla bla bla but in fact, my teachers use it a lot in email to address a big group of students and include everyone like " à tous les étudiant.e.s". Bc we have a dumb rule that we learn in primary school that "masculine win over feminine" (le masculin l'emporte sur le féminin) meaning that if you have 10 girls and only 1 guy, you still have to say "ils" in plural. So with that it's easier to include everyone in written form !

And yep I never really watch multigaming before twitch tbh, there are only two men that can makes me watch league of legend, and they are etoiles and kameto (I don't understand a single thing 🫠)

(The space invader does look better on pc, he even has small codes to help him jump!)

-👾

No logic to it.... i see i see.... you live and you learn.... pain. I must listen to etoiles and baghera well!

The "take a french word and make it spanish" is hilarious and also quite cute kkkk. Its like my sister, who makes english words by saying latvian words in an english accent. And ALSO!! I KNEW IT i mentioned to an irl friend that im learning french and that learning spanish beforehand helped a lot because theyre similar and they said "french and spanish are nowhere near similar". SUCK IT BABY, i know what im talking about!!

The inclusive language looks a bit silly with the full stop lol but i think its clever. -é.e. i can choose to be �� or e or . , very nice kkkkk. But yeah, old folks will complain about anything, the pissiness of latvian folks when a "no gender" bathroom is mentioned can be UNREAL (though usualy all the angry people are on the internet loll). Cant imagine how it would be if we tried doing inclusive language lol. (Or maybe we could just do a "oh its like russians ono dont worry about it" reasoning lol)

The "male over female" is a whole rule??? Oh my D: its usual to have the masc form be kind of considered "default", but thats crazy..... We use the "viņ(š)(a)" writing very often in emails and documents, its not considered progressive at all because its what we were always using pretty much? But the masc word always comes first. And ive noticed a phenomenon of masc even being considered "gender neutral", because to kind of neutrally address someone you COULD address them in the plural form, but problem is we also have gendered plural lol. So usually the masc one is used to kind of make the person "gender neutral". Its hard....

Theres going to be league of legends? Oh no... one friend played it all the time and it looks so boring ;u;..... well, its etoiles i dont care if game is boring i can get distracted by his shitty facecam mdr

(Also, im using mdr now, its so fun. Saying it out loud is good "r" practice kkkkk)

[bravevolunteer]

GET  TO  KNOW  THE  MUN.

WHAT  MADE  YOU  PICK  UP  THE  MUSE  YOU  HAVE  ?   well you see i liked fnaf and its lore a normal amount until one night after security breach boosted the fandom i thought a little bit Too Hard while staring at the ceiling and decided to add michael afton the next day-

IS  THERE  ANYTHING  YOU  DON'T  LIKE  TO  WRITE  ?  aside from the obvious? in spite of writing a marvel character for years straight i also suck at constant action with nothing else going on (aside from figuring out how to phrase it i really struggle knowing how far to go in those kinds of replies without overstepping what the other muse would do if that makes sense), which is great because for as much as michael gets into fights he is Just A Guy. and uh... for michael specifically, given the ambiguity of fnaf, there are some ideas that i'm not on board with because they don't align with how i see the story you know?

IS  THERE  ANYTHING  YOU  REALLY  ENJOY  WRITING  ?   angst and hurt/comfort sorry i am a predictable bitch i'll eat it up every single time. the softness hits harder when it comes with or after excruciating pain

HOW  DO  YOU  COME  UP  WITH  YOUR  HEADCANONS  ?  possession yeah. i can't force them they just occur to me in sudden visions. who said that.

DO  YOU  WRITE  IN  SILENCE  OR  LISTEN  TO  MUSIC  ?   music always i CANNOT write in silence, i barely Exist in silence. usually i'll use a character playlist (stupid amount of michael ones), however if it's overstimulating and makes writing more difficult i'll loop specific songs that set the mood but i can tune out for the most part

DO  YOU  PLAN  YOUR  REPLIES  OR  WING  THEM  ?   somewhere in between? i definitely like to plot things out, ESPECIALLY with michael, however i prefer plotting that leans closer towards discussing overall dynamics or the general vibe/direction of a thread. i will not hesitate to go super in depth there. while i rotate them in my head constantly before i write the reply, i tend not to go too far discussing a Hyper Specific prompt though because then i'll avoid writing it (both because i've already discussed it so much and i end up hyping it up to the point where i've set impossible standards)

DO  YOU  ENJOY  SHIPPING  ?   yes :) all kinds :)

WHAT'S  YOUR  ALIAS/NAME  ?   ash which is just. my name. real nickname. it's not that interesting of a story DKFHFJDS however if i were to start going by an alias online my favorite option has always been atlas

AGE  ?   21

BIRTHDAY  ?  october 17

FAVORITE  COLOR  ?   always changes because something's wrong with me. been a sage green enjoyer lately like the gay person i am ( but most of my clothes are black )

FAVORITE  SONG  ?   soooo many so you're getting my 2023 winners: song was not strong enough boygenius but my favorite Album was unreal unearth

LAST  MOVIE  YOU  WATCHED  ?   humiliatingly enough i. Think it was the fnaf movie ( at 3am on call while going insane ) i don't think i've watched one since then

LAST  SHOW  YOU  WATCHED  ?   oh god my brain hasn't been letting me watch anything new lately but i THINK it was trying to watch infinity train and then giving up because of that lmao. if podcasts count i'm relistening to tma-

LAST  SONG  YOU  LISTENED  TO  ?  ... once more to see you mitski

FAVORITE  SEASON  ?   autumn

DO  YOU  HAVE  A  TUMBLR  BEST  FRIEND  ?   i have so many beloved close friends i've met on tumblr i can't just list ONE

tagged by: @mischiiefs tagging: yea mak you stole a good chunk of the crew just steal it from me idk DHJFSJDF

[tobiastotoby]

Chapter 1: Unlikely Allies

The Mojave Wasteland was unforgiving, its scorching sun and treacherous terrain testing even the most resilient souls. The Courier, known as Six, had navigated the dangerous landscape, forging alliances and facing formidable foes. Among those who had joined forces with Six was Arcade Gannon, a former member of the Followers of the Apocalypse.

Their paths crossed at the Old Mormon Fort in Freeside, Arcades first meeting of the courier was unreal to him. Arcade watched as the beat up 6 stumbled into the fort looking for a doctor to help him. 

“ Please come sit here sir I can help you!” arcade felt himself shouting out, this handsome rugged beat up man. He didn't understand the call that he felt to him, this wasteland was no different from most just a little more handsome. That couldn't have been it, it couldn't have only been how hot he thought this stranger was. His thoughts ran wild as the man sat down.

“Thank fuck finally someone helps me! I thought everyone was just gonna let me bleed all over the place!” Gannon nearly exploded with this gruff voice spoke, like he was walking whiskey. Gannon just couldn't contain himself; he had to say something smooth to this man in seconds of meeting him; he couldn't help but develop a crush on him. 

He hadn't been with anyone in a while.‘What if this goes somewhere?’ He really couldn't stop his mind running with fantasies of this man, what his hands feel like, to be held at night by this man. As he prepped everything to fix him up he asked the normal doctor questions

“What happened to you, and what do you need done? What's your name? And can you please sit still?” Gannon almost felt his voice shake trying to keep himself together.

“OH, so what happened was when i got into freeside is that i was helping the kings with some bounty hunter and they tried to jump us with a tourist trap, also my name is 6, OH, I also got shot in the head a while ago and survived have you seen a checkered suit walking around? He's the guy who got me cause I don't remember anything before that." The rambling was damn near incomprehensible for 6 but Arcade was clearly hooked on everyword.

“Jesus christ, uhm……. I’ll start by patching up your current wounds and give you a round of painkillers. Im Dr Arcade gannon btw well i'm really just a researcher but i can still help you, we’re going to need you to stay overnight yo watch these stitches” gannon couldn't stop imaging them laying together as he said this.

“Stay overnight? Ok fine i can do that but am i sharing a tent with someone. I don't normally share. What if I stay in the hotel, can you come with me? I know they have separate rooms, i’ll pay.” 6’s request almost couldn't be real, the romance novels gannon had scavenged over the years and this only happens in these books. 

“Uhm… i can't let you do that, it's a lot of money” Arcade was kicking himself, hard. 

“well …….. How about you come with me, travel around and help me out, I could use a smart, tall doctor around, you can travel and help people with me, plus looking at you isn't so bad” 6 was trying to be a smooth as possible, he understood how gannon could help him and even if he was more of a researcher it would hurt to have someone smart on his side. Charming as he was he was never really the sharpest tool in the shed so to speak, this could help balance his team out. 

“uhm…..Well if i leave….. And……..” Gannon was looking him back in the eyes, the intensity coming from him he almost felt like he could melt right there, taking a deep breath he thought about it, what really was he doing here as a researcher, all the data he got was often not really what he needed but well mercenaries where his only choice but if he were to go out he might really do something “I'll join you, it could help me do my work, and you’re pretty handsome yourself” Gannon’s voice had almost been sucked out of him. 

“SWEET, this is gonna be sick, the rest of the gang is going to love you, Boone, rex, grandma lily, she's so sweet. We are gonna be unstoppable.” 6 was talking about how excited to show him off to his friends, he could feel that this had to become something.

[lynsburner]

your fics are so amazing!! where do you usually get inspiration from?

Thank you so much! Also, my apologies, because as always, it's time to give an unnecessary, long-ass answer to questions that should take a second to respond to.

So, this is threefold.

One: I love me a rom-com. I love two people who should be together finally find their way to each other. Some of my favorites are What If? (also called The F Word in some places) which to me is friends to lovers excellence, and there's a scene where they turn the "grand gesture" trope on its head that I LOVE, About Time (and the message of living every day to the fullest), and I really did like Plus One, which is another great friends to lovers time. Also, as we know, I am a sucker for Practical Magic. I just like writing stories like these lol

Two: .... don't hate me for this, but spite/determination LMAO. There were fics that I wanted to see/read but couldn't seem to find them... so I wrote them myself!

I didn't really get into reading/writing self-insert until a few years ago, and even then, I was mostly reading the silly/Wattpad-level bad ones with friends as a joke. But, like most things I do, it went from being ironic to unironic really quickly and I thought to myself, "Hey, if these people can do this, so can I!" Most of these stories lived on my notes app and I exchanged them with a single friend. The more (once I realized who and who wouldn't judge me for writing these) friends who saw them encouraged me to publish them. And now I have this burner account lol.

So, long story short: there are just things I wanted to read and I thought "Well, if no one else will... guess I'll have to step up to the plate. "

Not that I think I'm writing anything revolutionary. This is my burner account self-insert blog. My name isn't really Lyn. This is my little secret aka my commitment to the bit is truly... unmatched.

