#i live with my boyfriend and he has been willing to accompany me most places (groceries

[kxowledge]

I have decided that I will not be applying to PhD programs this round, with one exception (my current uni).

Realistically, I don’t think I’d be able to submit good proposals for each in any case and a poor work isn’t going to get me in. I do need more time – for this and for completing my degree, because my pace of work has taken an abrupt turn. This past semester I have completed very little coursework (7.5 ECTS only, plus retaking a course to improve one of my grades) and progressed little with my thesis. The main reason behind this is a drop in my health. My immune system has taken a turn for the worst, according to the latest analysis. Taking into account chronic stress and insomnia, I’m not in a good place. I am glad I didn’t take more courses, as I would have been unable to go to class. I even had to drop another one I was retaking because it was too much. The issue runs deeper than just productivity. I’ve been sick, feverish, my mind foggy, for the majority of the time. It’s an awful state to live in. I’m in no state to start working on my PhD as things stand. I want my mind to be clear, I want my health to be better, and I want a good system in place. I am unable to unwind. My c-PTSD affects me every week in terms of nightmares and heightened reactions that harm my close relationships. I’m deeply unsure of myself. The list goes on.

I want to take the time to work on myself – a year with less pressure would be good. I say less because the work would still be there: the thesis, the coursework, GRE prep (if I can), tailoring the research proposals, etc. But it would allow for time for other things, surrounding self-improvement. Exactly what I hope to detail in a later post, but it will be around what I mentioned it’s causing me grief (health, sleep, ptsd, etc.). Back to the basics.

Among other things, I’ve started to develop what I guess could be described as agoraphobia – except I’m not scared, but I do get very anxious when it comes to leaving the house. I’m not comfortable being outside for extended periods of time, I’m very much distressed at the thought of travelling to other cities (which has been affecting me really bad considering that I have travelled to other cities in the past few months and I’m also travelling a fair bit over the Christmas holidays). Overall, I’m very reluctant to leave the house. I’m even more scared of travelling because of Covid. I’m just putting this out here because I’ve been very reluctant to admit it. Around a year ago I cancelled plans to go ice skating because the thought of being surrounded by people made me too anxious. From there though, things have precipitated, especially after being bed-ridden for a while. I think I went for three months without leaving the house alone. I’m not at a point where this is severely affecting me, but I know it can evolve into something worse and I don’t want it to. Baby steps though.

[missanalog]

Dear audience, dear art lovers, dear Angelika fans

In literature, it is more fashionable than ever to blend the everyday life of the author with art. The biggest global book success of recent years is a series of novels in which the author recounts in six volumes, 3600 pages, details of his life that would interest his own mother. For several weeks now, the Budapest book-reading public has been enthralled by an autobiographical novel in which the author describes in meticulous detail how long it takes to milk the neglected mites covering her other boyfriend's chest when she's pushing them out.

Fortunately, autofiction in this form is unfeasible in the visual arts.

But it is something to strive for, unfortunately.

My parents are painters, so when I was a child we spent years at the art camp in Kecskemét. One of the residents of the adjacent studio was - I know now - an early pioneer of autofiction. Every day he pissed into a separate cucumber jar, which at the end of the day he meticulously labelled with a school notebook vignette, wrote the date on it, and then placed the jar in a long line along the ledge of the studio window. In its way, the pee journal was both fascinating and thought-provoking: some of the jars were a different colour, but I never dared ask why.

Angelika is a very personal creator, but fortunately not autofictional. She is rather magical.

And she is also very personal and even braver, as in her fresh landscapes exhibited here she fearlessly touches on Budapest motifs that the natives love just as much, but typically only tourists dare to photograph.

This is what started the avalanche on the walls. It was in December 2023, when the Florida Pulp Brother, aka Javier Mayoral, was exhibiting in Angelika's gallery in the Margaret Quarter, that our hero walked Pulp Brother and his wife on the Danube bank near the Start Gallery. And the famous Spanish-American meme painter insisted on having his photo taken with the Parliament in the background. As an almost-born Budapest native since the age of six, Angelika had such an intense cringe at the idea of photographing the Parliament that she was so frightened that she began painting a landscape cycle of Budapest as a magical-symbolic landscape.

What you see here is the fresh, crisp harvest of the past six months.

The images shown here are very different in many ways, but the mechanism of action is similar. With a few simple strokes, the master has sketched a motif that has something like the role of the red pill in The Matrix. If you're willing to buy it, you're immediately pulled into the universe behind the motif, where Angelica accompanies you as a kind of Morpheus, while at the same time giving you complete freedom to see the reality behind the image that suits you.

This exhibition can therefore be enjoyed in more ways than one. Both by trying to decipher and interpret the artist's private mythology, and by using the artist as a conduit to the other world, behind whose back one can safely immerse oneself in one's own fantasies.

One of Angelika's favourite sights in Budapest seems to be the one from the middle of Margaret Bridge, looking downstream towards the Parliament and Gellért Hill. When I was in high school, this was my route to my best friend's house and as I love walking, I often took a non-tram. On those occasions, I would stop for a while in the middle and wonder if I would ever get a girlfriend. Angelika, I learned, used to brood here about emigrating.

As she hasn't done so yet, the result of the match is for the time being 1:0.

When I saw the paintings live for the first time, Angelika told me, among other things, that at the beginning of the cycle she was most concerned with the literal and figurative opposition between the Parliament and the Statue of Liberty. Or rather, the symbolist public cinema that plays out on Margaret Bridge as one walks from Pest to Buda. For a long time the building of the legislature completely obscures the statue, and then suddenly freedom appears, but suddenly in opposition to the symbolic centre of power. How this is not a forced interior cinema is illustrated by the fact that another land art artist, who arrived in Budapest when Angelika was older than him, was also inspired by the same sight. This artist, Viktor Orbán, who, unlike Angelika, was not impressed by either the symbolic centre of power or freedom, created the third apex of the power triangle, the terrace of the Carmelite Monastery, which is invisible but present in all the Margaret Bridge paintings.

It is already part of the private mythology of Angelika, a woman of Russian origin, Hungarian culture, a woman and a mother of what she defines as a "complicated nationality", what layers of meaning are hidden in a statue of a woman that both symbolises freedom and was made as a grateful gift to the Soviet army that liberated Hungary and then, with the same momentum, enslaved Hungary, raping masses of Hungarian women along the way.

Talking in her gallery, Angelika noted how many unexpected places you see the sculpture from around the city. This is a basic experience for me because I am from Yossefváros. The Statue of Liberty can be seen from quite surprising corners of Józsefváros, including the small window of the pantry of our childhood home. But it literally brought destruction to my homeland. Where you see the statue, the statue sees you. And whoever puts cannons at the base of the statue can see you. Part of the reason why the urban landscape of my childhood looked like Berlin 3 days after the occupation of the city was that in revenge for the resistance in Corvin in '56, the 8th district was shot from Gellért Hill, the Citadel and the area around the statue.

Despite all these layers, this exhibition is neither sad nor depressing. Rather, I would call it magical.

Angelika plays with the familiar vision. Literally. What's more, she's in one of my favourite genres, alternate reality sci-fi. I therefore use some of the images exhibited here for childish, but all the more childish daydreaming.

Have you ever wondered what that elongated thing in the middle of the city is that separates Pest and Buda? Why should the geography teacher believe it's a river? What if there were a 250-500 metre wide, carefully mown meadow winding between Pest and Buda, which a company owned by Lőrinc Mészáros had been granted a 99-year concession to use as a golf course? The perfectly manicured grassy strip is always unpopulated, although if you squint hard you might occasionally see two tiny, round figures waving hair-thin sticks in the distance, but maybe that's just your eyes glazing over.

And what if there was a river, but it wasn't water, but spinach?

Angelika is a great magician, because she didn't stop there, but in her painting hanging next to the aforementioned one, she also played with the possibility of what would happen if the city disappeared and we found ourselves standing in the middle of the stinking nowhere on the Margaret Bridge. Which would connect the flat pastures with the hilly pastures of a post- or pre-apocalyptic Budapest.

This image - for me at least - is funny, playful and makes you think about what Budapest for humans gives the world compared to the Budapest imagined by herbivores.

Making Budapest disappear is a great trick in itself, because it makes the existing city much more vivid than if the artist had tried to paint each of its inhabitants in motion.

This blue is my other favourite daydreamy picture. As I looked at it, I was initially simply amused at what Budapest would be like if, by the vagaries of climate change, it became not a desert oasis but an archipelago in the Pannonian basin that is once again flooding the Carpathian Basin. In this universe, I wondered what would happen if the dream of the caveman would magically come true, only the funny fairy would not take us back to the age of the tarsoly plate and their horses, but to the Miocene, seven million years earlier, to Budapest, populated by much more ancient domestic animals, where the megalodon is walked on the main boulevard by the aunts living in the underwater caves of Terézváros instead of the pug.

But unfortunately, as I am not only an infantile adult but also a journalist working for an independent newspaper, the same image works as an alternative science fiction in which Budapest is suddenly moved to the border of Scandinavia, to the welfare strait separating Copenhagen and Malmö, so Pest is moved to Denmark and Buda to Sweden, with all the mundane consequences.

I also loved this series because it appeals to the imagination and the emotions at the same time, and it does the latter through colour. As the son of a painter who uses crazy intense colours and the father of a born colourist daughter, I am simply happy that the colours here are not a cover-up or an illustration, but the essence.

I've highlighted a few images, but all the paintings and graphics here are perfect for pausing in front of, and then taking Angelika's tactful cajoling to instantly jump into the Budapest of your choice, without the need to consume unhealthy drugs or even unhealthier length novels.

The exhibition is now open, have a nice daydream!

[melis-writes]

hii serpico prompt : our fav hippy gets jealous when you guys go to a police event together and none of his colleagues can keep their eyes to themselves 🤭🤭🤭🤭

A Serpico prompt?! 🥵 Ooooh, it reminds me exactly of that party Serpico attended when his girl told all of her friends he was a police officer back to back, hehe. 😂❤ This has a cute little twist and it’ll be our first jealous Serpico prompt too!! 😏

A private party with entry via invitation only held in an abandoned art gallery is just a notch above your regular house party, or at least it would be if it wasn’t held only for the police officers, employees of the NYPD police department and their accompanied partners.

One could no longer tell if it was some type of art gallery after several buffet tables were set up around the room, a chocolate fountain in the center, refreshments being served around the dancefloor by waiters, and a live band playing up top on the second floor.

The artwork scattering over the walls is just the cherry on top in terms of decoration, otherwise held next to blue and white streamers celebrating another year for NYPD officers who’ve all comes dressed in their uniforms—all except your boyfriend, Paco.

As you and Paco enter the party with your arm linked around his, the first thing you notice is the glaringly obvious dress code and that Paco’s specifically ignored it, but it’s things like that you’ve come to love about unlike most of his colleagues, Paco’s never been obnoxious about his stature as a NYPD police officer.

Still, you’re dressed in a navy, thin-strapped, half-sequin mini dress with matching flats as Serpico’s in what would otherwise be his plainclothes—a khaki coloured dress shirt half unbuttoned and a pair of black slacks over sneakers.

“Ya know what the funny thing about all of this is?” Paco raises his voice over the blaring music, leaning into your ear. “I think I stick out like a sore thumb because I’m dressed like this.”

“Maybe so.” You burst out laughing, leading Paco over to the midst of the dancefloor. “That won’t be a problem, won’t it? All your buddies and colleagues are here.”

“Mine or yours?” Serpico chuckles, raising his head up momentarily to spot two of his colleagues hand in hand with their wives on the dancefloor, waving at them.

“Hey, Serpico!” One hollers, gesturing wildly. “Come on over here!! You didn’t think we were gonna miss you, huh?!”

“I’m never gonna get used to this sort of thing,” Paco exchanges a glance with you, but the smile over his lips tells you he’s more than willing to give it a go knowing his girl loves social outings but he could care less about it.

Beaming back at Paco, you both make your way through the packed, sweaty crowds and over to Paco’s two colleagues who’ve called you over; their wives familiar to you from past events and ceremonies already.

“Annie, hi!” You squeal, wrapping your arms around your friend the moment you approach—simply overjoyed to see the girls again. “So good to see you again!”

“Well, well, look who showed.” One of the officers grins at Paco, eyeing his outfit up and down. “No uniform for tonight, eh?”

“What’s the point in showing off?” Paco strokes his moustache, much less outgoing and charismatic than you in these kinds of social situations. “Don’t like my plainclothes anymore, Jim?”

“Listen, man,” the other officer whose a little tipsy chimes in holding a glass of champagne in his free hand and the other around his wife’s waist, “we’re just glad you showed up in the first place! They kept sayin’ Serpico and his girlfriend are coming and I’m like ‘damn, that’s gotta be a lie, he never shows up!’ but look at you here, proving us all wrong.”

“You can guess who convinced me, then.” Paco forces a smile, not so bothered by the party but more so by the fake enthusiasm and love of his colleagues who’ve otherwise talked behind his back or ignored him altogether.

“Hi.” You giggle, hugging onto Paco’s arm and looking up at the two officers to meet them for the first time. “Sorry, it’s a little weird I’ve met both of your wives but not the two of you formally!”

“Ah, yeah, no worries!” The officer named Jim nods, unable to pull his eyes off of you from a sudden jolt of attraction. “I think I’ve seen you at the parties before, Annie’s told me all about you.”