And three: My first ever published fic from this account was inspired by a genuine long-distance relationship I was in at the time (he was also just as tall, and had long hair, but from a neighboring country lol) and being frustrated I couldn't meet them because of the pandemic. So I kind of channeled that want (and even some of the moments we had shared) in there.

The second one in that series was inspired by more real-life experience, as well as a shit ton of tik-toks of plus-size women having shared their experience of more conventionally attractive people trying to flirt with their significant others in front of them. I really wanted to attempt to subvert expectations with that one and say while it might feel good in the moment, constantly being overlooked because of the body you lived in fucking SUCKS.

The third in that series literally came together in a week of just an idea I had that was just like... yeah this relationship is hard... and no one's perfect.. but love, man! I also just desperately needed a vacation IRL lol Plus, a lovely anon kept messaging me about that series and I had the urge to revisit it.

With the most recent one, that angst was actually scrapped dialogue from the third in that series that I just wanted to explore more? Like that one had the end goal of them getting engaged and I knew if I had them genuinely yelling at each other, that engagement wouldn't be earned. So to a blank slate of a couple it went to! Also, lbr, Unreal Unearth is truly so tragic when it comes to its themes (specifically about love) so I pulled from there a teensy bit.

And, then the chaptered one was fully inspired by that tumblr post that was like "He's a sound guy. Shite Craic. Would not have him round for cans, on my life" where they described Andrew as a dude who only mopes and smokes weed. I just thought it would be very funny to make him a bit of a cynical asshole. Plus, I technically have a film degree, and dreams of becoming a professional screenwriter in me, so writing dialogue is my absolute favorite thing. Love silly banter between two people who just need to kiss already.

Again, so sorry for this being so long, but I am a sucker for an ego-boost-filled deep dive.

[sugar-petals]

[✖︎ sub!Lee Know] › 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚊-𝚣

⇢ PAIRING. lino x femdom!reader 

words. 10k 😈 — every letter has a little scenario 

WARNINGS. ⚠️ rated m/mdni, hard kinks, frottage, protected sex, vibrators, so much ass stuff, rimming, oral with toys (lee know receiving), consensual somnophilia, angst, pegging, fisting, fucking machines, finger sucking, restraints, some bits are vanilla

⇢ ♥︎ NOTE | yesss this characterization was so fascinating to explore. pick what you like, this is sort of a drabble collection if you will. have fun reading! a chan version is on its way, out valentine’s ‘23. 

read it on ao3 | sub!idol masterlist 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Complete pendulum swing every time, especially on days when he wants to be handled a little more roughly. Lee Know either needs to be left dozing under a blanket, breathing hard for a few minutes without any further body contact — or he is more than eager to have you all over him. Rolling through the sheets together in a big embrace, he secretly loves it. When your boyfriend needs silence and thinking time instead, you will know.

It’s important that you don’t interpret it as him sulking `oh, sex wasn’t that great today´. Of course it was. Minho is an all-or-nothing guy in relationships, almost like Hyunjin. He’d never put his lips between your legs if he wasn’t already dead sure you’d have a good time together. He’d never trust you with his body if he didn’t have a clue. And he knows exactly how to distinguish between a good dom and a bad one, trust me.

During aftercare, Minho’s attitude is always something along those lines— `Never worry about me´. Just to be sure: He can talk about mistakes. He doesn’t gloss things over. Hell, he’s Minho. Honesty on two sexy legs. But for the most part, you really can’t go wrong, and his exhaustion speaks of your boyfriend giving his all because it was so good and he wanted to contribute his part. Being a good sweet boy, being vocal, showing with his body how much he enjoys the moment until the sweat starts to run.

If he hated you, he’d not be out of breath. Someone who knows how to conserve energy like Minho, knocked out on the bed, barely knowing where he is and how and who? He’s literally putting all the effort he can come up with into subbing. Even if he’s laying there like a plank after sex and says he doesn’t need you attending to him, and he takes care of himself, the case is clear. Minho is super whipped. He’s an acts of service guy, you’ll know by the way he makes you popcorn after sex.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Doesn’t he have it all. Honey is one perfect allrounder. Cute, sexy, beautiful. A born triple threat. Yes, he knows his big thighs are very great, very juicy right there, and he knows you like them. A glorious sight in black latex pants, I don’t need to tell you. But. But! Recently, Lee Know has developed an appreciation for his side profile and eyes. The gentle lashes, his cute bunny teeth, and the innocent doe-eyed blinks have you feeling some type of way. He thinks that’s romantic of you. He will screenshot these texts of you peppering him with compliments. Minho is all gooey on the inside hearing praise and getting face kisses. He almost goes insane from his own shyness. Those glowing cheeks, oh my word.

Also. Let’s talk about his body height. This guy. A literal dynastic prince. The finest man on the block. This hot boy summer exemplary. A thank you to his parents is due. You truly got yourself one of the smoothest and most interesting short kings out there. Look at him, his unreal proportions. The way he moves. His way of angling his head. The sexy squint that says look how hot I am. He has such a good outline. Even if he refuses a compliment out of part politeness, part disbelief, you continue telling him he’s body goals. The NSFW route does get to his brain, though. You making innuendos turns the whole thing a little more heated and makes him understand why you thirst over him. And no need to censor yourself. Minho likes dirty humor, you can say anything you want.

What he doesn’t like as much about himself, the dark circles under his eyes. You are a little on the fence here. To some extent, it’s something natural — you would not like his face any other way. Lee Know is Lee Know. Bags under his eyes are part of him, who doesn’t like his eye smile. But he should also sleep and not practice choreographies he can already dance perfectly, for goodness sake. Lee Know will only fall asleep when he’s in contact with your body, which prompts you to often tell him to just lay his head down onto your boobs. Or better, right in between. Nothing better than Lee Know’s face plus your breasts in any position. You love that contact. He says oh, wait, isn’t this rude, isn’t that too heavy? You say no, and you have the lightest lil’ head in history, put your face here whenever, it’s good. There we go, he falls asleep.

And the reverse? Lee Know is consumed by your appearance and said sorry for being superficial a thousand times. He’s infatuated with every feature. Are you a goddess? In an already hyper-affectionate group, you literally picked the guy who is most easily smitten. Listen, his favorite song is „10 Points out of 10“ by 2 PM. The lyrics are literally about a young man being dumbfounded because he thinks this girl he likes is so attractive. Let me cite the chorus to remind everyone. „Her lips are tasty, her legs are gorgeous, her waving hair, everything from head to toe.“ That sums it up pretty neatly. He could worship it all. He will stare into space for an hour after seeing you undress for the first time.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Knows the effect of a good diet. Will pursue said diet. Any further questions?

As far as playing with your cum goes — Come on. He’s gonna slurp you up like a bowl of ramen. You’re gonna bury your fist in his soft blonde hair and just. Live the moment and sweat it out. Minho is a hundred percent swallower.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Likes getting his hair pulled. Not too much, not too violently, in all directions, out of nowhere — he’s uncomfortable with that. His name is not Hwang Hyunjin. It needs to be the right amount of controlled tugging rather than ripping. He wants to be a baddie, not a baldie. One letter difference, big ramifications.

In other words: Minho likes it firm, but not entirely abrasive. The type of pulling that tilts his head back so you can lick across his neck. Lee Know gets such a visceral reaction from that and almost squeals out loud. Which is so unlike him, but it tells you he’s been keeping a sweet spot secret from you. No wonder, he’s so overwhelmingly sensitive there.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

If he’s honest. Minho feels like he’s been sort of like an aimless playball. Tossed around by random people who thought he was worth one lay out of a brief curiosity. They thought he looked good, sure, but had a character that was too hard to decipher and access. To them, despite his tough personality, he still wasn’t `manly´ enough to really crush on him, or be their sovereign rock in a relationship. You’re telling him that how manly someone is virtually has nothing to do with reliability, but it’s not difficult to tell that Minho is on the fence about superficial approaches.

For many secret meet-ups, he wasn’t that interesting besides some `surface talents´ he had, as one person put it. He’d been tricked thinking it could become serious every time and got back up again, only to be left in the mornings the next weekend. Which dismantled an already unsure self-esteem and, in turn, fueled a bitter, biting drive to do better and better with his dates or hook-ups to get any real value and love out of them.

Overdoing it lead to more rejections, and alcohol did the rest. In the end, it wasn’t even like ‚okay let me shoot it into the condom and go‘ anymore, he actually couldn’t get it up anymore. Personal affection, personal attention, he didn’t even know how that even felt back then. Things have been terrible for Minho, and he didn’t `know what he’s doing´, at all. Searching through half of Seoul has been detrimental to his health and energy. He doesn’t consider it a redeemable experience but a chain of constant mistakes he’s responsible for and feels utterly dumb. Sleeping around a lot was not really as pleasure-chasing or an easy release as others made it sound like. It was difficult and confusing and strange. Because he cringes at so many memories, Minho doesn’t really feel like he got to know things or anything.

After the worst blitz breakup and a double instance of being cheated on, Minho even considered seeing prostitutes to alleviate whatever yearning it was that was coming up. Or, he didn’t even know, to have at least /someone/ in his arms who he knew would not do things he didn’t want. He thought, the feelings would be in control, the time they spend was in control, money determined the deal, and he could always come back to see her — hopefully.

He imagined the lust and dripping pleasure of having several hot, horny girls swap him around for a ride to leave him a sweaty drugged-up mess on his back, somewhere on a big pink sofa in a big private room. But when he actually went up to a greyed nighttime shop in a hidden district and saw the shifting faces behind the windows, their unstable gazes exchanged without emotion, he felt a knot churning in his belly because the sight burst his bubble.

Reality was far from his inner image. Nobody was waiting for only him. The door personnel said, he can’t choose the girl, wait in line, have your cash ready, then get in the ratty showers there. Compared to what he expected, it was like the scenes of a novel that could never be as distinct and beautiful in real life. It was just bland, awkward and fleeting. Because these girls were so similar to him at that moment when he stood there in his parka. Anxious and freezing in their bones, miserable and defensive in their poses mirrored through the glass. The last people who could give him a sincere deep hug or blush about Minho coming back after they saw fifty other clients to survive off the little cut they received. He’d only contribute a speck of dust from his trainee salary to these girls. They wouldn’t even know his name and stay locked in there to stand still for the next customer the exact same way. Lee Know’s conscience said that this could not possibly fix his feelings or be the perfect bounce-back.

Sleeping with them out of pity seemed like an oddly heroic act to go for, but still, weird. They looked perfect, sexy, amazing, but without an ounce of life radiating from their lips — even the pregnant girls that the shop offered. They would dance their dance how Lee Know wanted it for a dime, only for the pimp to indifferently kick him out into the cold after a strictly set time. That prospect made him turn on his heel in fear. If he had extra wishes, it would get more than expensive and even stricter, with ways to hook him for years in this cycle.

It would be worse than what he had already gotten himself into with meeting people in shady bars. And even those people, drunk as they were, didn’t seem so particularly excited about Lee Know standing there clueless and choppy in his speech to begin with. Any excitement was fake, it was just liquor. Which was Minho’s deepest concern. Being quite mindlessly replaceable and having no one to really love. He was not as confident as his attitude suggested.

Among several hookups, he tried a fair share of impromptu domination. Which was expected of a guy, after all, unquestioned. It satisfied him during the act and he was a convincing top, but it left Minho a strange type of hollow afterward. He got addicted to rough one-night-stands even if he didn’t like the feeling of the person trodding out the door so awkwardly. Although he wanted permanence, the heat of the moment persuaded him to give in again. And again. Lee Know didn’t research much about dominating nor did he have a philosophy, it was mainly just moves and positions and that was it, but he was never quite sure how he came across and if that was really the right thing.

The price of ‚experience´ was neither increased skill nor extra esteem. The opposite happened, which is why Minho was very disgruntled about people and sitting inside his shell when you kind of scooped him up as a friend. He didn’t consider starting as friends with someone back then, to his disadvantage, which he realized. Minho got to enjoy the slower development of a belonging with you. His hormones are slow as hell but they do last. It’s important to Minho that there’s someone who’s magnetically drawn to his ways and body, even a bit obsessed.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

If vanilla is concerned: Any position that looks good but feels bad is taboo. You both agreed on that. He’s always on the lookout, Minho sticks to the classics. Reverse cowgirl, doggy, logically — same view. Doesn’t just like being the active partner there, though. He’s gonna mewl and cry when you smack it back onto his hips. Since you are horny for seeing his face though, we got a lil’ conflict of interests. That’s why you often have sex in front of a mirror so you can see him pant into your ear, cheek to cheek.

He looks really cute hugging you from behind, and his dick… it’s just amazing how good it feels. Minho’s sheer presence has you dripping anyways, and the nape kisses he gives you are the ultimate turn-ons. He won’t have any problems gliding in. Also. Have anyone observed Lee Know’s habit of just laying down on somebody whenever he gets the chance, waiting for an embrace? Of course he’s the cherry on his top. So missionary is definitely right around the corner for him. Perfect to kiss, he can get his booty moving, his hips, and you again have the vantage point of being one inch away from his godly face. Amazing sensuality.

Now, the world of kink and fetish. Things look a bit different here. Minho being a certified anal slut makes him the perfect candidate for spreading his legs. Supine preferably, because he’s stable on his back and can bend his knees up to his shoulders. It makes him feel so vulnerable and exposed, but the promise of stimulation and getting his ass wrecked is too promising. You as the resident doctor roleplay lady can easily run your medications and experiments on him if he’s tied and fixated into such an open position, one that allows for an ideal viewing of his reactions. What an attractive patient to examine, would be a shame if he got riled up from a lot of overstimulation and got sore from his doctor’s appointment.

And: He sees all you do to him up close. Minho is so obsessed with everything that even remotely goes past his sphincter, giving him a prostate orgasm is the easiest thing in the world. Extra huge vibrators, anything goes (in). Just how much can patient Lee stretch out, god dammit. The juicier it gets, the better. „I feel so dirty… but it’s so good.“ He has a horny meltdown over getting a full dose of fake cum enemas and can’t stop gasping out loud. Look how his jaw will drop and his legs shiver when he sees it oozing right out of him onto a towel on the floor. You tape the whole thing just to be sure. He likes watching himself from your POV as well.

One time, Lee Know left the camera out on his bed table in the dorm and Jeongin picked it up thinking it was Seungmin’s or something. Turns out the youngest simply wanted to make a vlog outdoors, but guess which risky scene he accidentally clicked on since the thumbnail was Lee Know making a funny-looking face. Well well, it wasn’t the meme video he anticipated. Jeongin gave the camera back to you with a big smug grin. Out of all people, you thought he was the one to be the most embarrassed about what he accidentally saw. Lewd maknae alert. Going by his reaction, he’s probably seen and done it all, the tape didn’t even fluster him in the slightest.

In Stray Kids, the hyungs have the decency and bashfulness while the hard-nosed younger members have a real poker face about sex stuff. Hyunjin, the man, the legend, once watched sub boy hentai so disgusting at a decently loud volume on a big screen (his dang headphones were broken, RIP), not even batting one lash. Changbin barged into the room and stumbled right out again screaming. Hyunjin was not even jerking off, just throwing popcorn in his mouth and doodling on the couch. My poor man Binnie got traumatized for life by peach-pink 3D tentacles and never talked about it again. Meanwhile Hyunjin, „Oopsie, sorry! Doesn’t Chan have some spare headphones somewhere?“

But back to cameragate. Lee Know, shocked to the bone, heavily scolded Jeongin for taking any technical equipment from his bed’s vicinity without asking. He couldn’t stop nagging from being worried about corrupting Jeongin with such explicit, intimate material that nobody should ever, ever see. This is a scandal to him. Lee Know feels like his and your dignity went down the drain, he swears to lock the camera into an iron box ten miles below the earth, but Jeongin keeps the juicy secret with a smile. He doesn’t even seem to care that much about having seen Lee Know's ass getting stuffed with all kinds of things. Your boyfriend realizes that Jeongin would not even mildly chuckle if his own dick got broadcasted to the whole world and leaves the seasoned pervert maknae be.

He still gets recurring thoughts about the mishap later on and talks it out with you after a sighing confession. „I don’t know how much he’s seen of it… Jeongin didn’t say a word!“ You tell Lee Know that he might keep his sex life painstakingly hidden from the group members out of politeness and privacy, but they were well aware that the two of you were pretty active. Much like some of the other members, who could of course tell the signs, so, duh. Of course they weren’t losing their mind that Lee Know had a ‚King of Anal Debauchery‘-themed sex tape. If anything, that is the most in-character thing ever.

„I mean look at Hyunjin, he has zero pretenses and shame about his schticks. And Jeongin has an opinion like, Lee Know is a grandpa who thinks he invented the wheel.“ That viewpoint gives Lee Know at least some peace of mind, he really couldn’t sleep for two days. But he will continue to gripe to Jeongin that he better not gossip, or jack off over the thought of you even if you’re not seen as much as Lee Know in that video. And he wants Jeongin to just forget what he saw anyway. Lee Know has his priorities figured out: He likes to be humiliated — but only by you.

Jeongin vows to erase his memory. He insists he’s only seen like five seconds before clicking off, knowing it’s not his business, and he says Lee Know’s facial expressions were underwhelming so it wasn’t even interesting. „Well I hope so,“ Lino grumbles, and continues to put any risqué videos on a hard drive that only the two of you can access with a password. He’s starting to realize that it’s really not that much of a big deal to Jeongin who is merely amused, but he learned his lesson in taking care of the camera if he doesn’t want his videos to be seen.

The facial expression thing sticks with him though and he tries to up his game there even if you say you don’t see a fault in them, I mean he looks fucked out, he looks cute, what more do you need? Lee Know is frustrated about his own confidence dwindling every so often, the cameragate was only another nail in the coffin, so you resort to what a dominant would typically do. Give him a difficult task. Lee Know is your service sub for a week and has to execute the protocol perfectly. It caters to his strength so there’s a solid base, it incorporates enough worship for you to enjoy yourself every waking minute, and he can gain esteem by achieving the big prize, your content and approval, reaffirmed he is not lazy, a mistake, or unworthy.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Unintentional screamer moments all the time. And: One random word of his and you’re already laughing your ass off. His reaction faces are out of fucking control. Come on, he won’t have sex with his poker face on. That’s not it. The eye contact yes, but you’ll see a lot going on in that gorgeous face of his, with all that gummy smiling. And he’s sweet. Lee Know has the kind of energy of where you tell him „Stop being so cute… Or come be cute in my bed.“

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

My, is he clean. Clean as fucking fuck. Minho is a routine shaver. And open-minded to your take. In fact, he’ll shave himself (or leave his hair alone) however you want it since he has no clear tendency in any style. Then why not groom in a way that you fancy on him. „Oh, you like this? Okay — got it.“ He adapts. It’s no inconvenience for him, nor does he have a problem meeting your ideal. Whatever makes you comfortable, he’ll pick up the hygiene routine that suits what your eyes and nose find most pleasant. Even if he might shrug about these things, he knows that people can have strong stances or preferences with body hair.

If you want it, not a single hair will disturb your touch except his brows and classic standard Minho bangs. With some peach fuzz here and there, the lightest of the light, but that’s it. I mean, all clean, just how detail-oriented is he. And really. So smooth everywhere, his skin is a dream. Lino’s so easy to kiss and cuddle, it’s ridiculous. When he grows out a mullet that so cutely sticks out from below a base cap for example, you could pet him for hours.

To step it up a notch: Your inner naughty devil will get excited whenever he’s especially sleek-shaven and soaped-down under his pits. You like to lick them with the mere tip of your tongue. When he just used really cold water in particular, not when they’re damp and sweaty. Minho is shocked and turned on in equal measures. You justify yourself saying you like every part of him because it’s true. Minho accepts the fact that your lust for him stops at nothing, and he comes to enjoy the ticklish feeling more than he thought.

Not impressed by the sudden boom in ball shaving ads. Lee Know has always taken care of himself according to his own personal aesthetic philosophy. Doesn’t have all the time in the world to do so, but pays attention regardless. He spends some extra minutes before seeing you in particular, always ready. You won’t catch him skipping showers. Doesn’t have as much body hair to begin with except on the lower legs, and his chest and pubes are quickly shaven. His motto is: Off with that and finished.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Rose-colored glasses alert. Lee Know admires you. He wants to be your exact type, the perfect match. He really works hard on the relationship and any shortcomings. In fact, your boyfriend is a little desperate every now and then. Yes, he knows it’s unhealthy if he gets most of his affection and connecting fill out of romance and not somewhat evenly from his social surroundings. But for better or worse, he can’t help wanting to safeguard what you have together and enjoy it in the private peace of your home. His desperation comes from more than just touring a lot, this goes deeper.

You think it has to do with his fame and idol status, which in and of itself could never be healthy in various ways. Interactions in the idol world often remain superficial and in the fast lane. Being in a company is a rough job. That unfortunately seeps into the relationship dynamics as a restriction. That is not to say he doesn’t feel loved by his fans, his family, and Stray Kids. But it’s different when the relationship is romantic and sexual with someone, he feels it has more to offer than even his adrenaline-filled career because it has a certain stability. That’s also the reason he’s paranoid about breakups, cheating, and bad days as a couple.

Lee Know often puts up a closed and uncaring front on camera so people wouldn’t want to get into his business or have him worry over said pet peeves: He depends on people’s loyalty. The resting face, it’s his way of not letting others hit on him, cause him discomfort, or draw his time and energy. Especially the latter, because he reserves giving the prime fanservice to you exclusively. Since he already exhausts himself daily to be a great artist, he doesn’t have much to put out for a random acquaintance. He strives for your attention and can’t help it. Lee Know already doesn’t allow the members to coo over him, he only reacts when you tickle his chin or slap his butt in passing.