Paco raises a brow but otherwise remains quiet, just making sure to keep a loving arm around your waist to show whose girl you are.

“Aww, how sweet!” You and Annie exchange overjoyed smiles with one another. “It’s so nice to meet the both of you, I just don’t think I could meet all the officers in the seventh precinct.” You shake hands with both men.

“Yeah,” the second officer seems stunned, letting his eyes dart over to your bare thighs and the hem of your mini dress just barely covering your ass. “First time we’ve met, that’s for sure. Serpico, you’ve been hiding your pretty lady from the world?”

“Done no such thing.” Paco answers plainly as you kiss his cheek, smiling through it. “When you see her, you see her. She likes these sorts of things.”

“I absolutely adore your dress!” Annie squeals out, admiring the sequin finish on the lower half.

“Oh, thank you.” You blush, smoothening out your dress, but it’s not just Annie and the other officer’s shyer wife peeking at your dress but rather both of their husbands too.

Paco notices both of their greedy, interested stares and returns back a cold and monotone one, signaling he’s very well aware of wandering eyes over your body even though you’re a sight for sore eyes throughout the party.

As small talk continues amidst all of you except Paco who occasionally nods and says “yeah” and “sure”—still timid from jealousy—the more attention Paco notices landing on you from others across the room, the more provocative his grip grows over you.

Touch and physical affection if anything is your love language, and feeling Paco’s hand nearing your ass or wrapping around your lower waist and touching your upper thighs to bring you closer to his side is nothing but a thrill in its own sort of way.

“Will we get to see you both around here more often?” The officer named Jim asks Paco towards the end of their group conversation, but Jim’s eyes are affixed on you as if the question is for you and about seeing you instead.

“We’ll see.” Paco’s quick to answer, giving fake smiles to the officers’ wives. “Parties aren’t exactly my thing but, this one’s been different. Thank you guys, we’ll see you around. If you’ll excuse us—” Paco pulls you away from the group casually as if the two of you have somewhere else to be.

“Noticed that?” Paco gives your hips a gentle squeeze. “Because I certainly did.”

“How couldn’t I?” Your cheeks sting with blush as you snuggle your arms around Paco’s shoulders, stopping him in the midst of the dancefloor to embrace your boyfriend. “You make your jealousy very apparent you know, baby.”

“Not apparent enough, it seems.” Paco glances back to his colleagues who are still staring at you, and this time Paco doesn’t hesitate to give your ass a light squeeze. “You know all eyes are on you tonight, right?”

“Mhmm…” You pull away but keep your arms around Paco’s shoulders, looking at him with expectancy. “Maybe it’s my new dress. The clerk did say it was a jaw-dropping dress for a night out.”

“It is, but you’re a beautiful woman.” Paco points out, gazing into your eyes. “You could wear a potato sack and there’d still be men linin’ up to fawn over you.”

“Baby, come on.” You giggle, amused by his jealousy. “It’s party behavior. I don’t even care about it, because…” You lean in, kissing Paco’s plush lips. “I’m here for you! As far as I’m convinced, this party is for you and all about you. You think I care about the rest of the seventh precinct?”

“I’d hope not.” A grin breaks out over Paco’s face as he takes your hand in his and spins you around. “That’s my job and it’s exhausting enough seeing what these shitheads are up to.”

“Mhmm, and you work so hard, sooooo—” You lace both of your hands with Paco, stealing another kiss off your lips. “You can party just as hard and we can ignore everyone else even if they can’t keep their eyes off us.”

“They can know you’re my girl. They can watch from there then, I don't care.” Paco reaffirms, raising your hands up to his mouth to kiss them both. “Mine and mine alone.”

[sombreboy]

Expensive doll⇢jjk & pjm

[ masterlist ] Serves as an afterstory for our series Mused Obsession, but can be read on its own. 

Written together with @chimoona​ as JM and @sombreboy​ as JK

Synopsis: In celebration of their one year anniversary, Jungkook dresses Jimin up in lingerie & makeup as his picture-perfect doll and ruins him in every way he desires.

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 15.7k ⇢Ch.warnings: Profanity, JM dressing in lingerie and wearing makeup, messy kissing, degrading petnames and dirtytalk, breathplay, bj, praise kink, JK's fetish for crybaby JM remains intact, body worship, foot fetish JK literally slorps JM's petite little foot and it is v erotic join us feet hoes, some biting, mentions of blood(from a sharp stiletto lol dw), ok hold up and stay w me here JK rides JM but he is in no way a bottom, this is some top ridin' stuff to drive Jm mad and let me tell you it works, then JK puts little JM back in his place where he belongs stuffed with dick, rough fucking, in fact its so rough that JM can't hold his pee im not even sorry-- it was hot, idk what else if you've read any of my stuff you should just kinda know what you're up for. xo

The chime of the security alarm strikes the quiet mansion as Jungkook shuts the door behind him, kicking off his shoes in a hurry. He hugs luxury shopping bags close to his chest, trembling with excitement. He'd been holding onto the bags at work to ensure Jimin didn't see them for days, which felt like months—especially today, to finally come home to his favorite person in the entire universe and spend their first official anniversary together.

It's been an entire year since Jimin proved his love and dedication to the photographer, and life couldn't be any better than it is now. They're unstoppable, thriving as the biggest names in the industry. With a lot of fame—a lot more on Jimin's end—comes a lot of work and less time together, except for when they manage to crawl into bed at the end of the day. So, Jeon Jungkook wanted to make tonight extra special. He'd missed having Jimin truly just for himself; not just as a boyfriend, but as a model and his muse.

"Baby, I'm home." Jungkook calls out as he eyes the rooms, listening to where Jimin could be. He knows the model had the day off, so the younger man had given him a little white lie—he wouldn’t be able to make it home early. Yet here he is, giddy like a child and ready to surprise his beloved butterfly.

"Come to me~" He adds cheerfully while walking towards the stairs, searching for Jimin when he hears the small thuds of his lover's light footsteps.

"K-kookie?" Jimin calls from their bedroom, rubbing his sleepy eyes after a long nap. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Jungkook arrive.

Thinking he had more time to get dressed and ready for their night together, he's caught, fresh from restful sleep, wearing only an oversized t-shirt and tight black briefs. The night was planned to a T...in Jimin's mind. A brand new suit hung in the walk-in closet, designed and tailored specifically for his body. He knows how the young photographer likes to ogle when the fabric of his pants hugs his plump cheeks daringly, almost too tight for a public setting.

But tonight, there will be no public outing. No distractions from the outside world, getting in the way of their time together.

As high-profile as the two men have grown over the last year, they've found it hard to take a leisurely night out on the town without being spotted by a fan of their work or an industry mate trying to cut into their fun. It's been a rollercoaster, but it's been the thrill of their lives. Even then, it's necessary to plan nights of relaxation and indulgence. So, Jimin set out candles and dipped ruby ripe strawberries in milk chocolate, planning a romantic night with just the two of them. He even chilled a bottle of overpriced champagne—a gift from Namjoon, hand-delivered for the happy couple. It was assumed that since Jungkook was working late, the ambiance of a well-kept home and a willing partner was all he wanted anyhow... Until, of course, Jimin glides down the stairs and spots his lover with armfuls of bags. Designer bags.

"Welcome h-ooome," he yawns, still finding his voice, "And happy anniversary, baby." He leans in and stands on his toes, pressing his body into the bags held at Jungkook's chest to give him a sweet kiss. "I missed you a lot...and I cleaned up too, but I guess I fell asleep at some point. I was going to get all pretty for you, so just pretend I'm dressed up right now."

“You’re gorgeous, baby.” Jungkook smiles into the kiss, returning it softly. He pulls back to drink in the fresh state Jimin is in. No makeup, barely dressed... It's like the visionary’s plans were fated to happen. “And this is perfect for what I have planned for you. A clean canvas, so to speak.” The young photographer adds as he hands over the bags to his lover. “Take off everything you’re wearing and put this on, nothing else. And bring the small bag with you to the studio.” He leans in closer to allow the hot breath of every spoken word to fan over Jimin’s cheek, whispering his next words. “I’ll be waiting for you. Okay? Now go.”

Accustomed to following the photographer's orders, Jimin doesn't waste a moment scurrying to the bathroom and peeling off his shirt on the way in. He kicks off his underwear and sits on the closed toilet seat to skim through the first bag's contents. The second he runs his hands over smooth silk ribbons and lace, his heart leaps out of his chest. 

Lingerie. Women's lingerie, he notes internally as his fingers skim the fabric with a timid touch. It feels small in his hand, and he already knows it's not meant to cover much. Jungkook has always been an appreciator of visual art, and in the back of Jimin's mind, he always knew this moment would come. The female form can be voluptuous and sensual—soft to the touch and comforting when held close. 

Without taking the lingerie out to inspect it closely, Jimin knows this look is made to illuminate his feminine traits—to hug the small of his waist and accentuate the curve of his hips, prominently displaying some of his lover's favorite parts with exaggerated flair.

As a former full-time model, Jimin doesn't think twice about indulging this new request from Jungkook. He's been half-naked in front of strangers in very scandalous clothing, it's only right he indulges his partner with the same courtesy, under his exact specifications. 

He sets the smaller bag aside and removes the clothing, gasping at the bright red shade the younger man had chosen. It looks like fresh blood as he tugs it onto his small body—ribbons drip down his legs to capture the matching set of pure red stockings. When he slips them over his legs, they stop at the feet, hugging them tight and showing the delicate curve of his arches.

A slender garter belt cinches high around his waist and rests low on his hips, made of a thin weave of lace that opens up at the belly button to show off the cute dip of his tummy. Not even fully dressed, he feels pretty...desirable. With each new addition, he feels his confidence grow, matching the opulent fit his love has chosen for their special occasion. Jimin grasps the silk ties that dangle off the belt and loop them into the stockings, holding them tight against his body and matching the two pieces as one. He takes his time to billow the ties into eye-catching bows, adding more of a feminine flair to his long slender legs. 

He opens another bag and clasps his hand over his mouth, pulling out an accompanying bralette, so fair and petite. It's soft on his skin. Everything feels so soft and erotic, like it was crafted to draw moans from his mouth before he's even touched by warm hands. The gentle graze of the lace over his nipples makes him bite his lower lip to push back building arousal. When he crosses his legs to finish clasping the bralette behind his back, he feels the rub of new lace against his cock, only drawing his attention to the fact that women's underwear does not provide enough room to hold him fully. If he gets harder, which he's certain he will, it will be impossible not to poke out and dribble over the rouge fabric.

Once Jimin empties the bags and slips every bit of clothing onto his body, he steps back to admire the full look. Even in the dim bathroom mirror, he finds every little bit of his form jaw-dropping as it's prettily wrapped in red. But no look is complete without a matching set of kitten heels, which he slips onto his red silken feet. He immediately notices how the added height accentuates his plump cheeks, out in the open, skimmed down the center with a cheeky thong.

"Woah..." The model takes a few strides across the bathroom floor to get a feel for the new footwear. A few clumsy trips over the tile to get started, but after a couple minutes, his confidence is through the roof. He can stride effortlessly and sway his hips in a subtle yet seductive manner.

"O-okay." He psyches himself up, licking his thick lips in a quick swipe while he drinks in a final look of his fit. He grabs the smallest bag, still unopened, and exits the bathroom to find Jungkook waiting for him in his personal studio.

Meanwhile, Jungkook just finished setting up the finishing touches to his studio and waited for the most important centerpiece of the night. His favorite camera sits on a tripod next to his large armchair, which is to be his spot to admire his creation. He presses record before he forgets to, and knowing how he will soon see his lover in the new lingerie, there'd be no time to think about whether or not the camera captures it all. What he didn't expect, however, was to find the fresh chocolate dipped strawberries, paired with a bottle of champagne. He immediately noted that this wasn't something he had in his own collection, so he figured this was Jimin's preparation for the night.

"So sweet to me, always.." Jungkook sighs dreamily when placing the strawberries and the bottle on the small table next to his chair as he takes his seat. His lover always finds little ways to show his affection; always considerate of Jungkook in everything he does. It's cute, and even if the elder man's plans might not be what he initially thought, Kook is sure that this will surpass anything he had in mind.

"He should be here soon..." He leans back in his seat, still wearing the suit he'd worn all day at work. His strong, tattooed fingers wrap around his tie and tug at it to loosen the fabric a bit. He rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt after discarding the suit jacket to let it be thrown on the floor behind the chair. His breathing slows down when he listens intently for the powerful sound of heels coming from the bedroom, echoing in the hallway. Although he knows what to expect, he still doesn't know just how it would look-- how his Jimin would pull off the look. The thick swallow in anticipation causes his adam's apple to bob, already excited as his heart beats harder in his chest.

Jimin bottles his nerves and clicks his heels with slow steps, echoing deliberately on the hard floor until he reaches the studio doorway.

"Don't laugh, okay?" He smirks at his own words, still hidden around the corner of the doorframe, knowing there's no way on earth Jungkook could find this fit humorous. "I'm coming in..."

One step forward, and he's basked in the low light of the photographer's setup. He swallows hard at the first sight of Jungkook, even when he's dressed the same as when he left him. The loosened tie captures his attention, and he swallows again at the thought of holding it while he glides his silken legs over his lover's lap to ride him roughly. The anticipation of what Jungkook has in store for Jimin is overwhelming.