The members are surprised how many extra miles he will go to buy you bouquets and snacks even if he’s already staying up late for dancing. Lee Know always brings you food since it’s his way of intimacy and connection. Eating is intimate, what someone puts inside their body is intimate, Lee Know thinks, how does no one else seem to realize that. A meal for your girlfriend can say a thousand words if you prepare it with a caring eye.

Having desserts for sex? Nothing more fitting for him. Sweet food and sexuality always go together. He’s turned on by you biting into an ice cream cake, he feeds on your enjoyment of good taste. Watching Lee Know treat himself to chocolate cookies or just plain noodle soup? The cute crunchy or slurping noises are more satisfying and noticeable when it’s someone you love. You never knew chewing could be so elegant, but no surprise, with a pretty face like that.

Baby bun’s occasional awkwardness makes sex ten times better. How boring would it be to just fuck like… Machine Man Minho with the robot thrusts. He’s far from that, more like a stoic prince with a soft core. And hell, you can just do your thing, he likes whatever way you sleep with him. Being open to ideas is Minho’s key forte, in fact, you just have to bring it up at the right moments. If it’s romantic, if it’s freaky, no difference, he’s excited about your input.

The majority of being intimate comes from long whispered conversations, though. Usually in the evening. Breakfast is too chill. Minho talks to you about sexual topics as much as he would mention daily life. He has this sweet smile when he’s face to face with you, and he’s a shy talker.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Your guy, as restrained as he seems, definitely knows what’s up. Minho, ever the enthusiast of all things full and soft, likes to sensually grind his hips against a big round pillow rather than jackhammer his life away with a death grip. He personally takes care of washing the pillow, too, no worries. No stains to be found. Clean and ironed. This guy is truly a perfect match for any germaphobe.

The whole thing, he… he masturbates in such an unobtrusive way. Minho is very gentle with himself, which you admire and try to replicate — although sometimes, oh well. You just wanna put his dick in your fist and make him scream and cry out loud. But that’s for a different kind of day and mood. Most of the time, things are very subdued here, and fluffy.

He’s not afraid of his cum — obviously not, it’s too nice — and wipes it carefully instead of going yikes, away with you. He really takes his time. He pampers himself. He doesn’t need to watch disturbing material (ahem, Hyunjin) to get himself going. Lee Know just lays there and lets his fingers slowly graze up and down individually, as if he played a guitar. He drinks a lot of water, doesn’t push himself, and he won’t self-flagellate if things don’t go as planned. You commend him, and Bangchan would be proud of Minho for respecting himself so much alright.

Has a love-hate relationship with his hands, but you encourage him to think from your perspective. They are soft and small and warm and broad so them holding you feels great… and he is ambidextrous. What a nice advantage. Minho applying his gentle skills on you is not just softly warming, but the best way to do something very consistent with his fingers. He’s great at getting you off in a way that neither feels boring nor hurried.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He can call you mommy, sure. In a joking way, sometimes. But with Minho — it seriously needs something more intense. According to the grapevine, Scorpios are some of the most dedicated and hopeless kinksters you’ll find out there. They want to be fucked brainless. And as the great Lizzo told us: All the rumors are true, yeah! Any power dynamic tingles their finest horniest senses. Getting pinned down and tortured might not seem like it’s right up Lee Know’s alley, like, he’d be too sensitive, too phlegmatic, too cute, too stern, too this, too that. But the submissive hiding inside of him will get worked up once you put your fingers in his eager open mouth. To put it mildly, he loves them so much. He might as well go with the pinning, which excites him. Once it comes to anal play, he’s toast anyway. Hook him up to one of those relentless drilling machines and Lee Know will cry his heart and stress out. With your thumb on the speed button, you can determine if he’s gonna dance especially legs-apart tomorrow or not.

Most people wouldn’t immediately associate „oh, of course, fucking machines!“ with submissive Lino, but that’s what it turns out to be. Although he could afford more machines of that kind (and these are expensive as hell), he doesn’t like the spitroast DP version. He’s afraid he might get his teeth bashed in by accident and he is right, he’s still a beginner. One side stuffed will suffice completely. Minho likely won’t do a DAP — even if it looks tempting. He wants it bad but his body is getting in the way by being smol. Obviously, height isn’t a general guideline. Han can stretch himself out like it’s nothing. I mean. Point the biggest strap in existence right in his direction. And Hyunjin, he’s dying from tightness. He could not accommodate one little fist with ten tons of lube. Height literally says nothing at all. Lee Know is definitely having an easier time there.

On the other hand: Yes. He’s getting the hang of it and tolerates a punishing speed, mentally on top of just physically, because Lee Know has a sub endurance that’s sturdy as steel when it comes to getting split in half. No whining. He will clench his jaw and take it with a few tears. Because oh man, he loves that feeling of his guts being put in a blender, „so deep…“ is his favorite exclamation. This guy has a great ole time, I’m telling you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As for your house: Not in the car. Too easy to mess up, too exposed. Not the kitchen either (only kisses there). Not the bathroom. Living room, only when it’s nice and cozy and the window is shielded somehow. Your bed, always. Day and night. A random chair, meh. A table, worse. A shower, too unsafe. A bath, neither, he’s kind of undecided there. Minho is so damn selective — as you quickly figured, going by two criteria. How comfortable the surface is, and: How sanitary things are. But mostly, a larger steady underground with decently elastic cushioning is the number one green flag. Lee Know is a bon vivant within healthy environments, not an adventurer or fucking for clout.

He’s not conservative with those things, he just wants something robust but nicely shaped that won’t hurt either of you. Since swimming and Minho is a delicate topic, the two of you will stay away from making out in a pool or sea unlike other couples. Water? Only in condensed form. Minho would totally kiss you lots in a sauna, but it needs to be very gently warmed instead of piping hot. And the whole area needs to be 100% devoid of people. The same goes for a cinema which is technically a nice idea to him, but in practice, underwhelming. Sticky floors, nacho cheese in the air, aircon blowing in your necks, stuffy seats. No thanks. Your home sofa is preferred.

At his parents’ house: Not a chance. Especially not with the cats climbing around everywhere and begging for food every 10 minutes. Making out briefly is okay, but nothing further than that.

As for the dorm: Never. Never ever. Not once. But you already know, anyway. He’s so protective, he’d never let the other members hear either of your moans or the bed creaking. No suspicious activity at any time of the day, even when nobody else is there. Only cuddles in bed. Cuddles, cuddles, more cuddles. He also wakes up earlier than you. Why? Any morning boners he will quickly rub out into a then disposed towel. Without getting much profound pleasure, he just takes care of it and returns to you in his bed. Where, as a habit, you wrap your arms around him in your sleep, which he likes and needs. His dick poking into your back or stomach, he insists he’s not gonna „annoy you like that, it’s offensive!“

Where you would fuck the shit out of his morning wood? At your own place, until he’s breaking a sweat, the dorm is the literal church. You might play video games there, read, dance around, cook together. But nothing physically erotic. He will take some whispered sexy words from you, but gnawingly. The hyungs will coo how sweet and innocent you are as a clingy couple. That’s all they ever get to see.

Lee Know doesn’t want to share one bit of his intimacy with you with anyone else. It makes him super cranky when people get into his and especially your business. Minho will glare should they be asking about what you do with him sexually, or how you’re like in the sheets, and if he did this or that already, or if he’s having fun. „Never ask again!“ Warning taken. Minho’s sense of privacy is a diamond vault.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Eye contact. Boom. This is so important to him. It spurs Minho into extra-long rounds more often than not. Who doesn’t want to stare right back when he’s doing his soft little kitty gaze. Also — A very distinct type of lingering eye contact is the primary way you tell him you want sex. He can read your expressions well and comes running. Minho considers sex a way of looking into each other’s soul. As for you: Looking at this lil’ dainty face of utmost beauty surely isn’t a bad way to spend your time. Minho’s fucking pretty and he smells so good, hell, even the mint gum he loves to chew and his laundry and hair and everything. You admit your addiction to his scent and he definitely takes note of that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He’d probably hate and isolate himself for ages if you started to cry from something he did. Naturally, Minho touches you with invisible satin gloves, in a positive way. Lack of respect and gentleness towards a beloved is a big pet peeve, as is making you afraid.

He’s allergic to porn and society telling him he should be hands-on because it’s supposedly sexy. Slapping you would be a big turn-off. He couldn’t hurt and bruise you, or yell at you, or make you flinch somehow, intimidating you in general. Lee Know has enough sore areas on either leg from dancing to know how much even the little painful spots hurt. A dancer will always be aware how delicate and mortal a body really is.

Also doesn’t like anything that has to do with breath play. Minho doesn’t want to be choked out, nor would he choke you either. He’s really uneasy about it and knows how dangerous it is. He’d rather place his hands on your waist and likes your hands flat on his chest, shoulders, or stomach. When it comes to you pegging him prone, his shoulder blades.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He can only eat someone out or get a blowjob when he’s really in love. Nothing casual will do. Under your eyes, his glaring uncertainty is immediately telling. He’s done it three, four times at best. Minho’s actually avoided it so much in the past because of some very mediocre trial-and-error encounters that had either party disappointed. It’s a shame, of course he wants to be unbiased, but he does carry it with him, so you have to be patient with Lee Know.

Minho thinks it’s too intimate to ever do on a first date. To him, a person’s lips, including his, are, to a degree, extremely sacred. Not anyone can suck his dick out of nowhere, even if they are jaw-droppingly good-looking. He’s stingy. Even if his dick would be hard, he’d just feel strange how that person is so close to him and just… slobbers all over his dick so unceremoniously. The established feeling between him and his partner is more important. He wants to know the person inside out and wants to have looked at them and listened to them talking for many hours. Trusting them is so crucial.

When he prepares for pleasing you with his tongue, he’s eyeing what he’s about to do with a lot of respect. He wants his dick treated with equal care, too, even if an eager mouth is always appreciated and melts his brain. Minho likes a good balance. Brain melt and kindness. Being impersonal wouldn’t meet his benchmark and frustrate Minho.

It needs the right setting, too. Minho thinks he’s a complete pain in the ass obsessing over the minutiae and making a giant deal out of oral sex. You don’t think his diligence is a problem to himself. His anguish is. But there’s an easy fix, which he appreciates. Minho needs to be told things like how to sit on his knees, where to put his hands, how to improve his breathing pattern, what to do with his bottom lip, where to put his tongue. His domme might need a 200-page-long instruction handbook and it may seem ridiculous to an outsider how much he needs to know from her, but the thing is… Lee Know has excellent kinetic memory. Do with that information what you need. In no time, you can name the most romantic and dedicated pussy eater your very boyfriend.

He thinks you really have to love his body scent, and he has to like yours. Minho needs to be with a partner whose sweaters he can lean into all day with his nose, and he can take them in that way. If he’s in love with your scent, better believe he’ll go crazy. Once your pants are down, he’s getting the party started. He’ll lick himself stupid. Minho’s tongue is going all over the place. Oh my god is he to the point. He doesn’t really need to take a breathing break, either. This guy is eating like it’s the best meal ever right in front of him. Hence the reason why he’s a human block of wood during aftercare. Never forget that this guy is a chef. He just looked after his favorite dessert.

Seriously. Why do Stray Kids all have the most fuckable faces and a tongue fixation.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Look. He’s not Changbin. And he’s not Lee `Oh my god, I’m your ragdoll´ Felix. Minho wants to take it a little easier and doesn’t like exhausting you. He can move those fucking hips, and he can adhere to a decent rhythm when he’s thrusting himself onto a strap— but yes. An overall relaxed mood prevails right here, nobody’s burning the house down. Lee Know conserves his energy well to draw it out. But: The atmosphere is still deeply heated and wide awake in the moment. Make no mistake. He’s not boring. Minho is very keen and gifted in the way he moves. If anything: He’s excellent.

When you’re asking for a dick appointment, Minho does something very properly. He makes sure to go in all the way. And pulls out 95%, not too slowly, and not too fast. And then goes in all the way again. Which means you’re naturally gonna suck him back in when he moves away, and grow to want more and more of him. Which he gladly obliges to, you got this guy in your pocket. This only works in certain positions, but you figure those out with time. By the way: He doesn’t refer to it as fucking or penetrating, though, but hugging his dick.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Blowing off a bit of steam, making it passionate, being a little stealthy? Why not. Minho knows all the introvert spots in any building he’s familiar with. The nooks and crannies, any silent corner. You know, like any cat would — it’s only logical. He’s the type to secure that no one will ever catch you, not even Nosy Line aka Chan, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin. He seems to carry condoms and wipes in every pocket and is perfectly prepared in general. Lee Know knows exactly when to shower so he meets you fresh and lovely, and of course: A bit nervous.

If he’s not careful, Minho cums in a heartbeat with your ass bouncing off his thighs. It feels so soft and sounds so amazing, this absolutely blows his mind no matter how often you do quickies. This is not just you being lucky you’re with him, Minho is also glad he got you and that your desire for each other is extremely strong. He’s just gonna let go and release. He can’t help it. Those quickies have Minho wearing rose-colored glasses while at the same time having him admire your body. He thinks this must be heaven, he has such an innocent excitement. All his brain says in that moment is a stream of yes, oh god, wow, oh shit, oh fuck, she’s doing it!

You’re having tons of fun and… that Minho feels great inside of you is an understatement. You need this as often as he can, you enjoy it to the maximum. One round is never enough, you want him again and again. As much as you’re riding his dick, Lee Know is extremely preoccupied that you won’t be getting off at the same time, though — keeping it one-sided is unfair to him. Doing an improv-69 with maximum stimulation, in a random place on top of that? Feels too uneasy to him. That’s why his thighs and kitten tongue licks are your clit’s best friend. He offers them or his hands in one go without further ado.

He has no intents of breaking your back and bending you around to force his own climax in one minute either. This man is concussion-safe. Minho just listens to whatever your nasty idea is, and that’s usually a finger fest, only to simply go with the flow. He doesn’t say anything, he just nods and pulls out two hand wipes and off you go a second later. Hygiene first. Handjob second. Well, not really. After pulling off his shirt, he likes it when you just palm him, he lets his dick peek out the top of his sweats, and he spurts all over his stomach.

Just you putting your hands down his boxers is too damn dry for a quickie, he doesn’t like it. Gentle touch from the outside of the fabric is enough to make him peak as long as you’re leaning in for a lengthy, gentle kiss on the lips. For five minutes, it’s okay with him. Still thinks it’s a little loveless though, to just go back to whatever you were doing afterwards. The chaos and buckwild coordination he can handle, but not the lack of focus, focus of feeling. He wants the purity of ‚you and me‘ and especially some afterglow, and recharge time, sleep. So, quickies only go down whenever the two of you have some extra energy on that day.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Bit of risk? Hell yeah. Just to be cheeky together. But real risk? Nope. He always chickens out. Say, doing something like wax play would turn him off. His expression always tells you what Lino will shy away from, and you take good care of him. Should that situation ever arise, and so far it hasn’t, something that would put you in harm’s way is an exceeding reason for Minho to firmly say no, let’s not do this, let’s do something else instead. On the other hand, his submissive side can handle any forfeit until exhaustion. It’s ironic. Minho is prone to say okay, so to speak, I’m gonna give up my body for this, I give you that power over me and the responsibility. That’s pretty trusting towards you, and you respect him for his found confidence.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Good endurance. Lee Know says he can be your lil’ plaything however you want it, and he knows why. Dance practice pays off. This is the guy who wrote `DRIVE´. Which is about going all night.  Well maybe not eight hours straight but you get the gist. What’s ever straight with Lee Know anyways. Long story short: He can give you what you need.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Okay, so, aside from the myriad of cute wearable animal ear varieties he owns? Cats, bunnies, puppy ears, everything? The image of Minho handling a bunch of strangely-shaped colorful items might be weird, but he does enjoy a little help from a silicone friend. First, he likes his tender back furiously blown out by a very specific strap that’s really pointy, smoothly textured, and jet black, curved upwards for that matter. It’s on the weekly to-do list. Minho likes to be pegged from behind with your arms wrapped underneath his chest, all until his legs give out. Shake. Him. Up.

Next, Minho has an almost compulsive habit of collecting vibrators almost as thick as your arm to shove down his throat on the regular. Minho puts up a camera to monitor his inch count progress. The bigger the shaft, the more wide-eyed the grimace. You always get new videos on your phone of him just gagging the shit out of himself with the latest grass green fucking dildo. He’s choking out rivers of spit while gargling a straight-up… 11-inch cob of corn. No pain, no gain. Until his own spit comes dripping out of his nose.

If there are no concerts or recordings coming up, he likes to deliberately train himself that way. If you come home to your hoarse boyfriend with swollen eyes, right out of the shower, you know what went down. New twenty-minute video available only for you. Today’s menu, vanilla cream popsicles with chocolate or strawberry filling that melts across his bottom lip, little by little. He’s creative, huh. Just enjoying himself doing his favorite thing and sharing it with you. It comes naturally. Minho doesn’t think much about it. He just likes to show you sexy oral stuff with toys, that’s all.

Lee Know gets even wilder when his object of desire is strongly vibrating. He does all kinds of things like twisting his head in a circle or letting it poke in his cheek. This guy has the craziest deepthroat skills ever. Only Felix surpasses him in terms of enthusiasm with endless depth, and nothing is as drooling as whatever Hyunjin is probably doing right now — but Minho is a high-speed master. He can ram it down until his Adam’s apple and continue thrusting it in. Everything caught on camera in decent lighting. He’s insane for this.

The „hm, mh, agh, gh, chh—“ noises itself are worth the watch already, like wow Minho is choking the alphabet for you how nice of him, and you do have to look for a safe place to check out his voice mails and very r-rated `attached files´. He’s always in tears or coughing a couple times when he’s finished, but damn this guy can keep his teeth apart and throw his head into it. Minho is so impressive and talented. What to even say. Legendary behavior.

Also, he buys anything that might make your ass feel good. Nothing huge, just nice little stimulation aids. Meanwhile, a classic hitachi… not his taste. Not handy enough, too large, that cable, the colors. Totally not his thing. The smaller versions also don’t look aesthetic to him, he thinks they’re so tacky. Instead, Minho buys you all kinds of vibrating eggs that he can hold against your clit. Elongated ones that fit his palm, in pastel or dark colors that look elegant and classy. For Valentine’s Day, Christmas, and Birthdays. He always thinks he’s doing the most risqué thing ever and almost panics on the inside when giving you the present, but his intuition is always right. You don’t like these presents: You love `em.

Nothing better than Minho kissing you lovingly, and a nice continuous buzz between your other lips. He loves to massage these kinds of eggs into your clit using small circles or very controlled back-and-forth rubs. This guy watches with an eagle eye how you’re feeling and what you need. Higher or lower vibration speed, a bit of spreading around of your wetness or some mid-buzz wiping down, a closer embrace or a minute without touch, the list goes on. Pleaser Minho… is a very sexy sight. What boyfriend material he is. Telling him you’re using his gifts to masturbate all the time and thinking of his body, no shit, it makes him shy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A balance of mutual teasing is just right. He likes to be put in his place, that’s the real deal: Teaching Minho a lesson about greed. Initially, he’s excited when your words and tone become suddenly explicit, graphic, and expose exactly what he was wishing for. „Minho… haven’t you picked pants a little too tight? You wanna be groped, do you. Not happening until we get home from date night. It’s another four hours in those slutty jeans. I’ll love looking at you from across the restaurant table“. Plus, you have some other punishments up your sleeve that hit bull’s eye without a fault. Who can guess what? Hint: It has to do with a strong fixation of his. Another hint: It all revolves around depriving him of it. No, it’s not orgasm denial. He can handle that. It’s a lot more specific. What if… butt hunter Minho gets deprived of ass! Oh yes. If you provoke, I revoke. Time to suffer, this one hits where it really hurts.

Handcuffing him to the bed frame so he can’t touch your ass all the way? Boss move, hundred percent effective. He’ll cry for your leniency. It will make him so drained and frustrated. Blindfolds, to make it worse? Not a single peak? Minho’s caving in. He’ll do anything you want. Or: No body contact at all, just a riding crop? Just say you want to wreck him and go. He’ll acknowledge: You know him well. In fact? You’ve out-teased Lino with the simplest tools and tricks. He could never. His obsession makes him so easy to control and destroy, it’s ridiculous. It’s such kryptonite to him, his schtick makes him look stupid. Your boyfriend is bound to his desire, so it’s no effort to bind him in return. Literally: This guy can get ready for some extra-accurate bondage work around his arms. Those won’t move around a single inch anytime soon. Whole-arm bondage is so underrated, by the way. It’s perfect for him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

„Let me hear you“ might as well be your favorite thing to say. Heavenly moans combined with his stumbling voice that tells you just how much it gets to him. The more sadistic his dominant, the more of a box of surprises he becomes. If Minho’s dick hurts from all that it has to endure, and oh he’s loving it, the mix of little whimpers and „ah—!“ noises become a dulcet melody: As fitting for someone who sings so sweetly. He winds his torso left and right, the ache is so terrible, so good, so shocking. He can’t go without a little pain and spanking, he wants to be hit, he wants to hump your thighs while clothed so it’s extra frustrating: It’s what makes sex memorable to him. Lee Know is never at the top of his range, but his sounds are as passionate and genuine as they come. „Please… just slap my ass again, please!“

Minho, however, is not the type who wants to be pushed beyond a breaking point where he’s mindlessly screaming. That’s what Hyunjin and Han are for. The messy, destruction-craving subs incarnate. These two want to get absolutely demolished. Lino is set in place about his physical limit and wouldn’t want to transgress any of it like that. His mental threshold, however, he’s willing to explore and stretch in a way that’s healthy, positively nervous, and exciting. Exactly because Lee Know is a tough, cheeky nut to crack, you like him. His brattiness is sexy, especially since it dissolves into emotional surrender once your fingers hit the right spot in his prostate. Because he has that initial wall up, it’s all the more rewarding to see him submit totally and be weak.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Frequently wears long sleeves because you are so wild about biting his soft and juicy upper arms. He doesn’t know why you’re so fixated on doing that, but he’s starting to enjoy how pervy and vampire-like you are. Bangchan is kind of wondering, why is our dance legend covered in so much sweat, why does he cover up like that. Dear Chan, you innocent soul… There are some green and lilac marks on Lee Know’s body that the world should never see.