Jimin gives the photographer a moment to gather himself before he walks forward, placing one heel in front of the other and sashaying his hips with each step. The camera blinks red to indicate it's recording, and Jimin doesn't let it distract his attention for a second. He moves in a slow weave, looking up at his partner under a tempting hooded gaze--long eyelashes beckoning him closer. When he reaches the center of the studio, he stops for further instruction, standing with confidence and poise. 

"You chose well, baby. I love it." He gives a slow twirl, pivoting on his slim heel to show off the back, pausing to give the younger man a good look. "...do you like it?"

“I really like it.. I knew you’d look perfect in this.” Jungkook drinks in the entirety of his lover, his heavy gaze not leaving a single inch of the model's body unseen. The lingerie is perfect, covering just enough—but doesn’t hide anything. His hungry eyes travel down the blonde model’s back; from his slender back to his plump ass, not to mention how the posture from the heels make it stand out even more. “Did you bring the small bag?” He asks, beckoning Jimin to come closer with a wave of his hand, itching to feel his delicate body beneath his fingertips.

Jimin nods yes, stepping towards his lover. "I didn't peek, I was good." He says it in an innocent tone, as if he doesn't look like a goddamn succubus in fuck-me heels. A brilliant red strap of his bralette slips down his shoulder, which he takes his time slipping back into place. Even if he feels a bit out of place in this new look, he pulls it off with grace and seduction.

Jimin hands the bag to Jungkook. "I'm sure whatever it is, it'll make this moment even better." He kneels at the photographer's feet in a natural subservient position, resting his elbows on the man's thighs and peering up at him for further instruction.

"Yes." Jungkook says softly while taking the bag in his hands, giving Jimin an approving smile. While his face remains unbothered, the strain of his half erect cock proves that he's anything but. The visuals of the elder in such sinful fabrics drives him crazy, and eager to ruin them in every way he pleases. "You're such a good boy to me. Always trusting me with your everything."

Jungkook digs into the bag, pulling out a small, high end lipstick. He puts the bag to the side, grabbing Jimin's chin with his free hand while popping the lid off the lipstick with his thumb, leaning forward in his seat to get a proper look of his lover's bare face. 

"Pout." He instructs, twirling the little stick to slide the blood red lipstick from hiding, bringing it close to Jimin's plump lips. When the blonde does as told, he gently swipes the crimson color onto the delicate skin of Jimin's lower lip. His cock throbs at how effortlessly it stains his pretty mouth, and he keeps adding more; layer after layer until he's satisfied with the deep, bloody red adorning one of many favorite features of his man. 

"You look like a doll already, so pretty.." Jungkook sighs, a mixture of his adoration and sexual frustration building at the sight. But he's patient, and leans back a bit to inspect his work, moving his hold on the smaller man's jaw to rub his thumb over Jimin's lips, staining the pad of his finger in the process.

A moan presses passed Jimin’s pursed pout. All he’s ever wanted since he met the mysterious man is to be everything for him—there, at his feet, living to serve his deepest desires. To give a taste of his commitment to the role, he swipes his pierced tongue over the finger in a slow motion.

“I can see how hard you’re getting, Kookie...” He takes the thumb between his stained lips and circles his tongue around it, releasing with a light pop. “...seeing me like this, dressed in the underwear you chose...” He peers down at the slick thumb and admires the prominent stain—a perfect shade to match the rest of his ensemble. “...bet you’d love to admire every inch of your creation.” Jimin circles his tongue around the digit once more and pulls it into his mouth, humming his pleasure into the photographer’s skin. He brings a hand up to palm his lover’s stiffening length through unbuttoned pants.

"Mm, you know exactly what I like." Jungkook purrs, glancing down for a moment to watch Jimin's delicate hand touch his hard length, now prominent through the fabrics keeping it hidden. His gaze travels back to the model's face. Seeing Jimin's doe eyes look up at him with such submission, admiration... love. It drives the photographer mad with desire.

"There's so much I wanna do to you." He breathes out, his sentence ending with a quiet moan as he bucks up into Jimin's small palm. When his lust takes over, slowly and steadily, his impulses grow more reckless. "Or make you do, for me.." He adds before swiping his thumb over the lipstick once more, dragging the pad of his digit further past the corner of the model's mouth. A stripe smeared in red adorns Jimin's cheek like a small chelsea smile-effect. Jungkook's hand moves back down to wrap behind Jimin's neck, covering his nape with the warmth of his palm as he leans forward to draw his lover in for a messy kiss, aiding in the destruction of the pretty lipstick he'd just applied. 

A red mess is created between the two, their lips coated with splashes of the color and the taste of chemicals mixing with their saliva. But Kook doesn't care—instead, he enjoys every second of it, forcing his tongue between Jimin's parted lips to claim his mouth.

"Look at you..." Jungkook murmurs when he pulls back, the thick string of saliva connecting their tongues breaking off when he speaks, watching it fall to stick to Jimin's chin. "Your makeup got ruined, what a shame.." The faux concern in his tone is evident in contrast to the pleased fire in his eyes. He takes the lipstick, grabbing the blonde's jaw a bit harder this time to reapply, not bothering to wipe off the already smeared makeup around the lips. "Baby... Take my dick out while I fix this, I'm aching."

Jimin pants, left breathless from the younger man's kiss. "Mm--ah...okay." His hand resumes gentle strokes over the clothed length, just feeling for a moment while he distracts his mind from his own growing erection. The press of his pink swollen cock head tests the integrity of the lace, making it bulge out noticeably. When his hand slips into Jungkook's pants to pet him bare, he can't bite back the whimpers of need that brush his partner's fingers.

"Y-you really are aching." Jimin's mouth salivates, murmuring the words to avoid messing up Jungkook's artwork. "Fuck...so big, baby." The blonde model uses one hand to tug down his lover's pants and underwear while the other maintains a languid pace over his silken skin. He takes a pause to bring his messy lips close, wetting Jungkook's shaft with an audible spit that dribbles down his chin. He's never been perfect at following instructions when arousal fogs his mind. At this moment, he needs to hear the slick sounds of cock in his hand. He needs to feel the warmth of blood pulsating under his touch, stiffening and dripping for more. 

"May I taste you, sir?" He reverts back to his role, asking sweetly, nipping the bottom lip and smudging the lipstick even more. "Please."

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” Jungkook looks at his creation, already seeing the blonde mess up the lipstick with his spit and nipping of his lips. It both pleased him and annoyed him, but the heavy arousal weighing on him clouds his judgement and makes him more forgiving towards Jimin’s light disobedience. It’s to be expected, and seeing his lips messy and smeared with red while sucking his cock is all the photographer could think of, for now. “If that’s what my baby wants,” he sighs, reaching out to smudge the other end of the corner of the model's mouth, finishing the joker-like smile on his cheeks. 

Kook leans back in his seat again, moving his hands to rest on his thighs. Kook’s gaze is focused on Jimin, drinking in every feature, observing every little movement. He zeroes in on his messy lips, and feels a moan scratching at the back of his throat at the sight. He can’t wait to see his lover turn into a broken mess, one step at a time. 

“Suck it deeply.. take all of it. No teasing.”

To test the waters, Jimin gives a light swipe along the bottom of Jungkook's shaft, drawing his pink muscle up to the tip and swirling it around the leaking slit in tight circles. 

"Mm, uhm—ahh..." Jimin becomes vocal, humming around the thick length as he pops it in and out of his plump lips, watching it twitch with delight each time he strips Jungkook of his building pleasure. Jungkook said not to tease, but the pretty little blonde craves to feel each shudder of arousal. Each touch from him is live-wired to the younger man, and Jimin feels powerful by causing it to happen. Plus, as an added perk, he knows the slow and drawn-out pace will cause more trouble for him in the long-run. And...what's life without a little pain? He anticipates it. He knows, as nicely as he's dressed, his partner can easily turn him into a crying mess without any regard for the flashy fine clothing. No amount of silk and lace can conceal his inner need to be lovingly destroyed. 

With a lasting swipe of his hot tongue across the ridge of Jungkook's tip, Jimin pops it into between his rouge lips, already smearing a bit of the lipstick over the smooth skin. He bobs his head to wet the throbbing cock, spilling his saliva down the length of it with little to no regard for the mess it creates. He knows, better than anyone, the messier he is, the better.

"Ah, mmh—I told you, no teasing..." Jungkook huffs with furrowed brows, focused on how well Jimin takes his girthy length all the way, dragging his tongue against the smooth skin, watching himself get covered in saliva and faint marks of the lipstick.

"Always making it difficult for me, looking so sweet and innocent..." Jungkook licks his lips at the sight of the elder's messy mouth, makeup smearing past his lips and drooling down his chin onto his length. He's sucked the photographer's cock countless times, so he knows exactly how to do it, and his gag reflex had become close to nonexistent. But, that doesn't mean it's not there, one just has to use a bit of force. "But you're anything but innocent, aren't you? Sucking me off like a cockhungry whore." The photographer bites back a moan, unable to keep his hands off of Jimin for too long before he's already weaving his fingers through his lover's blonde curls to get a good grip. He's gentle at first, just feeling the motion of Jimin's head bob up and down his length, wet sounds and whiny, muffled moans filling the room as no other sound is audible inside the isolated space.

"So be it. If you want my cock that badly, then keep sucking." Jungkook tugs at Jimin's hair, forcing his head to move harder and faster. His generous length makes space in the model's delicate throat, forcing the continuous pool of drool to seep from Jimin's mouth to add to the mess, not allowing him to get off to breathe except from his nose.

Jimin crosses his ankles and rests his bare butt on top of the heels. They clack together as he bends forward and bobs his head steadily, opening up his throat to feel Jungkook's wet tip guide the way. Inch by fleshy inch, his lover's cock fills the space within him. It causes his own cock to peek out of the slim red lace and poke Jimin's abdomen as he bends deep. The blonde swallows around Jungkook's fat cock and holds still, warming it as deep as he can possibly bear, forcing himself to wait until he feels lightheaded.

When his lungs burn for breath, he withdraws slowly, tonguing the prominent veins that bulge along his lover's shaft. "Mmf...g-ah—ack!" He chokes on the last couple inches and holds his small palms in the inner curve of Jungkook's thighs for balance. "...Mine. All mine...tastes so yummy," he emphasizes, swiping a bead of precum directly from the leaking slit. Lost in his own little world, feeling pretty yet needy for friction, he wraps a hand around the shaft and strokes it up and down quickly.

" I-I'm your whore, sir." He looks the part—plump lips and cheeks stained with red, stringing long strands of his spit to the younger's twitching head. To the outside world, he's nothing but the most well-kept, straight-laced individual. Here? He lets go entirely, making his body available for use without a care of how someone else perceives him. The only opinion that matters is the man before him. 

Jimin looks down and notices a strap of his bralette had fallen down, only matching his role of sultry temptress...quickly morphing to messy slut. He purposefully lets the other strap fall, looking up at Jungkook with beckoning lashes. 

"Am I doing well?"

"Mm.. Could do better." Jungkook lies, towering over Jimin's small frame on the floor. His long, raven curls fall forward, framing his sharp features. Being in this position, seeing everything from above, makes him feel so utterly powerful. And Jimin's big, glossy eyes meeting his own only adds to the fire that awakens every single hormone in his body.

In reality, Jimin is doing well. In fact, he's doing an amazing job at driving the photographer mad. His cock twitches delightfully in the model's hands, his abdomen tightening in excitement and heart fluttering beneath his heaving ribcage.

"A job well done isn't without your pretty tears, baby." Jungkook says softly, taking deep breaths to keep his voice from wavering too much in pleasure. He strokes his fingers through his lover's bright, silky curls, coaxing him to take him back into his mouth. "Choke on it, but don't make me cum... Just enough to make your eyes sparkle for me."

Jimin chokes on nothing but a quick gasp. "O-of course." He shrinks under Jungkook's commanding gaze and rubs his thighs together, wishing he had permission to adjust his now fully erect cock. To solidify his subservience, on top of his now glassy eyes, he takes another step and clasps his hands behind his back. No ties or cuffs are necessary, although he'd enjoy being bound tight and abused for being a tease—it was the plan all along.

"I love you," he whispers, swallowing down a fresh wave of emotion and looking up to let Jungkook admire the first tear roll down his cheek. The wet droplet catches the makeup and slips off his chin to seep into his bright red lingerie. Jimin holds eye contact and sticks out his tongue, showing off the pretty piece of jewelry at the center, right where Jungkook placed it nearly a year ago. He gives a couple testing kitten licks, then hovers his pout over the tip, plunging the full length down his throat without a testing suck. No more teasing, he tells himself, gagging around the fat cock. 

Just as Jungkook demanded, Jimin strips himself of breath until he's crying for relief. Hands still clasped tight and out of the way, he's given himself no way of escape, showing his true resilience and commitment to the task he's given.

“Oh, my Jimin..” Jungkook sighs in pleasure, watching how his hefty length disappears into the welcoming warmth of his lover's throat. The flesh contracts around him when the model gags, squeezing tightly to draw more low moans and grunts from the photographer. “You’re doing so well now.” He praises, brushing his thumb beneath Jimin’s eye to catch a few tears. He’s convinced that although there’s a million types of makeup to make one look perfect, Jimin looks his prettiest when his skin is glowing from the shine of his tears. The way his submissive stare from below is sparkling like little stars, just for Jeon Jungkook. The way Jimin will endure anything to please.