He’d rather sweat than show his twenty-four thigh hickeys or get his sleeves wet while scrubbing the dishes or washing his hair in front of the maknaes. Not his fault that you can’t stop marking him up, okay. He’s just a little guy from Gimpo trying to make a living with dancing in a group. Lee Know did no wrong. Except maybe simp over your ass a little too much, which is adequately punished. His obsession might as well be the reason why you bite back and see this brat whining over teeth marks on his legs and arms and waist. Taste of his own medicine — serves him well. And you get wet from hearing him moan when you bite him, so.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He got something for you. We all know Stray Kids have some of the finest guys with the finest bodies ever. Minho being a shower rather than a grower tends to be somewhat satisfied with his equipment. It curves out well from the side through his pants which has you teasing him a lot. That subtle arch you love.

Granted, he’s not walking around sized like Hyunjin who struggles with the lack of practicality resulting from that big ole thing he has to drag around 24/7. Lee Know is at home in the ubiquitous midrange. That helps, he’s really handy. Not too much girth to handle, and not too much prep needed.

He sure knows how to have it feel profound, still. While at the same time not making it weird with the angles, having his balls doing awkward stuff. He has that under control and you’ll feel amazing. The genius trick is, he’s gonna wear those type of pants where you can just leave your balls tucked inside except the rest. That keeps everything neat.

Although you don’t care, Minho is not a fan of his two contemporaries and likes to ignore them. Balls are too icky and unpredictable to him, Minho’s like why do they have to be designed like this, so he’d rather fuck with half of his clothes on. Which makes him the prime candidate for having sex at night when your bedroom cools down and especially in winter. Like a true Scorpio, duh, it’s his season.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Always looks towards you because he’s too shy and reserved to figure it all out. He’s really observant, almost to a fault. Over time, he’s getting better and better at reading you in word and body language. Vice versa, you train yourself to judge if Minho will come home too exhausted after practice just by keeping your watch in mind, past 1-2 AM he will collapse into the pillows as soon as he walks into the bedroom. He’s too physically drained. It’s better to have a go at it in the morning, it’s much more smooth-sailing than your boyfriend trying to force himself.

As a rule of thumb, Minho will say ‚please‘ only once, but retreats in a visibly anxious manner if he ever happens to wildly misjudge your mood, which makes him guilty for asking to begin with. Taking this seriously is one of his most defining character traits. He likes asking you for a bit of making out on your bed sometimes, but apologizes with a bow in case you don’t want to or planned to do something else and he was unaware. „Sorry for bothering you. Sorry. It’s my bad.“

At the beginning of your relationship, he doesn’t know where to go and what to say or do afterward in case you said `no I’m busy,´ but you’re quick to engage him in a leg massage for you instead. You encourage him to place kisses everywhere on you, and you can continue to read what you’re reading, scroll through a feed, or type or fix something. Lee Know is quite like the cat that lays down on the owner’s lap when they’re working on something, it’s that kind of scene. Half an hour later, finishing with a cuddle, and sleep. No problem.

During other occasions, Minho wakes up to you clenching around him all soaking wet, moving about, panting, pushing back. At your house, he’s okay with you undressing him in his sleep and putting on a condom. He’s on board with you getting on top of him like that as well, although the sight of you like this has him so overwhelmed when he wakes up, he just can’t believe it. Minho feels like even casual wake-up sex is special and hot. He doesn’t think of it as performing a chore — „It’s just fun“. When you start the day like that, Minho feels an instant urge to coil into your nape with his face and start kissing your spine like crazy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Enters the dreamland after a vidid ten-minute talk. It all turns into a discussion of half an hour recently since there’s a lot on his mind and talking to himself half-dizzy is the way to go. You’re dozing off next to him, exhausted yourself, but undisturbed. Actually, soothed. Minho has a lot of positive things to say about his girlfriend and a nice voice to fall asleep to. He’s blabbering hilarious random things, too, like „I aspire to grow my butt as much as I can“ or „the makeup staff will think I’m a little weirdo when they see this bite mark tomorrow, uh-oh“.

Lee Know sleeps on his belly but seemingly shifts closer and closer to you as the minutes pass. A tiny attempt to have you big-spooning him, though he doesn’t fully roll himself up sideways like a baby shrimp. Still, you understand him intuitively, your body does, and Lee Know winds up with his purple hair all up in your face in the morning. He’s so nice and warm, he’s your pretty boy. If he needs an extra pillow, Minho winds up putting his plushies in a bundle and laying down on it which you find so cute.

read lee know a-z on ao3

final note. thank you for reading!

[RELATED WRITINGS:] 

sub!skz orgasm faces

skz sub training 

sub!hyunjin oneshot 

sub!felix oneshot

© 2017-2023 sugar-petals. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. all depictions are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

[frenchfrywrites]

A little ashamed writing this, but all the monster dick MC fics or headcanons don’t apply to me cause.. I have a small dick💔

So can I request the brothers reacting to small dick MC Whos also a hard dom?

I died of embarrassment writing this

dom MC with small dick

MINORS DNI

Wah!!! no embarrassment and no broken heart emoji! You have a small dick 🥰🥵💖!!! We love and appreciate small dicks here!!!!!

Lucifer

Does not care at all

He doesn’t even need to get penetrated to cum

(you can literally just stomp on his balls)

So the size of you dick does not have any affect on your sex life

He would also love if you called his dick tiny despite being bigger than you

Mammon

Your dick size doesn’t matter to Mammon because he loves you so much that you could have an extra eye and he wouldn't love you any less

He’ll happily take you any way you let him

He wants to suck your dick and have it inside him all the time

Sometimes he forgets that you’re “small” 

Mammon is the best hype man (even if most of his hype is unintentional lmao)

Levi

Secretly loves it so much

Then he feels bad because his brain has been corrupted by fanfics and hentai, so he thinks that it's weird to like your small dick

But he cannot hide the way he wants to worship you 

Every time you pull yourself out Levi just looks so excited and aroused its unreal 

Satan

I hc that Satan has a small dick too so not only does he not care he also loves that you guys are similar in that way

Super into worshiping you

Especially when you put him in sub space

He will wax poetic talking about how much he loves your dick 💀

Asmo

Asmo knows it’s not the size that matters, it’s what you do with it

He’ll hype you up like no other if you’re insecure

And if you’re confident, that makes asmo feral

He loves when you love yourself 

Like nothing could turn him on faster than you being cocky (haha) or uncaring of the size of your dick

Beel

I think Beel would be jealous of you

He’d much rather have a small dick than his big useless one

Regardless, he loves you! Every part of you! And this is no different

Like Mammon, he’ll take you in any way you see fit

(but he loves to suck you off the most)

Belphie

If you’re insecure about it Belphie is your number one hype man

Honestly truly he loves your dick and is completely satisfied with whatever size you are

If you’re confident however…

He’s going to tease you about your size

He’s just being a bit of a brat though, and with a bit of punishment and a display of what you can do with your dick will put him back in his place

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don��t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[joshslater]

Bulk Bucket

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

"Time's up, Parker" Ronan Parker felt a firm grip on his arm from someone who had walked up behind him and was now steering him. It was Seth Dale from the football team, though Ronan could never remember what position he played. Sport wasn't a big part of his life, and while he knew most of the players, it was mostly to keep up with the latest gossip. He had been big before the summer, but now he was huge. What had he been up to?

"Good news, Parker. We are going to help each other out." Ronan looked to his other side and saw Nigel Wilkinson, running back on the team. He too was way bigger than before. Had they been working out together over the summer? "Yeah," Seth continued, "we asked around, and everyone agreed we wanted you."

They flanked him on either side and walked him around the corner, away from the library he was heading to. "Christina started to call Brennan by the name you came up with, Brawnan. He really wanted you to help us out" Ronan felt a pit in his guts. Wherever this march ended, it would be payback time. Not being athletic enough for any of the teams, or had enough patience to really shine academically, he'd used his street smarts and social skills to be an authoritative voice on who was cool and who was a joke in the school. The jocks had decidedly been on his shit-list. Not because he really disliked them, he didn't know them, but because it was easy to come up with jokes and every other guy, and many of the girls, would happily join in for their own reasons. Some were envious, some rejected the patriarchal idolization, and some were just getting even after years of getting bullied. But now the tax was due.

Ronan didn't even try to resist. Outrun the running back? Even shake out of Seth's grip would be a feat. They exited the main building and walked towards the sports center. Ronan went through hazings he could recall and started to put them in order of suck. Tied to the flag pole would be preferable to being suspended and used as a punching bag. What about stuffed in a locker with smelly training gear? Probably depends on what gear and the size of the locker. He wasn't that big, so he could fit in all the new ones. "You're awfully silent all of a sudden," Nigel said as we crossed the concrete square outside the main building. "You don't have a new joke for us? The one about beef broth was hilarious to some." Ronan remained silent, thinking that was probably the sane thing to do. "Hey, what about the meatloaf one? People used it for weeks," Seth chipped in.

Nigel opened the doors for them, all the way to their locker room. Inside it was the entire team waiting. The moment they entered the happy banter instantly died down to silence as they walked into the room. Ronan got a shock seeing them. He recognized them all, of course, but the muscles they all packed on during the summer was unreal. Impossible even. The room was quite big, but somehow it felt very cramped with a whole football team's worth of large bodies around him. All had gym clothes on, of more or less revealing kinds. The air was damp and there was a smell of sweat and testosterone in the air. All eyes were on him, but he couldn't make out their expressions. It ranged anywhere from triumphant to muted. Jonathan walked up to Nigel with a protein drink shaker. "All there, freshly squeezed" The shaker was milky white plastic, almost opaque, with a dark, green-tinted liquid inside. Nigel gave it a few shakes. It looked to be about two cups of something sloshing around in it.