“Nobody is prettier than you.” Jungkook bites his lower lip at the sight below, and grows impatient. He keeps a tight grip on his lover's hair, cock deeply buried in his throat while he stands up from his seat. “Nobody could ever compare to you, butterfly.” He hisses, feeling the heat of his words creep onto his cheeks while meeting the elders glossy eyes. He withdraws his hips slowly, only to thrust forward and lodge the head of his jeweled cock as deep as possible. He sighs, lip quivering at his lover's compliance. It’s too exciting, his body is practically shaking with itching, aggressive longing to destroy Jimin further. Patience, he reminds himself. It is their special night, so he wants to ensure Jimin feels like the most desired human in the universe.

The warming praise gives Jimin the courage he needs to slide his lips up the rigid length, gliding his wet ribbed tongue in gentle sweeps. His throat burns from the intrusion, yet, it's a familiar sensation and it does very little to detract him from bobbing his head and building up the photographer until he's at his brink. Slick, slobbery sucks and the occasional gag and gasp for breath becomes the playlist of their evening. Even the model becomes affected by his own desperate sounds. He wiggles his plump butt in a subtle motion to take his attention off the desire pulsing in his veins. He sucks and tongues, staring up at Jungkook until his vision blurs with a wave of new tears. Jimin rests back on his heels to catch his breath, letting the throbbing cock flop out of his mouth and into his hand, holding it firm and continuing to bring his lover close to the edge without immediate relief.

"Fuck me." The second the words leave his swollen lipstick-smeared lips is the moment he cracks, just a little. Hot tears fall down Jimin's cheeks--hand stroking the soaked length until he's trembling to be touched. "I n-need you, Kookie."

Within what seems like a split second, Jungkook dropped to his knees on the floor in front of Jimin; framing his small face in his large palms to draw him in for a messy kiss. He can taste everything-- the mixture of lipstick and saliva, sullied with the taste of his own cock lingering on the model's tongue. But the highlight of it all is the salty topping of Jimin's tears, a clear result of his effort and submission that he worked himself so hard that his body rejected it-- and yet endured to fulfill the photographer's desires.

"Haah, you need me?" Jungkook chuckles when he pulls back from the heated kiss, lingering close to softly press his lips over Jimin's damp cheeks. His own are stained with a faint red, transferred from the elder's pillowy ones.

"Sure you're not tired of this cock?" He smiles as he continues to kiss away Jimin's tears, tongue poking out to lick his cheek as his hot breath fans his face. While he does so, his hands let go of Jimin's face to smooth down his slender form, snaking behind his back until they settle on his ass, mercilessly squeezing the flesh between his fingers. "After you got a taste of Joonie, maybe I won't be enough?" Jungkook's wolfish smile doesn't falter, knowing this will tug at his lover's heartstrings. His kisses travel south, leaving red sucks and bites to blossom on the model's fair skin in it's path down to find a spot by his collarbone where he sucks harshly, certain that it'll leave a possessive mark behind.

"Joonie?" The tears on Jimin's cheeks glisten under the studio lights. His quivering bottom lip juts out in a pout as he naturally leans into the breath of Jungkook's suckles. The hot, tongued, needy markings become painful. Jimin huffs out a low moan. "Hyung was big...but he doesn't taste like you...fuck--" He takes Jungkook's face between his hands and returns the kiss, mashing their lips together messily, parting his mouth and giving him a longing taste of what he desires most. The model draws back slowly, making sure thin strands of their combined saliva string between their tongues, obvious for his lover to admire.

"You're more than enough..." Jimin whispers, letting a hand drop back to Jungkook's swollen cock, still dripping wet with his spit and precum. "I only beg for you, baby. I only want you...playing with me...fucking me...using me until I c-cry." He scoots forward and lets the length drop from his hand, then lifts his knees to straddle the photographer's lap on the floor. While the move may be a little too desperate, he doesn't have a single shred of care in his small body. He aches to feel his love's large hands tug at the lingerie, to feel the way his dripping cock strains against the material, and how it hugs his tense thighs. More than anything, he wants to rock his plump cheeks over Jungkook's shaft, until he's shaking to rip off every bit of red satin and lace from his skin. Jimin pleas in a cracked voice. "Will you make me cry, Kookie?"

"How can you say it so sweetly, as if you aren't crying already..." Jungkook admires the disheveled man before him, lips swollen and messy with smeared makeup. The loose bands of the bralette hang down Jimin's small biceps, adding to the vision in the photographer's mind. "You know how I love it when you beg like this." The younger's strained voice breaks into a low, needy growl when aggression fuels his sadistic desires to go further. Jimin knows this is just one of his ways to show his affection, this is how he's always been, and will continue to always be. Jungkook's greedy hands knead at the flesh of Jimin's ass, nails scraping the fabrics of the lingerie, tugging so harshly that it struggles to not break in his grasp. He spreads the model's ass, keeping the lingerie in the way of his tight entrance as his rigid length rubs against it.

"I don't want you to cry..." Jungkook presses Jimin's ass down, rubbing his cock between the soft cheeks of the model's ass. He looks at his face, never wavering the intense eye contact he initiates while one hand withdraws from it's hold to scavenge the floor next to him, grabbing the opened lipstick. He leans forward, one arm snaking around Jimin's small waist to keep him in place, thick length snugly pressed beneath the blonde's weight while the other hand resumes to add another layer of lipstick, fixing the mess without cleaning up what's been smeared. "I want you to scream so loud that you cannot make a single sound," He smiles, pressing the lipstick harder against his lips, adding a second layer, watching the product crumble a little. "I want you to choke on your own cries, because you can't think of anything else but me."

One last swipe, and Jungkook moves on to draw a little heart in the middle of Jimin's chest, filling it in meticulously. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek in focus, before he finishes and looks back up at the elder. "Now..." He sighs, feeling the painful aching when his cock throbs against the damp lingerie separating himself from being inside of Jimin. He nudges his chin in the direction behind him towards the armchair. "Get up."

The soft pink curve of Jungkook’s lips tempts Jimin to lean in and sully his fair skin with the clumpy lipstick. But he refrains, because he trusts the vision of his photographer—always. He looks like sin—dressed as an upscale whore, made a hot mess by the various layers of makeup applied between spit-slicked kisses and mouth fucking. He would have never chosen this look for himself, and that’s part of the thrill. It’s fresh and exciting, knowing only he can fulfill this erotic vision; being the only muse fit for the occasion, or any other.

“Yes, sir.” Jimin stands to his feet, a little wobbly as he adjusts to the height of the heels. The chair feels miles away the farther the small model steps away from his partner. Yet, the mystery of what could come next makes his heart thunder in his chest. He rubs his lips together to smooth the luxe lipstick, rubbing beyond his natural lines to make his pillowy plush pout look even fuller. Jimin sits on the chair, prim and proper with his legs crossed, pointing the tip of a slim heel in Jungkook’s direction.

“How would you like me?” He asks innocently in a sweet tone, as if he isn’t dressed in women’s lingerie, practically dripping with precum, hard cock straining against the lace.

“Like that, just like that...'' Jungkook stares up from his position on the floor, crawling forward on all fours like a predator slowly approaching it's prey. A new spark of various emotions swirl in his gaze, ranging from admiration and affection-- drowning in the crazed hunger that seeps through his blown out pupils. Having the Park Jimin looking like a hot mess made his cock stir painfully as he tucked himself back in his underwear, leaving the pants undone. It wasn't his turn yet, and as they both know-- the reward of patience will be immensely satisfying.

"Can you imagine if anybody else saw you like this? Every media source would explode, the internet would be on fire." Jungkook sighs dreamily from the mere thought of it. What makes it so good, is the fact that he remains the only person... Well, out of two, in the world to see the famous model and designer turn into a submissive plaything. "You'd lose everything... And for what? To please me?" Jungkook shakes his head, chuckling in a mocking manner as if it's unbelievable that Jimin would go such daring lengths of risking everything, time and time again, just to keep Jeon Jungkook happy.

Just to be his whore.

"And that is why I love you... You know exactly how I like you." The photographer says softly. His gaze drinks up the view above him, from Jimin's messy pout, down his clammy, heaving chest, to his crossed thighs hiding the pretty little cock that is most definitely screaming for relief.

"A needy whore. A compliant whore." Jungkook murmurs to himself when his gaze finds the heel pointing at him. His hands greedily reach out to grab Jimin's delicate ankle, kissing and biting at the stockings covering his soft skin. His free hand grabs the shoe, slowly sliding it off to place it on the floor with unexpected care. He looks up at the blonde again, his dark stare softening at the small gasps continuously pushing past Jimin's swollen lips. Kook kisses travel further down, his own breaths becoming heavy and shaky at how feminine Jimin's small foot looks, covered with the see through fabrics, holding it in his hand like it's the most precious thing he's ever seen.

"A doll." He smiles, closing his eyes when he indulges, flattening his tongue to lick a long, slow, stripe from Jimin's heel to his toe.

“S-shit...” The wet pink muscle tickles Jimin’s sensitive arch, but the pressure of it makes it more enjoyable than he anticipated. Every square inch of his body has been worshipped, marked, pleasured, pained, and all the rest of it—every sensation imaginable, Jungkook has inflicted it with purpose. Even as he pleases his own carnal impulses, he dangles new kinks in the model’s face, tempting him to grasp them tight.

“What are you—“ He knew the second he slipped on those tantalizing stilettos that there was a greater plan in store. The dagger-sharp, pointed heels could easily be used as weapons. After a year with Jungkook, he’s learned how much weaponry and danger makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Jimin moans delicately.

“Do you like my feet, puppy?” The glide of Jungkook’s tongue can be felt through the sheer fabric, seeping the moisture of his spit down to the skin. “Want to taste more?” Sitting on his makeshift throne makes him feel power and strength. He’s well aware that in a heartbeat he can be rag-dolled in any position the younger man desires, but he’s placed in a position of command with his partner at his feet. So he lifts his other foot off the floor and places the sharp point of his shoe onto Jungkook’s thigh, digging it into the muscle just a bit. “Tear the stockings, please.” Jimin’s voice shakes. “R-ruin them. Take it off, with your teeth.”

Jungkook's grasp around Jimin's ankle tightens when he feels the pointy heel dig into his thigh, drawing a low moan from deep within his chest. He gazes up at Jimin through his dark lashes, crooking an eyebrow.

"What was that?" his wicked smile is hiding behind Jimin's foot, which he kisses the sole of between his words. "I thought I heard the doll speak, I must be mad..." Jungkook purposely put Jimin in this position, knowing exactly how it'd make him feel to see the photographer on his knees. The bratty side to the model always knew how to spur-- or in this case, literally step on his nerves to get what he wants. It all serves to the buildup of a bigger purpose; the more riled up Jungkook becomes, the harder Jimin gets fucked. And he knows it too well. Just how long it'll take before he gets what he wants, is the big question.

He looks up at his hot mess of a lover again, saying nothing as he silently obeys his wish when he bites down on the fabrics, carelessly dragging his teeth against the fair skin as he does so. He pulls back, ripping the expensive material off like a kid that's too excited on Christmas to care about whether the wrapping paper is torn to shreds. He nips at the broken fabrics, slowly sliding it off from his lower leg and down to slip it off his foot, audibly spitting it out from his mouth to lunge back in. His hands withdraw to settle on the other leg, still covered and dressed with the heel that so deliciously stings into his muscular thigh. He strokes it gently, so carefully it must tickle more than anything, while wrapping his plush, lipstick stained lips around Jimin's toe, sucking and tonguing it shamelessly with low hums in satisfaction and hot breaths through his nose.

It is overwhelming to even think about the erotic visuals he's capturing on camera, so much that his cheeks flush with heat, and his thick bulge twitches with every little stroke of his tongue that snakes around and in-between the model's petite toes.

"Gah--fucking...shit--ah!" Jimin chokes on a whine as his first digit slips into Jungkook's hot mouth. Each delicate nerve ending sparks to life and ripples tingly pleasurable goosebumps up his legs. He clamps his thighs shut and adjusts the heel, scraping into the fabric of his pants, testing the limit of Jungkook's flesh. Mind over matter, the small male wriggles his butt in his seat, internally battling the conflicting tickly sensations vs his overbearing arousal. With just a single toe suckled between his favorite pair of messy lips, his mind numbs and his limbs tense to claw for leverage. Feeling this, and seeing it happen--admiring the way Jungkook's long lashes close gently as he indulges in the moment. Jimin grips the chair arms in both hands and tears his sharp nails into the upholstery. Jimin mewls, straining to keep quiet, allowing his partner to focus on his indulgence.

“Mm--ah, ah, god..." He closes his eyes and simply feels the movement of the wet muscle, licking between his toes, around them, sucking them into his mouth, until they're glistening in his saliva. "M-more--more..." he whispers, slapping a hand over his begging lips. He broke the stocking, slid it off of him with his teeth without any regard to the price or quality of the fabric. No moment of hesitation to argue against the command or counter with something more enjoyable for both of them. Spoiled, is the word Jimin thinks of...he's pampered in this position, given exactly what he needs, like a prized porcelain doll.

"M-mooore," he whines from behind his hand, biting hard into the soft skin between his pointer finger and thumb, muffling the garbled sounds and using pressure to distract. His eyes seek the recording camera before letting a tear slide down his ruddy cheek, swiping his small tongue over his rouge pout and swallowing hard. "Baby, f-feels--mmf...so good. Looks so pretty..."

With a wet pop, Jungkook withdraws his lips from Jimin's cleaned up toes. His eyes open slowly as he does so, looking up at the overwhelmed man above, shaking with his arousal and inner battle to stay still and receiving the reward. Who the reward is for remains a mystery.

"So greedy... Didn't know you loved having your filthy toes sucked so much." He hums, glancing down at the wet patch of precum staining his underwear, a clear result of just how much he enjoys it as well. "What else do you want?"

Jungkook doesn't look at Jimin while asking, but keeps his attention on the slender legs in front of him. He grabs the model's ankle, uncrossing his legs to spread them wide, scuffing closer between to where he can access and lean his cheek against Jimin's inner thigh, so close but so far away from the aching, pretty cock that's barely covered by the soft lace.

"You're really digging that heel into my leg, baby... Ouch..." He sighs, feeling his length throb with every movement that twists the heel into his flesh. He purposely chose sharp heels, feeling his mixture of bad temper, impatience and lust fill him with every hot breath pushing past his lips. He snakes a hand down between his legs, slipping past the waistband of his boxers to squeeze his cock tightly, staring up at Jimin with doe puppy eyes, rubbing his cheek against the clammy skin of the blonde's thigh. "It hurts, hmm.. Ah.." He closes his eyes again, kissing the skin softly, seemingly gentle-- until his lips curl into a small smile, parting his teeth only to bite down on Jimin's flesh, leaving a possessive mark behind.

Jimin's nails tear away from the upholstery and grasp Jungkook by the roots.

"Sss--ow, fuuck." The fresh mark lays very close to the tattoo on his thigh, still brilliantly colorful with dark shading, like he got it weeks prior. A bruise begins to bloom between the embedded dips where Jungkook's teeth sunk in. It's hot and tender and ignites the rest of his skin to an even coat of blush. Without noticing, Jimin drags his heel down gradually, brought to attention when it clacks onto the floor in front of Jungkook's knelt frame...Tempting…

"Oh, baby. It hurts, huh?" Jimin coos as his fingers naturally soothe the sensitive skin of his lover's scalp. He notices a new hole in Jungkook's pants where his heel punctured through, straight down to the skin. On the fine tip of the heel is a subtle patch of blood where he scraped a little too roughly. "Poor puppy..."

It's a rare occasion to have the photographer in such a submissive state, but he seems to enjoy it more and more once Jimin inflicts a little pain. So that's exactly what the model does, to give back the pleasure and revel in the pristine imagery of his lover on bent knees to please. "Lick it," Jimin says in a quiet voice, bringing his heel to his partner's lips. He clears his throat and states it again, louder and with confidence, wrapping his other leg over Jungkook's shoulder and pulling him closer to the sharp point. "Just like you did my toes, clean this pretty heel."

"Mm? That's what you want..." Jungkook squeezes his cock tighter, blocking the blood flow until he feels his pulse thunder through the swollen tip. He tilts his head to the side slightly, giving Jimin a good view of the way he leans in and opens his mouth wide. His tongue snakes around the sharp heel, scooping up the droplet of his own blood to coat his wet muscle in a thin layer of red. His raised eyebrows serve as a silent question of whether or not he is doing it right... And by the way Jimin's big eyes are quivering as they meet his own, he's more than certain of the answer.

Jungkook hums lowly, a deep moan caught in his throat when he tugs the waistband down to set his cock free from hiding once more, openly massaging his slick length to the way he keeps licking the heel, from the sharpness to the sole, a flattened tongue dragging up like a dog lapping up their favorite meal.

"That's g-good...so good." Any mortal man would go cross eyed from the sinful sight. Jimin is made tougher than most, strong from being with Jungkook, but he's easily bent and broken from the simplest sights. Anything from the younger man melts the model's mind to horny mush--trying on a new pair of Versace shades, or hitting a high score on Overwatch, or sloppily sipping a bananamilk until the container runs dry. This visual, however...is quite complex. The blonde sweats lightly, swallowing tight and combing his fingers through Jungkook's shaggy raven locks, getting lost in the action. He isn't even directly touched, and yet, he feels electric shock waves of pleasure from simply watching Jungkook thumb over his dripping cock head and lap the razor sharp edge of his stiletto.

"Keep touching yourself," he whimpers, gaze hungrily following the younger man's slippery pink tongue slide over the last unsullied strip of heel. "A-and...gah...don't cum." Jimin wrenches his eyes shut and moves his other hand down to touch himself too. His hand grips his needy length tight through the sheer fabric and he bucks upward to chase the friction. In the process, he jolts the heel between his love's lips and gives the plump bottom pout a swift cut. "Shit, puppy, I-I'm..."

Jungkook grunts, flinching slightly from the unexpected. He looks down, seeing as blood drips from his lip to the floor into a growing puddle, deep enough to give a burning sensation in his delicate skin. Deep enough to fuel his various emotions..

"You got too greedy." He mumbles, not bothering to wipe it off as it creates a red string of liquid running down his chin when he looks up at Jimin. His doe eyes fade into the familiar dark stare that the model knows too well. Jungkook could only hold his faux submission for so long, his generosity for the night of giving Jimin the sense of power running out quickly.

"But you just can't control yourself, can you?" Jungkook gets up on his feet, placing his hands on the armrests while towering close over Jimin, face inches away from the mess of a man. "What am I gonna do with such a slut... Getting so excited you can't even sit still in a fuckin' chair." He hisses, swiping up the blood on his lip with his tongue, mixing it with his spit. He grabs Jimin's jaw tightly, forcing his mouth open, tilting his little head back while he hovers over him. "Guess you'll just have to reap what you sow, little whore." He murmurs against Jimin's lips before he parts his own, letting the bloody mixture of his saliva drip into Jimin's lips, seeping into his mouth. He keeps a tight grip on the model, not letting him move or reject the offer the photographer gives him. Kook shimmies out of his pants while he does so, slowly climbing on top to straddle Jimin's lap, caging his small frame onto the chair.

The model nods rapidly, brushing the bloody mixture between their painted lips.

"I'll take it all." A string of Jungkook's red saliva trails between their parted mouths as Jimin arches up and steals a couple desperate kisses. "Anything you want to do t-to me." Whether he believes his own words or not is a big mystery. When he says anything, he forgets just how unpredictable and harsh his love can be when provoked. But in the moment, it feels right, especially when the heat of Jungkook's bare cock is felt so close to where he wants it most.

Jimin reaches his arms around Jungkook's torso, feels the muscles of his back tense and release while he finds his footing. He breathes in through his nose to smell the gentle cologne and musk of the photographer, and the very faint but nostalgic and calming scent of his shampoo. Jimin flicks out his tongue and tastes the rust that lingers atop the lipstick, closes his teary eyes to center himself before the pain takes hold. Perhaps there will be humiliation, or both, simultaneously.

"Anything, huh..." Jungkook looks at Jimin through mischievous eyes. His cock lays heavy against the model's clammy stomach, twitching at the new idea running through his mind. Normally, this is not something he would desire.. But this is a special occasion, and the action would fit the punishment and sate the unusual urges coaxing him to do what he does next. Jungkook leans in to kiss Jimin, keeping one palm on his lover's messy cheek. Jimin's lipstick moistens up, once again staining the photographer's mouth in their hot kiss-- a distraction from the way his other hand snakes behind him when he lifts his hips up, grabbing the elder's aching cock. He doesn't do much to prepare more than spread the slick precum along Jimin's length before guiding the swollen tip to his ass, stopping when he slowly sinks down on it until just the head slips in, drawing a hot gasp to push past his lips.

"Do not move." Jungkook whispers, kissing down the blonde's jaw to his neck, taking a few deep breaths as he sinks down further until Jimin's entire length is buried inside. Kook stays still for merely seconds, not allowing himself to adjust properly before he heaves himself up halfway, only to fall back down. The sound of his plump ass flattening against Jimin's thighs mixes in with the quiet grunts in pain and pleasure coming from him. It isn't his favorite thing to do-- preferably on the giving end, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy feeling Jimin writhe beneath him in various ways. Supposedly, Jungkook remains on the giving end, whether it's his cock or his ass that is the gift.

"Mmh, 's tight... Right?" He settles his hands on Jimin's chest, tilting his head to the side as he sits up straight to watch the man below from his higher view. His hips show less mercy as he gets used to it, finding a slow rhythm, "And your cock isn't even that big..." he shakes his head, feeling the heat on his cheeks in the form of a lustful blush when he finds an angle that brushes his prostate, grinding his ass down to chase that feeling over and over. "Just shows how much of a cockwhore you are for being able to take one as big as mine, ah shit.."

Jimin's sweaty palms clamor over Jungkook's back and move down to grip him hard at the hips. His eyes roll to the back of his head as his small body is engulfed by lean muscle and a hot grip around his cock. "Kookie, you--" This is the last thing he expected to happen--watching helplessly and breathing labored breaths as Jungkook's taut rim rides him rough. The sensation is more than expected, and much more than he remembers. "I can't, baby, it's too...much--fuck--" Nails pierce slicked skin as Jimin thrusts up to chase the hot clenching hole. Each time Jungkook pulls up, he whimpers at the loss and uses his wavering strength to pull him back down with an audible smack. The weight of the photographer is much more than he can bear, but he digs his heel into the ground to hold what little balance he has left, so hard he's sure the pin-point could snap at any moment. "So tight...around my cock...hahhh." Jimin's breaths grow weaker and thinner, gradually winded from the smack, smacking against his reddened thighs. "I--I--" He bites onto Jungkook's arm to hold steady, watching the room wobble in his peripherals. "Might c-cum in--gah!"

"Hah... I t-told you not to move." Jungkook's shaky, strained voice came out as a hiss between breathy gasps every time his ass collided with Jimin's firm thighs. Jimin's series of disobedient actions didn't bother Jungkook as much as they normally would, as this is a special occasion after all-- especially when he willingly put himself in a faux submissive state just to allow Jimin to indulge in a different way for the night. "Now you'll have to deal w-with, iiit-- fuck.." He clenches Jimin's hard cock tight when the latter bites onto his arm, the rush of the pain making him fuck himself rougher on top of the model. "Now you started it, so fuck me harde-er! Don't stop.." Jungkook growls lowly, shamelessly moaning and watching his own cock rub and drool against Jimin's stomach. With one hand firmly on Jimin's chest, the other smoothes up his neck to wrap around it, applying just enough pressure to put his lover in a deeper haze, ensuring that although he's not sure whether or not he's allowed to cum inside, he will have no other choice but to do so-- Jungkook wants him to lose any self control, and fill him up with shame and fear in his eyes of doing something he wasn't permitted to.

The straps of Jimin's bralette slaps off his shoulders once again, the small cups of it sliding around his chest the more his bouncing partner rubs against it. The momentum and chafe of the fabric teases his sensitive buds and makes them stiff, red, and swollen. So he lets the rest of the fabric fall down his body until his chest is bare, dewy with sweat. "Yes--hah ahh...s-sir." His own confirmation tapers to a pathetic whine as his breath weakens. Jungkook's grasp pins him by the neck, into the chair. The only freedom he's granted is the weak thrust of his hips to fuck the younger man from below, which he does to the best of his ability, growing weaker by the second. He won't stop, even if it means he blacks out from exertion, which feels closer than he likes to admit. Jimin pants heavily and digs in his fingertips. "I'll fill up this p-pretty hole." He speaks with delirious lust lacing his tone, just the way he would want to hear it. "Is that what you want, baby? Fuck, you're so t-tight--ahh! Can't wait..."

Jungkook leans in closer, slowing down his harsh thrusts only to replace them with slow, deep grinding. He licks his bloody lower lip, nodding while staring down at Jimin's heavy, zoned out gaze. He's losing it completely, and yet he tries too hard to please and do as told, and it warms the photographer's heart-- and it makes his cock leak profusely with the immense need to cum. So, therefore, he needs Jimin to break so he can finally give back what he's been holding for what feels like hours. "Yeah, fill me up well baby. Cum in me as deep as you possibly fuckin' can." The younger says with his low, lustful tone, still keeping his hold on Jimin's throat without loosening or tightening it. He inches closer to kiss his face, hot breaths huffing to warm his lover's skin with every grunt and moan that leaves his lips when he feels Jimin's hard cock prodding at his prostate with every fluid motion of his hips. "Cum," Jungkook repeats, deliberately clenching down on Jimin's cock, licking his cheek possessively, "Claim me with your filthy cum."

"Anything you want--ah!" Jimin's eyes screw shut as he rocks his thrusts up into Jungkook's wanting hole. "Feel my cock dragging in and out? Feel how n-needy I am to spill every fucking drop inside you?" His mind truly turns to mush, like a fever dream, losing any semblance of here and now. Only indulging in the very millisecond in which his body trembles to feel everything, all at once. "It's all for you, baby." He pontificates his oath with a harsh thrust from below, scraping his nails until the tender flesh of Jungkook's sides, drawing blood in his wake. "Fuck my cock...bounce on i-it...gahh!" The model becomes a shell of himself, as if he's boneless, thrusting his release in labored spurts, into his young love. "Moan for me, Kookie. Tear at this expensive lingerie and tell me I'm the prettiest man that's ever fucked you raw."