"Ok, anyone not ready?" Seth asked the room. There was a second of silence. "Let's begin then." Nigel handed over the shaker to Ronan. "Drink up, funny boy". Ronan's mind was racing. What was in the shaker? Were they trying to get him drunk, or to shit himself? He knew one thing, it would be pointless to struggle surrounded by what looked like a spartan army. Hesitantly he opened the cap, put the opening to his lips, and began to sample its contents. It was sour, it was bitter, it was salty, it was sweet, but more than anything it tested of herbs. Like someone had made a herbal smoothie with whatever they found in their garden, plus lime. "Hurry up, all of it" The liquid wasn't as thick as a smoothie, but it wasn't just water either. Ronan emptied the shaker faster, shaking out the last drops at the end as a pretend front of courage. Almost immediately a loud groan came from his intestines. Then another one. "What's that? I didn't really hear you," Seth joked, and got a murmur of laughter from the team.

Ronan felt clammy and sweaty, like the first signs of food poisoning. Apparently it showed as well, as Seth continued "Not feeling well, you say? You should take a seat." Ronan was showed down unto one of the benches by several hands. He was feeling dizzy. "It's working. Get the stone" someone said. From behind someone tied a leather strap with a stone pendant around his neck. Ronan just wanted to take a hot shower, maybe throw up, and go to bed. Sitting down they all looked even more imposing, looking down on him.

"How long until he's ready?" ask someone Ronan maybe recognized as Harry. It was hard to tell with their new bodies. "The fuck do I know, " Nigel responded. "It's not like we've done this before. Let's give it time to make sure it is fully absorbed. We have all afternoon after all."

"Let's show him what we got," Seth said to Nigel. Ronan still felt like shit, but it was kind of stabilizing. He watched as Seth and Nigel removed their shirts to show off their impossibly well-sculpted bodies. They had been regular jocks as they left for summer break, muscled for sure, but no where near this. "Ok, story time while we wait," Nigel started. "So this year the team had its summer camp over at the reservation. Pretty much the same as every year. Even if the location is different, there are the fires, the tents, outdoor sports and such. It's just that one evening one old indian dude showed up. He wasn't part of the organizers, cause we hadn't seen us before or since, but he talked about how you could channel the spirits around us. Nice camp fire story, but not much more to it. Not until a few nights later when a few of us got high and saw... Well, we realized some shit that turned out to actually work. Being a team we all did it, and perhaps a bit too much, since we ended up like this."

"The coach was fucking furious," Seth jumped in. "Turns out we got a bit greedy on strength and got way more pounds to haul across the field than we can win with, so we need to make some adjustments," Nigel concluded. Ronan started to get the picture, though wasn't sure what it would mean for him. Seth continued "We can't just give all of this back. It doesn't work like that, so we were all in agreement that the best bulk bucket to dump all the excess muscle on is you. The way you've run your fucking mouth off all last year, it sounded like a cry for help."

"Fuck it, let's do it now, " Nigel interrupted. He grabbed a wooden stick with both hands, and held it out in front of him. He closed his eyes and appeared to concentrate on something. Ronan could feel the heat building in his legs, and then tiny vibrations, like when you are pushing yourself to your limit and the muscle is about to fail of exhaustion. Then it spread upwards in his body, the heat, the vibrations, and followed by spasms. Nigel stood completely still, eyes closed, and concentrated. Then Ronan saw how Nigel slowly started to shrink. Slowly and subtly, but he was changing. From what he had been told Ronan assumed the opposite was happening to him, but he couldn't really focus enough to register that. His entire body was just a blur of vibrations, heat, and discomfort.

Then it all stopped, almost instantly. Nigel opened his eyes and inspected himself. He still looked amazing, but more appropriate for a football player his age. "Fuck yeah!" Seth exclaimed, and the entire room erupted in cheers and high fives.

"One down and the rest to go. You'll probably feel like shit until everyone who jizzed in your potion is done," Nigel told Ronan, while handing over the stick to Seth.

Ronan was wide awake and was greeted by staring into a pair of pecs as he opened his eyes. It hadn't been a bad dream after all. He really had been in that locker room for hours, getting more and more pumped with muscles as one after the other of the team grabbed the stick and spent some five, ten minutes on transferring muscles over to him. He had felt less and less sick as they progressed, but his heart sunk lower and lower by what was happening to his body. After about a quarter of them he needed to get out of his clothes. His feet hurt the most, but fabric was straining everywhere. He realized he was as buff as any of them, and by the half point he was confident he could kick the shit out of any of them, but to what end? If he ran away they would just continue anyway. Perhaps the pendant was needed, and he could rip that off, but just as Nigel said he was feeling like shit. So he stayed and went from his thin, normal self, through athletic, jock, muscular, swole, to whatever bodybuilding monstrosity he was now.

He didn't cry, that's not the kind of person he was, but he felt like he should as the now recognizable players went through his greatest hits of jock insults, and a whole list of new ones like meatpacker, swole sink, and hunkty dumpty. Harry had brought a roll of stickers from a supermarket saying "USDA Prime" and put one on his chest. After he had removed it he got another one stuck on his back, and to everyone's great amusement he couldn't reach that far back with all his new muscles. Someone had brought some clothes he could actually fit in. A pair of well worn, bulky sneakers, a pair of spandex shorts, and a stringer with the print "Size Matters", all raided from the lost and found at local gyms apparently.

A lot of the players had left after they had adjusted themselves, and the last few of them left just after having thrown the clothes at him. Ronan sat in shock and disbelief for a long while before he got up and put on the scant pieces of clothing, gathered his belongings, and started to head home. He felt off, but wasn't sure how much was residual of the tonic he drank and what was just his new normal. The way his thighs made him waddle and his chest and arm muscles made the arms stand out wouldn't go away just with a night of good sleep.

[wonnoy]

personal apprentice

koji hiroo mafia boss collab with inarizahki.

*no but seriously his neck is unreal i made it too long dude but i already sharpied it. but here is koji hiroo with mafia sprinkle)

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warnings: (what type of mafia boss would it be without warnings) suggestive , typical 18+, virgin ho, gun, knife

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Deep breaths, in and out. Your heart was one of the few things you could hear in the room. It was dark out, long since the sun had set. In your hands, a bag you were gripping so tight that you were certain your nails were going to tear the gloves.

Sitting in the corner on the opposite side of the room was a man with his legs crossed and his eyes narrowed at the other two gentlemen in the room. Their voices were just barely above whispers.

"Koji, sir, we made sure that the bag was right here-"

"I'm sure as hell that I didn't suck the bag into my ass, you need to find my bag or you're going to find my foot up your ass," Koji said. The bag that they were talking about was the one that was in your hands.

It was supposed to be a job that got you in and out of the place tout suite. But now that you were in, you couldn't get out. Every breath you took was a risk, it seemed the man sitting down - Koji you believe - had hyper senses. His eyes were always searching the room, occasionally they would flit past you which would make you hold your breath.

He knew you were here he was just trying to make you suffer.

You looked to the left and eyed down the shut door. If you were lucky enough - not to mention, fast - you could make it out of here. The two men searching the room were getting closer and closer to your hiding spot. It wouldn't be much longer until they found you with the way that rummaged through practically everything.

Your throat was much more than dry at this point, swallowing proved to do nothing in trying to cool your nerves, yet you did it anyway.

One of the men came a little closer to you now, you could tell by the noise they were making. They really where searching every nook and cranny that they could get their hands on. It was now or never else their meaty paws would be all over your body. Slightly adjusting the mask on your face to make sure you couldn't be identified, you made a dash for the door.

It was a slight movement at first that you made that gained Koji's attention initially. Then it was the rapid speed that you ducked out from under the table and pushed past the guy who was about to grab you.

"Fucking grab her would you idiots," Koji semi-yelled at the two men. They were quick to interact, a silent language between the two of them as they coordinated to trap you inside the room.

You watched the door be quickly blocked off with the guard's massive stature and with its closure your heart shriveled at any chance of making it out of here. You stopped running and stood still, very aware of the man behind you, the one in front of you, and the one next to you.

There was laughter from Koji who was still sitting on the chair.

"So you're the one who took the bag?" and more to himself muttered, "aren't you a sad excuse for a burglar," and then he stood, the chair screeching across the floor as it was pushed back. He took his sweet time walking over to you, only one eye visible with the other being blocked completely by his black fringe.

Black, hooded eyes gleamed with curiosity and slight annoyance as they eyed you down. A black fire tattoo trailed down his neck and the rest of it was hidden underneath the suit he wore.

He stopped in front you, towering above you.

"What's your name sweet cheeks?" he smirked down at you. Worry was pooling around in your gut as he stared at you, you couldn't read his emotions anymore. Your hands still held the bag, the weight of it nearly forgotten because you were scared.

You looked around the room, it looked to be trashed now and the men in it seemed to be quite relaxed despite the massive mess.

"Why would I tell you that," you answered, looking back at his face. His one eye visible had a long scar over it, you knew where he got it from as well.

"Don't make this more difficult on yourself baby," he raised a hand to caress your mask-covered face. You didn't flinch at the contact but instead continued to stare at him. He was being oddly gentle towards you.

Koji Hiroo was a man who was known for his sarcastic comments and the unrealistically cruel way he tortured people. He made them torture themselves from the way he picked at their brains. His notoriety was well known, it was actually how you ended up here in the first place.

Money is money and you have quite an affinity for it.

Koji leaned down to your ear and your grip tightened on the bag, "if you're thinking of swinging that bag at me, I will make sure to break every limb in your body," he whispered lowly into your ear. Your heart dropped into your stomach - you were too obvious with your movements. He knew.

You looked at his smirk from the corner of your eye before swallowing dryly. There had to be another way of which you could get out of this.

"Well," your throat scratched, "what is it that you want?" you tried squaring your shoulders, but the amount of dread in your body stopped you from doing so. His eyes gleamed when you asked him that question, as if he'd been waiting for a long time.

He turned and gestured for you take a seat on the chair that he was just sitting on, "go on and take a seat dear," he smiled, his teeth shining in the dim room.

You watched him, eyes not leaving him as you strutted over to the chair and sat down. Your hands still gripped the bag as you set it down next to you.

"You two may leave," he didn't give the two men a glance as he said this. The taller one started to leave without question, but the shorter one stayed his eyes narrowed at you.

"Sir, let me take care of her. I know how to handle thieving brats-" he began. You watched as Koji slowly turned around, glaring at the shorter guard. The taller one looked back quickly before grabbing the shirt collar of the shorter one.

"Sakishima, leave now," his voice had no room for further questioning.

He bowed and started to walk away, shoving the taller guard's hand off of him.

"Make sure he stays out of here Kugiri," Koji said and Kugiri nodded before following Sakishima out. The door closed with an audible noise and Koji turned to look at you again.

He didn't say anything and stared at you, eyes watching with a slight interest. It felt unnerving to be scrutinized as you were. It took everything you had not to squirm under his gaze.

"You should take off your mask," his hand went into his pockets. You blinked at him - like hell you would.

You didn't make a move to take off your mask and he yawned slightly before taking his hands out his pockets and shifting his hands so you could see the gleam of his gun. You stiffened, your gut wrenching at the sight of it.

He only looked down at you as you sat on the chair watching his gun with strict eyes. It only took his fingers brushing against the gun to get you to set yourself into action, pulling the mask that hid your identity off.

He silently held his hand out and placed the mask in his hand, watching him chuck it off somewhere in the room. Then Koji continued to stare at you, peacefully glad that he could get a proper look at you.

The photos didn't do any justice.

The bag that you held in your hands was useless to him - he only just set it up this way so it seemed that it was. He knew you were tight on money and what a whore you were for it. But he couldn't just walk up to your apartment and give it to you without being sure that you'd follow him back.

Koji planned everything from the start.

He wanted you for nearly a month or two now. A month or two too long if he really thought about it. You fell on the ground trying to avoid walking into him when he waltzed down the sidewalk one day. Koji loved how you seemed so meek, never would he thought (after gathering intel on you), that you were a crafty little thief.

That little ploy you did, falling on the ground, was coverup for swapping his wallet and robbing his ass. Any other man would have been killed on sight or left mentally damaged, but you had the balls to rob him. A very strong asset to have.

"Mind telling me when you're going to stop staring at me and talk?" you asked. He nearly scoffed at the tone of voice you were using - trying hard too hard to sound confident and fearless. But he knew better, only amateurs couldn't tell the difference.

Koji had been staring at you for more than a couple minutes, and to say it was frightening was not enough for a description. You felt like melting in your seat for every second that passed. His black eyes not moving, barely blinking in your direction as he watched you.

"I want you to be by my side," Koji shoved his hands back in his pockets. You sat there, hands in your lap, staring right back up at him. The air in the room started to feel clammy and it wasn't helping your muddled mind in understanding the situation as of present. Koji Hiroo wants you by his side after him catching you in robbing him. Your fingers dug into the material of your pants - if you said no, what would he do to you?

Koji was silent whilst you tried to weigh the options in your mind - deluded for thinking you even had a choice in the first place.

He took a step closer to you and took his hands out of his pockets. What he was doing, you had no idea but you leaned further away from him in the chair you were sitting on.

Koji seemed really talkative in the beginning, when there were other people in the room, but he was more than silent now. You didn't liked being picked apart with his eyes, no longer having a mask to hide your emotions.

A sigh went from the room and Koji leaned close into your space, placing his hands on the arm rests of the chair.

His breath ran a race along the skin of your ear as he leaned his mouth close to your ear, "do you need any convincing then?" he whispered into your ear. You didn't dare try to look at him or answer his question.

It's not as if he really needed a verbal answer, your body's response was enough for him.

You hadn't even noticed it yourself either - the small quaking of your form. The labored breathing you were trying to control, even your leg was bouncing in nervousness.

"I don't know what you mean," you said, voice holding on to a small quiver at the end of your words. Koji obviously picked it up with no trouble and took his hands off the sides of the chair. Choosing to instead place them on your arms. You were cold, despite being dressed in a skin-tight, long-sleeved black shirt.

His hands weren't over the top warm on your body, but they were warm enough to raise goosebumps through the fabric of your long-sleeve.

"You know exactly what I mean," he more muttered than said as Koji leaned in to press his face against your neck. The shape of his face was pressing into the junction of your neck and shoulder. He was breathing shallowly into your skin, his heated breath made you shiver so terribly that he found it just adorable.

Koji watched you shiver with every breath he took into your neck, absolutely thrilled with the reaction you were giving him.

"I think you just might need to explain to me, what exactly you- oh-" you were cut off from whatever you were saying, it probably wasn't important anyway, when Koji licked your neck.

It was a tiny kitten lick, that trailed slightly upwards to where your ear was.

"Sorry, you were saying something?" you could feel his lips pull against your skin, tantalizing teasing your neck. You swallowed, he was making you tremble.

Your hand had long stopped clutching the bag, but instead clutched the black jeans that covered your legs. Koji's hand massaged your biceps as he continued to breathe in your neck. Not attempting another kitten lick against your skin.

"I was saying- uhm-" Koji's tongue interrupted you again. This time it traveled down to your collarbone and he left a light kiss against it. You took a shuttered breath and Koji watched with fascination at the way it looked. He was dying to just see more of you - the pictures that he had wasn't enough.

And getting you to beg for him was waning his patience thin.

Your fingers let go of your jeans to instead grip at his forearms, trying to pull him off of you and he did initially. Only to get a good look at the face you were making from him just licking your neck.

You thought you were keeping your composure quite well, but if you were to look at yourself through the mirror - you'd know you were just lying to yourself. You knew you looked like a horny mess.

But Koji fucking loved it. If this was the reaction he got from this little of stimulation, just imagine if he were to have you completely. Not that he won't, yet.

"Please let me talk," you managed to stutter out, brain still melted from the small stimulation he made on your neck. The area burned and yearned to be stimulated more. If you didn't have any dignity, you'd have stuck your neck out for him again.

"Alright, speak then," he smirked before grabbing your forearms to fling you to your feet. You barely managed to catch yourself when he did so, clearly still a little lost at mind. Koji took a seat into the chair instead, spreading his legs.

Pants pulling taut against the lean muscle underneath.

You swallowed again, "what do you mean by your side?" you asked, fingers fidgeting against your side as you did. You felt like a child in his presence, was he doing this on purpose?

"Unless you'd rather be on top of me love," he reached out and yanked you on top of his lap by your forearm. You lost your footing easily, falling on top of him with your nose shoved up almost in his ear. He shivered when he felt you breath out in surprise against his ear, Koji was having too much fun with this.

You didn't have a response to that, mainly because of the shock you were experiencing (and a tiny amount because of arousal).

Your hands were pressed against him firmly and he rose your face from his ear.

"You should get rid of those jeans dear," Koji's hands ran against the jeans. You could barely feel them but you didn't really intend on taking them off.

"I don't think I should," you shifted your legs so now they were hanging off either side of him. Doing so left your groin right above his and Koji was really aware of this. His hands went to your hips before pushing them down so you could now feel his hardening length against your most private areas.

Koji grinned even more looking at your reaction, keeping in mind of how warm you felt down here in contrast to your cooler body. Just the heat that was coming from your vagina was addicting to him already.

"Listen, I can't. I have, I have a life and family, a family that-" you stammered out but Koji cut you off again but dragging one hand up underneath your shirt. Pressing lightly onto the skin his hand was in contact with, drawing such a pretty groan from your lips.

Koji looked up at you and you were biting your lip, "oh sorry, were you saying something?" he smiled earnestly at the furrowed brow you gave him. Koji watched your reactions, analyzing every little thing you did and you were very much aware of it.

His brooding eyes seemed never look away from you and it was embarrassing. Not to mention terrifying to be on the lap of a mafia boss. He could end your life but it genuinely feels like he's beginning it with the way his touch affects you.

"But I also can't because it's," you looked away from him, Koji could see the hesitation in your face. With just the way your face contorted with an abundance of emotions dancing across your face but he couldn't discern. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek.

"Listen," Koji mumbled leaning into your body by pressing you harder against him, "there's only so much pliancy from you that I can take," he exhaled onto her neck. His hand on her hip pressed down once more so you two were now effectively grinding your crotch's. The other slid out of your shirt to place his palm on your ass that was so prettily pushed out because of the way you were positioned.

Your hands moved from his chest and now rested on the sides of his neck, seemingly afraid to grab him. You didn't know the limits of this man - and you most definitely didn't want to cross any line.

Koji's hips rotated, keeping a steady friction between the two of you. Just barely did you throw your head back from the steady friction between the two of you, heat foreign to you beginning to storm it's way around your navel. Fuck.

He really loved the expression you held on your face right now - one of shock and pleasure. Probably his favorite expression on you thus far.

"Oh please continue with what you were saying," he grinned before laying to feast on your neck. He knew you wouldn't be able to operate with him like this and it was such a egotistical moment for him. He was sure to be able to leave marks, not even afraid to nip you.

You were not afraid to grip on to him anymore, that long gone when your fingers let go of his neck to instead tease his scalp with your fingers. The groan this man let loose vibrated your entire being - filling you a sense of pride.

You didn't even notice Koji slipping his entire arm around you press you harder into him while the other traveled to his pant leg - pulling a tiny blade. You didn't protest as he used it to aggressively cut away your jeans, showing the same amount of eagerness as you unbuttoned his pants.

Your pretty pink panties were on display to him and soon gone when he sliced it off of your body. Your fingers on one hand trace pretty patterns on v-line while the other shakily pulled down the zipper.

You were more than eager and it did more than show because Koji heard it when you let out a hushed 'Hiroo' when his fingers brushed against the lips of your pussy. He pulled his head out of your neck to look at his fingers and what a mess you made out of them.

"Jesus Christ," he strained himself to say, extremely turned on by the sight of his digits drenched in your slick. You were dazed when you looked too, not even in the slightest embarrassed. However, awake, when you watched him with owlish eyes when he sucked them into his mouth.

Koji didn't look away from you as he sucked his fingers clean of you.

"Fuck, you taste good," was the first thing he said as his fingers popped from his mouth. You only licked your lips in response before leaning forward abruptly and smashing your lips onto his.

You wanted to taste what you tasted like too, with a light seasoning of Koji as well.

It didn't taste good - more funny that anything else but by the gods did was it so erotic. Koji was shocked at first being so kissed abruptly but he welcomed it with an open mouth and an greedy tongue. It ran over your gums, stroking your own tongue, even trying to shove itself down your throat. It wasn't a gentle kiss by all means, it was one that made you both try and shrug off your shredded jeans.

His cock was already sprung, pressing hard against the confines of his boxers through the hole where you somehow managed to unzip his pants. His voice rumbled in his throat and stopped kissing you to more accurately slice and dice your jeans when he wasn't successful with pushing them off.

There were shreds of your jeans on the floor beneath you and Koji went back to devouring your mouth as he lifted you, trying his best to position you.

Feeling the tip prodding at your sopping lips, you panicked and felt dread dropping your stomach. You pushed off his lips but that didn't stop him as he went to mark your neck up even more.

"Wait, I'm a-"

Koji slammed you down and your voice caught in your throat, he already knew what you were going to say but he had no strength to say it as a moan tore through his body at the feel of you. Absolutely divine you felt, walls not familiar with the intrusion and something more than you slick was dripping out of shivering cunt.

It hurt so bad.

"A virgin?" Koji breathed onto your neck. Your fingers were not shy of tearing into his hair and pulling. Koji didn't wait much longer until shallowly thrusting into you.

Never mind, it hurt so good.

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dude i used a thesaurus writing this.

but, peep mafia man and his lil virgin kitty soft paws (thief if u haven't see puss in boots)

hope this measures up to everyone else's writing

@inarizahki