Jimin’s sudden and harsh words takes Jungkook by surprise— he expected the elder to fall apart one way of the other when he came inside, but what he didn’t expect was the spark of dominance that laced his voice and transferred to the way he clawed at the youngers skin. “F-fuck, ah— ow, mmhm...” Jungkook bites back his moans, to no avail when his sides are tortured by the models sharp nails, unable to hold back his pathetic whines when he feels his insides become filled with filthy, thick gushes of warm cum. “God, Jimin— J-Jimin, it hurts...” He gasps, letting himself and allowing a glimpse of actual submission to shine through his shivering body. His hands don’t know where to be, so he does as told and grabs the bralette in his fist and tugs, using his strength that’s spurred by pain to rip it off his lovers chest, while the other hand keeps him steady by grasping into the backrest of the chair. “Shit, I didn’t know you could say such things... that’s so hot, baby.” Jungkook huffs when he gathers himself slowly, unmoving while Jimin’s cock pulsates inside of him. He sighs and whines from the painful stretch of taking it without preparation, overestimating himself and yet relishing in the uncomfortable feeling. Jungkook glanced down at his bloody waist when he lifts himself from Jimin’s lap to let the latters length slip out, a splurt of cum seeping out with it. He hums in both delight and disgust, not used to the feeling of being on the receiving end..

“You did well baby.” Jungkook reaches behind him, catching a generous amount of Jimin’s cum to coat two of his fingers before bringing it to his mouth, licking it clean for the elder to see. The coy mischief returns to his gaze, leaning close to press his swollen length against Jimin’s stomach to let him know playtime’s far from over. “My turn. You good?” He places a kiss on Jimin’s scorching lips. “I can fuck you harder than that. Show you how it’s done..”

The photographer's proposition snaps Jimin back into the moment--eyes wide and dark, needing to feel exactly what he's inadvertently promised. As if the mere mention of fucking his needy hole is enough to make the blonde bend in any which way necessary to prove Jungkook's point. "Prove it," Jimin goads, unaware of the power that laces his tone. "I'm tired of being your porcelain doll...make me your filthy whore." The model wriggles from underneath the photographer until he's free from his caging clutch. Once he's able to maneuver solo, he flips himself over and juts out his plump ass, resting his ruddy cheek against the upholstery of the chair.

“Huh... maybe I spoiled you too much.” Jungkook drinks in the view below, standing up on his feet to properly watch the way Jimin arches his back to offer his body willingly— or rather, demanding his body be used like a disposable toy. A shiver ran down his spine as he replayed Jimin’s words over and over. A challenge, that he knows the model is aware that he can beat without even thinking. He must be so lonely, that the mere thought of having his unused hole filled drives him mad with need, and the temporary dominance got to his head. Kook likes it, the power in Jimin’s voice that is so rare when they’re alone.. but more than present when he is working. It’s like he brought home his persona of professionalism, and now Jungkook would get to corrupt this mask as well.

“I’ll make my pretty doll into the filthiest and prettiest of whores. I’m sure of it.” He murmurs while he reaches behind him to slowly drag his fingers in and out of himself, gathering the remainder of Jimin’s release onto his digits. He spreads his lover's cheek to get a good look of his tight rim, pink and unused like a virgin anew. Kook licks his lip, feeling the hardened texture of the dried cut on the skin. He brings his slicked fingers to Jimin’s ass, giving him little to no warnings before slipping his two digits inside, knuckle deep. “I’m just giving it back. It came from your filthy, whorish body.. but you don’t mind. This is where cum really belongs.” He says, loving the sound of his own voice a bit too much. He loves the way Jimin’s hole clamps down on his fingers as he speaks, and the way his hole becomes wet and slick, coating his fingers more and more with his juices with every in and out drag. He curls the pads of his fingers slightly, finding that one spot that he knows drives Jimin mad— especially if the abuser of it is his hefty cock.

"Mm--g-god. Please, yes." The model looks over his shoulder to provoke Jungkook to give him more. This is just the way it needs to be to provoke--to find that spot again, plumping up his full lips with a whiny pout. "Put my cum where it belongs, please, baby." Jimin presses his hips back to match the thrusts, wrenching his eyes shut to chase the high, feeling even hotter knowing the reason his tender hole is stretched so easily is because of his own cum. He rides Jungkook's fingers, nipping his lip and beckoning him closer with small kisses, placed anywhere he can reach. Through it all, he makes sure his back remains arched so his glistening pink entrance is visible. He knows how his partner salivates at the clear sight of his fingers disappearing and reappearing, hugged by his tightening rim, hearing how needy his butterfly is for his touch. "Finger out every bit and put it inside." The messy tear-streaked blonde spreads his legs wider on the chair, leaving as much room as possible for Jungkook to fit. "T-then fuck me full of more."

"I would've asked you to beg for it, but you're already so good at that.. You really are perfect." Jungkook makes his point with a particularly deep thrust with his double digits, twisting and scissoring to ensure that his lover is comfortably gonna be able to take something much bigger than his mere fingers. "Looks like your cum is the perfect lubricant, just feel how easily I got your pretty ass gaping for cock." Jungkook groans audibly to show how much he likes the view when he withdraws his slick fingers, wiping them clean on Jimin's clothed thigh, staining it with cum. "Can't wait for you to see it how I see it. It's so hot, so cute." He adds, spreading Jimin's cheeks with his thumbs before tugging at his hips, bringing him closer to let his heavy cock rest between, gathering the slick. He slowly drags his length up and down, prodding tastefully at Jimin's eager entrance before finally giving in, sinking the swollen head of his cock inside, followed with a quiet gasp from the photographer.

"Shit, even after all of this, you're still so tight..." Jungkook digs his nails into Jimin's hips, grabbing a fistful of the thong into his hands to tug him down to take more of his length inside, pushing past the thickest part of his girth. He watches the way the elder's pink rim is stretched past it's limit and then some, the sweet pink slowly morphing into a blushed red. "Your body drives me mad, baby. Almost lookin' like a woman with these on." He crumples the material in his hand, tightening the fabrics so that it presses against Jimin's spent cock. He gives an experimental thrust forward, and decides to give little time to adjust before he begins to roll his hips forward, slowly but steadily. He will break his butterfly, and making him cum a second time would be the perfect reward.

Pressure builds rapidly in Jimin's abdomen, causing his muscles to twitch and spasm. His walls clench down on Jungkook as he presses in deep, practically forcing his way in, claiming the space he's worked hard to make. Jimin can still feel the phantom stretch of the photographer's fingers as it's quickly replaced with thick, vascular cock. It's almost painful, which is a new sensation for the willing blonde. He's always made sure to breathe through it all, relax his body and mentally prepare for how rough Jungkook may or may not like it at that moment. It's a roll of the dice, and today, anything is possible.

The tight weave of red lace chafes against the model's fair skin as Jungkook thrusts pick up in pace, threatening to tear if tested enough. As much as Jimin loves the feeling of being as pretty as a girl, he doesn't blink an eye when the remaining heel falls to the floor. "S-slower...just...y-yeah, that's--" Jimin's words break into confused pleas, easing into the scene, calming his body enough to receive his partner, inch by inch. "You feel bigger today, Kookie," he gasps, rubbing his cheek into the upholstery of the chair's back and sullying it with his salty tears. He chokes on a quiet sob and presses his hips back to meet a new thrust, "I almost can't t-take it."

"Fuuuuck, say that again." Jungkook growls through his lustful, breathy words. He snaps his hips forward, rougher and buries his cock deeply to be as close as physically possible to his pretty lover. The photographer adores Jimin's choked words, and rarely does anything beat when he cries in pain due to the mere size of his thick length claiming it's space in the model's slick flesh. "Does it hurt?" He says with a noticeable grin that transfers to the tone of his voice. He grinds his hips forward while staying inside, ensuring the jeweled head of his cock is lodged deep inside, throbbing in excitement every time he feels Jimin clench around him with every audible sob. He drags out the moment, using the blonde to warm his cock properly, still grinding deeply inside. His hands greedily roam up and down Jimin's slender back, tracing his fingers on one of his favorite hidden features of his model-- the prominent, yet delicate line where his spine lies beneath his fair skin, moving prettily with every writhing movement of his torso.

"You know how much I love it when you endure pain for me.." He sighs, smoothing his tattooed hands down his lover's thin waist until they settle on his lower back, pushing down to force a stronger arch. "Feel that baby?" Jungkook licks his lips at the sight, intentionally flexing his cock inside to make a point of how impossibly hard he is, rocking his hips back and forth lightly to create the start of a momentum. "I said," He drags his length out further with every stroke, only to plunge it back in harder and harder, "Do you," And harder, "Feel that?"

"Yes...yes, fuck!" Jimin's cries are cut short by the heady penetration. The jolts burn his cheek against the chair, but not enough to distract from the sting of his abused hole.

Sounds of slapping skin rings in the model's ears--the force of Jungkook's pelvis colliding with his plump ass, deafening. "You--You're so big, I--" Jimin presses his ass back into the next deliberate thrust and swallows a yelp, morphing it into a sharp whine. He's incredibly tender from cumming already, full to burst once again. Only this time, there's more pressure built inside, like every ounce of fluid he could possibly possess is begging to be let free. "You'll make me cum too sooon." Jimin wriggles and writhes, but only for a bit, internally reminding himself to be good. Be a good boy for his Kookie. Stay still. Keep calm. Hands lay flat on the blonde's back, littered with faint marks of possession from months before. They scarred as a reminder, marking Jimin, helping him realize his one true place in life is right where he is in this moment--beneath Jeon Jungkook, moaning, whimpering, begging for pain and receiving adoring love and devotion in return. "More," he echos, softly at first, "Harder, fuck me h-harder..."

"You're whining so prettily, baby." Jungkook praises, getting a proper grip of the model's hips to use the strength in his arms to aid the pathetic attempts of Jimin trying to meet his thrusts. The harsh slapping of their skin coming together grows louder when he picks up the pace, indulging hungrily in the elder's hot, tight, insides over and over with his cock. He wishes so badly that he could stay like this forever and repeatedly claim Jimin's body and make him lose his mind. "Asking for more, when your frail body shakes so... Fuck, it only makes me want to hurt you more." He groans when a particularly rough thrust causes Jimin to clench down, his petite body jolting and his muscles quivering while struggling to stay in position-- trying his absolute best to be good. Jungkook's hunger for more grows, and with it, he fucks Jimin harder, digging his fingers into his slim hips to keep him in place, pulling him back on his cock when he's momentarily jolting forward with every forceful thrust. "Remember what I told you earlier? How I want you to scream so loud you cannot make a sound..." The photographer glances over at the camera, knowing it gets a full proper view of Jimin's face pressing against the chair while he can't see it as well from his perspective. He wonders what kind of expressions he's making right now..

He knows he'll be able to rewatch the content later, but he wants to see more..

Jungkook leans forward a bit, still fucking Jimin, heavy audible breaths of his hard labor pushing past his lips while he reaches around Jimin's small torso, lifting him on his knees. He hugs him close, pressing his muscular chest against Jimin's smaller frame, stomach perfectly melting together with the slender slope of Jimin's back. "Maybe I do prefer it if you scream loudly, though..." He buries his nose in Jimin's neck, kissing and biting his tender skin, one hand on his waist and the other smoothing up his stomach until he settles on his chest. The calloused pads of his fingers finds Jimin's nipple, reddened and sensitive due to the previous friction from the lace, making it real easy for him to find the reactions he's looking for when he pinches it hard between his fingers. His hips never cease to fuck generously, adamant to overwhelm every sense in the elder's pretty body.

With each filthy remark from Jungkook, Jimin yelps pleas of encouragement. The rough pinch simply drags it out of him, quick and loud. "M-more...harder! ...just like tha-aaat, shit..." He doesn't need guidance to say what comes next, meaning it with every short breath in his body-- "I'm a failure," he squeaks, "Cumming inside you so quickly, it's just--ahh!" You just f-felt so tight...and it's been so long, I..." Jimin grasps the hand that balances his flat chest and draws it up to grip tight around his neck, helping to push him over the edge--so close, it's almost alarming. Jimin squeaks, "...I'm gonna cum again. Fuck, I might...I don't know...I..." He loses his train of thought, not that there was much of one to begin with. Sobbing of praise and self depreciation are all his muddled mind can compute when he's fucked this well--now adjusted to his lover's large swollen length. "You fuck me too good...much better than I fucked you, I'm so s-sorr--mmmf--AH!"

Jungkook's pierced tip glides against his prostate, rubbing him raw, making his eyes flutter and skin tingle with the peak of his high. This is new. It's not normal. The gradual sensation he longs to feel is much more urgent, nearly bulging his abdomen to let free. "Wait, wait!" His small hand taps on Jungkook's arm to release him, struggling to pull away. His muscles spasm in a quick alert, and he knows all too well what's about to come next. "It's too much, I'll--" Before Jimin can finish his sentence, hot spurts of urine stream down his thighs and soak the chair he straddles. The second it starts to trickle out of his exhausted body, he can't stop it. Thrust after punishing thrust, spurts are fucked out of his shaking form until he's putty in the younger man's arms, quivering out what must be a form of orgasm. His cock pulses as his prostate continues to be abused, and all he can do is cry and whimper from embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry--hic. Kookie, I couldn't s-stop--hic"

"Are you embarrassed?" He smiles, "Can't even hold it in when getting fucked." Jungkook peeks over Jimin's shoulder to watch his smaller lover's body quiver and squirm, unable to hold in anything when the younger fucks it out of him without mercy. "Always love to make a mess, do you? Then acts so innocent.." He teases, hugging Jimin closer while he squeezes the blonde's throat tighter, leaning his delicate back against his muscular chest to allow Jimin to feel some leverage. He slows down the grinding of his hips when he's fucked out every single drop possible from the model's cock, just pathetically red and throbbing.

"I still didn't cum..." Jungkook sighs, stopping his movements. He keeps himself buried deep, the grip on Jimin's throat moving to his chin to guide their lips to meet in a messy, drooly kiss. He delicately pulls back to crook an eyebrow, internally beaming with pride at how utterly fucked out Jimin looks. "Move onto your back, lay in your own filth." He suddenly commands, letting go of the elder's weak body to let it fall limp onto the chair, letting his length slip out of his stretched gape. Impatient, he's already aiding him when he notices the light struggle and quivering muscles from oversensitivity-- grabbing his hips to help him to flip on his back.

"Humph." Jimin's hiccups weaken once he's on his back, sinking into the tepid pool of urine that seeps out of the cushion. He stares up at the younger man with saucer eyes--adoring stars swirling in his gaze, slowly coming down from his orgasm. The apples of his cheeks blush an endearing shade of pink, even more as the moisture spreads across his back. It's an ever-present reminder of the mess he made, all over Jungkook's studio chair--the one he sits on to do his work, and the one he reclines in to watch Jimin pose during their private shoots.

"It's wet," the model whines, wriggling to find a comfortable spot on the chair. His nose crinkles at the audible squish the fabric makes when he adjusts his posture, saturated in him, possibly ruined and unusable. His blush dissipates just a bit, because this is the state Jungkook longed to see him in. Perhaps the visual of an alluring male model in feminine lingerie was what intrigued the talented photographer. But, just like the mirrored room, everything must come crashing down until only he can build it back up in just the way he likes.

Jimin loops his arms under his knees and exposes his tender hole to his partner, offering himself as a toy to be played with. "Do you like this, Kookie?" He pulls back a bit more, earning a wet squish from the cushion below. "Seeing your butterfly, like this..."

“Good boy." Jungkook praises, nodding in approval while a long, slow swipe of his tongue coats his lips in the glossy shine of his spit. His predatory stare darkens at the mess he's created-- the vision he's been craving finally coming to life. "I love it, you're perfect." The aching, swell sensation of blood pumping through his body is prominent in his cock as he gives himself a few tempting strokes, placing one knee on the edge of the wet cushion and the other keeping leverage on the floor while caging Jimin's body beneath him. He lines up the thick, jeweled head of his cock with the model's gaping entrance with one hand, placing his other palm on Jimin's thigh to dig his fingers into the soft flesh, aiding him in holding his legs back.

"You've done so well tonight, baby.. There's no better look for you than this.. My spoiled, expensive doll.." Jungkook's dark eyes squint as he smiles softly, a contrast compared to the way he drives his hips forward to bury his cock deep once more, welcomed by the stretched, slick flesh that hugs him tightly in the form of muscle clenches. Even when spent, Jimin does what he can to please. "My messy whore." He quickly builds up the momentum, using the full potential of every silky inch of his rigid length as he drags it in and out, harder and harder, until Jimin's petite body once more begins to jolt upwards with each and every powerful thrust. "S-shit, I love your body, I can't get enough of you like this." Jungkook spits out between grunts, thriving in the wet sounds of his cock plunging into the model, along with the squishes of his small body forcibly rubbing against the wet chair.

The photographer grits his teeth, chest heaving with every shallow breath and muscles flexing to fuck into him harder, harder to release every bit of primal desire to use Jimin to chase his impending high. "G-gonna cum soon," Jungkook's hazy eyes never waver from Jimin's face, watching it distort into his favorite expressions, a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Want me to cover your pretty face with it?"

Jimin doesn't have the power to speak, lost in the trance of Jungkook's cock railing into him at a powerful rate. His aching ring of nerves pulsates with sensitivity, so sore and spent that any words spilling from his rouge bitten lips would be desperate pleas to slow down. Positively not an option. It's their anniversary. Today is a special day--the most monumental day in Jimin's life to date, above any major career move or step in the spotlight. A year ago he may have placed himself before the pleasurable and painful touch of the photographer's hands on his flesh, but that part of himself has been far from erased. Now, in this studio, in their little private world, Jimin naturally folds at the simplest suggestion from the young visionary.

"Cum on my face, baby," he whimpers, holding his knees to his chest for stability. He nods rapidly to confirm, it's exactly what he wants. "Paint your whore--fuck. Cover me in you, I n-need it...all over my skin. Record it, up close. Please, pleasee." His voice squeaks, caught off guard by how badly he truly wants this. More than anything, he knows how beautiful the final scene will look--him, covered in tacky red sinful lace, sticking to his small body with cum, sweat, and spit. Smeared with lipstick. Prettied up and ruined for one man only.

Jimin knows exactly what the photographer wants to hear, and it's obvious by the way Jungkook's eyebrows furrow in concentration, gaze burning into the vision beneath him.

"I love it when you beg like that." Jungkook praises yet again, giving the model another punishing thrust before pulling out, leaving the gaping, needy hole empty for tonight. Normally, he would never pass on an opportunity to stuff Jimin full of his cum-- but tonight, his vision took the top priority over any carnal instincts. He had this vision in mind for forever, and it is finally becoming his reality.

"Look at me." Jungkook commands while taking a step back, tugging at Jimin's bicep to pull his spent body to slide down to the floor on his knees in front of him. He hooks the pad of his finger underneath the blonde's chin, tilting his head back to look up. His other hand works his slick length quickly and roughly, ready to burst at any given moment-- he's held it so well, and he knows he will cover his doll's perfect face with everything he's got. It'll be the ultimate visual of his fantasies; Jimin, the picture perfect man in shambles, ruined makeup and covered in various body fluids willingly, merely to serve and keep the photographer satisfied and happy. Maybe even excited for the rewards that come with compliance. "Pretty... So pretty, and all mine, hahh.." Jungkook hisses through labored breaths, clammy chest heaving as he looks down at Jimin's lips, rubbing the jeweled tip of his cock against them, stroking his cock purposefully to make a show out of the way his tattooed hand effortlessly glides thanks to every little ounce of slick fluids his lover provided. "Keep looking at m-me...fuck, I'm gonna--gah, cum." He moans louder to let Jimin know how much he's enjoying this, and the visual from both their perspectives must be otherworldly. Both men are utterly devoted and obsessed with the other.

Just as Jungkook's hip move to fuck into his hand, they stutter when his orgasm hurls over the edge without much of a warning. A drawn out, deep groan rumbles from the back of his throat, and it feels like his eyes would roll to the back of his head if he didn't intentionally keep himself so focused on watching the way thick, hot ropes of cum began to paint the model's delicate features one by one. His hand squeezes his cock, thighs tensing and relaxing between every twitching throb of his orgasm. He spits curses and praise, moans and whines, not stopping until he's made sure Jimin's skin is an entire mess, glazed with his release.

Silken droplets of pearly cum slip down Jimin's cheek and tickle the pert pout of his lips. Slowly, he licks away what he can, peeking open an eye and giving a longing look of devotion. The salty release tingles on the tip of his tongue, which he savors with a low hum. He doesn't need to ask to know how much the photographer enjoys this sight. He knows that from this angle, he's a masterpiece, commemorating a year of servitude in the most filthy way imaginable. The low glow of the recording camera reminds him of his duty, to show off his final look--a far departure from the stunning, sinful vision he admired in the mirror. Heels are scattered on the floor, stained with a light streak of blood. Stockings are torn ragged, and bralette is askew and hanging loose. With no way of truly knowing, Jimin assumes he must look a complete and utter wreck. Still, remnants of lipstick stain him in misplaced splotches, smearing down his lips and onto his chin. The ruddy makeup appears to be even brighter and remarkable under the luminous sheen of cum that slips off his chiseled jaw. Jimin lifts to his knees and palms at Jungkook's thighs to draw him closer. "Come here."

Jungkook mindlessly follows Jimin's quiet order, stepping closer before dropping to his knees in front of him, meeting his hazy eyes on face level. He can't do anything but admire his work as if in a blurry trance, and the boiling adoration in his gaze is evident.

"I'm here, baby." He says quietly, glancing over at the camera. He had gotten his shot, the visuals of everything he'd been hungering for now captured in an eternal digital memory. A sense of pride and content fills his chest as he looks back at Jimin, reaching out to swipe his thumbs underneath his makeup smeared eyes. He takes another longing moment to just look, slowly inching closer until he finds the model's pillowy lips with his own. He kisses him gently once, twice before pulling back.

"You did amazing. I got the perfect shot, and you looked so gorgeous." He rubs Jimin's bruised neck slowly, examining the purple and red marks, "Did you enjoy it a lot? I had this planned for a while.. And it came out even better than I anticipated.."

The blonde closes the distance again to kiss Jungkook tenderly. A shaky hand cups the photographer's face while the other mindlessly holds him at the waist for balance. The room shifts subtly, and Jimin breathes into the motion, tilting his head to follow the natural part of their mouths moving as one.

"Mhm," he hums again, indulging in the comfort and warmth of Jungkook's touch. He needs it after, always, to feel like a precious doll again. Like clockwork, they come together into a slow comedown, feeling their united heartbeat as the tips of their fingers brush against damp skin. "Happy anniversary," Jimin smiles into a sweet and short kiss. The tentative hold on his neck draws the model in more and he allows the younger man to indulge in his creation. He allows it until the warm ropes of cum begin to tack to the round apples of his cheeks, and the slight discomfort of his muscles begin to set in.

"So sticky and wet now, Kookie. Just how you like," Jimin smirks, pleased he could once again fulfill his love's vision. "I may need some help getting out of this though." Jimin hints at the soaked, ruined lingerie that still clings to his torso.

"I'm so happy. Thank you for taking me so well, baby." Jungkook places one last rewarding kiss on Jimin's sticky cheek before he gets up on his feet, bringing his lover up with him to lift him up into his strong arms. He holds him close, walking over to the camera to turn the recording off and heads towards the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, I have another surprise for you." He smiles through his statement, placing Jimin on the toilet seat to wait while he draws a hot bath. He turns to Jimin, reaching behind his torso to unclasp the bralette and discard it on the floor, then resumes to tug at the panties to get them off. Every action of his is tender now, the aftercare more than important to ensure that Jimin is properly rewarded for doing so well and taking every rougher part of him-- so he deserves the affection as well. "Come." He coaxes lowly, undressing properly as well until the tub is filled, and takes Jimin's hand in his to guide him into the water, seating them with Jimin's small frame practically in his lap. A soft sigh pushes past his lips from the relaxing warmth surrounding them. "Wash your face off first, don't want your eyes to get irritated."

Jimin cups the warm bathwater in his hands and stares at the faint shadow of his face cast over it. He pauses a moment, adjusting to the comfort of being supported from behind--feeling small and cared for, then brings the water up to cleanse. The warmth soothes over his soft skin, and after only one splash, he can feel the layers of grime shluff off. His palms tinge a faint red. Lipstick rubs away, followed by other various bodily fluids, some of which need a couple passes before it is completely removed. The work to remove it only makes Jimin appreciate the work Jungkook put into planning such an unexpected night.

"I never get tired of this," Jimin coos, bring another palmful of water up to wash over his face, "Taking baths together...it's one of my favorite things." Baths--such a normal and almost childlike experience. It's something that brings the small model pleasant ripples of nostalgia, like it was only yesterday they first shared the simple experience of cleaning one another. It's centering, to wash away the filth of the day and watch it slide down the drain until it's gone completely. Jimin reclines into the tender embrace of his love and allows him to rub soapy water over his body, moaning gently the cleaner he feels.

"One year," the blonde sighs, closing his eyes, "What would I have done if I never met you?" He tilts his neck to get a good look at the younger man. "Life would be so...boring."

"Indeed." Jungkook agrees, the toothy grin on his face just as childish and endearing as when they first met eye to eye in his studio. He looks back at Jimin with just as much-- if not more admiration swirling in his doe eyes. He cranes his neck to kiss the elder's forehead, gentle hands smoothing over his petite body to rub off tonight's events. "But it was fate." He adds, hands moving up to comb his fingers through the blonde curls after adding his familiar shampoo into his palms, massaging his tender scalp with the comfort of his scent.

"Sooner or later, we would've found each other." A moment of silence follows, all that is heard is Jungkook cleaning Jimin's hair while the latter basks in the aftercare.. until he speaks again. Whether Jimin heard it or not, remains a mystery.

"I would've made sure of it."

© sombreboy 2021. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[1kook]

commercial break: twelve

this is part of my netflix & chill series a prelude to part 10 <3

SUMMARY Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.  WARNING none !! we r safe MISC jk and doyeon mortal enemies, nearly everyone is mentioned, thank u namjoon, jk loves oc, the end <3 jimin makes his first appearance O_O WC 1.4k

NOTES we just having fun with it!!! jk’s friendship with everyone else <3

Doyeon says you have fat fingers, and Jungkook takes great offense at that. “Who cares about the size— __ has pretty hands, idiot,” he mutters, and almost wants to feel bad about being so childish in the middle of this jewelry store. But Kim Doyeon is a pest— a fly who just won’t stop buzzing by his ear with each ring they look at, and she has the audacity to look disgusted with him now. Jungkook very much regrets inviting her along. She exudes very similar energy to the popular girls he used to go to high school, the ones that would only talk to him because he was friends with Namjoon and wanted Jungkook to help them into his pants. Lo and behold, Kim Doyeon is very acquainted with whatever’s inside Namjoon’s pants. She hits the mark perfectly. 

“Oh, definitely get her a rock. Like, one of those obnoxiously bing and shiny rings, maybe?” And she never stops talking. 

Jungkook hasn’t had to spend this much time with her in months, the last time being Namjoon’s birthday when you had tasked the two of them to go pick up the cake together. Not only was Doyeon adamant on passenger-seat driving — “Turn here,” she says a moment too late, “no wait, here — but she had been an absolute heathen outside in the bakery parking lot. 

(“Okay, now take a picture of me by this wall,” she says, artfully holding up the box of cake in two hands, dark hair flipped over her shoulder. Jungkook doesn’t know how to tell her that there is no significant difference between this brick wall and the brick wall they just took a picture by two minutes before.)

Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. It would be him and Namjoon, and maybe Namjoon’s blunt roommate Jimin if he was feeling down for it, but that was pretty much it. Even Taehyung, a very close and dearly cherished friend, had not made the cut. He was too lazy, didn’t offer much concrete advice other than the occasional, “that one looks cool” comment. 

The great thing about Namjoon is that he’s highly educated on just about every aspect of life; he knows the best hairstylists — “You can always ask Hobi,” Namjoon offers, “he’s married.” — and the best lawyers — “Oh, and Yoongi can help with your prenup.” — for no reason other than the fact he is Namjoon. 

The bad thing about Namjoon is that he’s dead set on including Doyeon. “Doyeon is ___’s best friend,” he says calmly one night after dinner. You’re at your friend’s house this weekend, something about a midnight revenge plot against a shitty ex-boyfriend. He isn’t too clear on the details. “You have to let her in on it.” It’s been decades since Jungkook last stomped his foot in annoyance, but the urge wells up strongly in him now. 

Jimin is on the couch. “Oooh, you don’t like her?” he asks, flipping his platinum hair away from his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t answer, only because it would be rude to confirm it in front of Namjoon. Jimin presses on. “Is she, like, an evil best friend?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says at the same time Namjoon says, “no.” Jimin’s got this highly intrigued smirk on his face, and Jungkook hates how similar it is to your own mischievous grins. He’s glad you haven’t met Jimin, mostly because he knows you have your mean moments and meeting Park Jimin would only exacerbate them. Namjoon frowns anyway. 

Jimin says, “oh, you guys should duel. Like, whoever knows __ the best gets to keep her.” 

Namjoon jumps to stop that thought. “No— they’re not gonna duel, Jimin. ___ isn’t an object to win,” he scolds, and Jungkook nods along agreeingly, pretends he hadn’t seriously considered Jimin’s idea for a solid ten seconds. 

Long story short, Doyeon has tagged along to this jeweler and the past two jewelers to make sure Jungkook doesn’t give you “an ugly ring,” as she claims. 

“Wait, what if you get her this one,” she says, on the other side of the store. Jungkook sighs, but hurries over anyway. Hey, he’s here to see some rings, okay? 

Doyeon is looking at the most ugly ring Jungkook has ever seen, a mix of a braid and a snake, that is just too… not you. “This is hideous,” he says, disregarding all and any notions of being polite because at this point, she had to be pulling his leg. “___ would hate this.” 

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “Oh, ‘cause you know ___ sooo well, don’t you?” she snarks. 

Jungkook levels her with a glare. “I do, actually,” he says, “that’s literally what made me want to marry her.” And because Kim Doyeon sparks a very immature flame within him, he feels the need to add, “I probably know ___ better than you,” to top it off. 

Doyeon scoffs. “No, you don’t— you will never know her like I do, you overgrown fungus,” she spits. “Me and ___ have exceeded any level of trust you could ever hope to have, a friendship forged on the grounds of love and equal values. A nerd like you can’t even begin to fathom the absolutely crazy shit we’ve shared with each other.” 

If he was eight years younger, Jungkook is certain he would have gone home and cried. Mid-twenties Jungkook, on the other hand, has had one too many rodeos with mean girls — he’s dating a retired high school cheerleader, for goodness sake, an apex predator if he’s ever seen one — and will not stand for it. Besides, Jungkook has received your blessing to check Doyeon into place if ever she crosses the line. 

(“Sometimes you just gotta knock her down, maybe call her a dumbass if necessary,” you had said one night after Doyeon had unceremoniously barged into your apartment to monopolize your evening plans with Jungkook. Now it’s nearing midnight and as much as Jungkook wants to spend time with you, he’s deathly tired. “Just tell her off.” 

Jungkook frowns, snuggles closer until he’s so tightly pressed against your body that he can’t tell whose heartbeat is whose. He likes it like that.

There’s just something about your annoying best friend that activates this feeling in Jungkook’s chest. If anything, Jungkook imagines it is similar to that of having a bratty little sister. But Doyeon as his sister? He rolls his eyes so far back he swears he sees his own brain. 

It’s childish and petty and unlike Jungkook — or at least, unlike the Jungkook he knows you think he is. Which is flattering, to be thought of so highly, but sometimes Jungkook wonders where on earth you got that idea from. Because whenever he’s around you, Jungkook becomes increasingly immature, grows so greedy and needy, desperate for anything you have to give him. 

And because he’s so immature, he settles on tattling to you instead, “she called me a sweaty meat bag,” to which you snort in amusement.) 

For now, he calls on the spirit of the most mature person he knows (Namjoon). Jungkook takes one last look at his millionth silver band of the day before turning to address the Wicked Witch of the West. “I might not know ___ like you do, but that’s fine,” he says calmly. “We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together anyway.” 

In front of him, Doyeon’s eye twitches and Jungkook senses he has won. For now. See, the thing is, Jungkook knows that using Namjoon-level logic against her is foolproof. For one, Namjoon’s logic is always solid. But also, as much as Jungkook despises Kim Doyeon with nearly every fiber in his being… ultimately, they share a common interest: cherishing you. 

Had it not been for your existence in their lives, Jungkook doubts he would have ever spent his Saturday morning at a jeweler with the likes of Kim Doyeon, especially not after she had spent ten minutes in the Starbucks drive-thru ordering the most bizarrely complicated drink. But deep in his heart Jungkook knows that she loves you, though not as much as him, and he respects the fact she is willing to accompany him in the name of buying you a beautiful engagement ring. It’s a friendship solidarity he admires, and for that he stomps down his childish pride to answer in a way that would impress, well, you. 

(Even when you’re not here, Jungkook always wants to impress you.)

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “I should’ve never taken ___ to that party.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr

[cowboyjen68]

Hi there. I'm at some crossroads right now. My girlfriend and I are 17/18 and making some plans for life. It's been the general idea that I'll follow her to to city for college and I'll get roommates and work, like I've been doing- and when she graduates, then we'll live together. It's becoming clear to me that we actually want very different things, and I've been conceding and saying yes to the different plans and ideas for life and future because I love her. It makes me happy to see her happy and comfortable. And it's not just about the future, it's about now- in the things we do and places we go and what we talk about and the special things I do for her- it's whatever she wants, it's about what will make her comfortable and happy, and often it's at the expense of my own comfort. But it never bothered me before because it makes me feel good to see her feel good. I realized recently, that she never does any of this stuff for me. She's honestly quite forgetful of anything important for me- even my birthday, and she's not very considerate or lenient of me.

It's got me wondering if she actually thinks of me as much as I think of her? I buy her things that remind me of her, I send her pretty pictures, I send her random texts of my love because I'm thinking of her 24/7. Does she not think of me 24/7? Why does she never go out of her way to make me happy? Does she not think of my comfort? Is she not willing to forgo her own comfort to see me happy because it brings her joy? And I'm not talking about breaking her boundaries. When we're walking the dog and her feet hurt, I will take the leash and carry her on my back- but she can never do anything like that for me. She really is the most forgetful person, so I don't want to accuse her of not liking me as much as I like her, but it honestly feels like she must never think about me.

There's also been plenty of incidents where she doesn't think of me even while she's actively thinking of me. My half brother and I have a strained relationship because of issues of growing up with a bipolar mother with substance abuse issues, and then in turn he has bipolar and suffers with substance abuse issues- it's difficult for me to be near him, and I asked her to accompany me to his birthday party because of it. She said yes, I felt more secure and not as nervous to go, then last minute she bails out saying shes actually going to the movies with her mom. She didn't even ask me how it went after. Stuff like this happens all the time.

I started maybe thinking she's just not for me, maybe we're too different. Maybe she needs to grow up a little more before she's ready for a relationship. But now, thinking of other factors, I'm ridiculously wondering if she's even actually a lesbian or not???

Does she behave this way because she sees me as a friend and not as a girlfriend? She's never had a girlfriend before. She's had boyfriends and they've done all sorts of stuff together, but she struggles to even kiss me on the cheek without giggling. We've never done anything together, and I'm not in a rush, I'm not going to rush her, we don't even talk about it. But now I'm wondering if it's because she actually doesn't like girls.

When I was five I knew I would marry a woman someday, I've always been lesbian. I have the experience of growing up and knowing I was lesbian before I knew the word, and the problems that came with family who doesn't support that. It was tough. She doesn't seem to have any of that experience, it almost seems like from how she talks, she found being lesbian, instead of born being lesbian, if you know what I mean. Like she found it through media and whatnot.

I don't understand if she actually likes me or not or if she just likes the label of lesbian. She's in the gender sexuality alliance group at school, and I'm not. I don't really like those groups or the people in them. It's like they want be to "feel queer" and have gay be my whole personality - I don't feel like any of that, I just feel like me. Natural and normal and I have hobbies and interests. The group makes me uncomfortable. But she's a part of it, I guess that's her safe space. But her and her group friends only talk about LGBT+ stuff and can get aggressive really easily over the dumbest things. They like to find phobia where there isn't any, and they like the create problems on the basis of "educating people". She's a sensitive person, I know, and I've always just thought she needs some more perspective. She's lucky to not have endured certain life experiences that many homosexual people have. I just separate myself from the group. But I'm wondering if she just likes the label. Does she just like the idea of being lesbian, for the sake of the group and the friends and the life? She likes to talk about how she's a queer person all the time but doesn't actually seem to be lesbian.

Do you think this is just me trying to find any reason to ignore that fact that she just doesn't like me? She could be lesbian and just not like me, but why would she date me if she doesn't like me? I don't understand.

Because I'm in love with her. But I don't even know at this point if she's attracted to girls or not, let alone me.

How do I even bring it up? There's the issue of us not being alike, we want different things and a different future, and she could just be a bad girlfriend- but I'm going to freak out of she isn't even lesbian!

I don't want to hurt her feelings or make a problem or whatever. I can't believe I'm even considering the fact that she could be fake lesbian. Like what does that even mean? Am I just projecting internalized homophobia I've always struggled with?

I need advice. Me and some of those kids in the group are the only lesbian people I know but I can't go to them obviously. My family isn't volatile anymore but they won't talk about this with me. It's pretty much don't ask don't tell at my house. You've been on the planet longer than me, you've had more years of being a lesbian and being in relationships - what do you think about all this, even with the limited information I've given you?

Sorry for the delay. I wanted to give your ask a little thought.

At 17/18 you are still very young, although that is not to discount your love or your ability to be in a committed and loving relationship. Or hers.

I could definitely speculate on her sexuality and her maturity level, her insecurity in her sexuality. I remember in my youth over reacting to opression that was just not there on behalf of my friends who were out when I was not. I was appalled if someone so much as looked at us sideways. Immaturity makes us over reactive and very sensitive.

Many women, bi or lesbians or straight like the "Idea" of being in a relationship with a woman better than the reality. Too many myths of the soft and tender nature of two women as opposed to dealing with men or boys.They sometimes forget we are real people with real feelings and those feelings are emotional and sexual. We are not pets. Or playthings. 

Here is the truth of it and what is all boils down to at the end of the day. You don’t owe her your happiness or more of your time. If you are not happy already, this early.. or, in fact, at any point in a relationship and she is not going to change, it is time to get out. To leave, To break up. 

She is forgetful at best and selfish and neglectful at worst. You deserve mutual attraction and like values with your romantic partner. She needs to figure out what she wants or needs and you do not need to be there while she does that. 

You don’t need to give her every reason as to why it is not working. You can be honest but keep it simple. Things just are not working and you need to move on. You can explain that she is not able to give you all that you need in a relationship or just leave it as “things aren’t working out”. 

I know it is hard to love someone and let her go. But if you don’t you will continue to feel neglected, stressed, sad and eventually you will resent her for putting you in that emotional state. You will heal quickly and I think you will find that being single (not with her) is much less taxing on you than constantly having to feel like you need more and can’t get it or that you are asking too much. To be clear, you are not asking too much, she just isn’t the woman for you. 

[asiodi]

— LATE NIGHT LOVING —

pairing(s) ➜ asahi azumane x gn! reader

warnings ➜ fluff, unedited, written late.

description ➜ late night calls w/ asahi.

𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 ➜ because he’s been living in my head rent free <3 as you can tell, since i wrote this around 3am… 🧍

there has been many nights you laid awake, staring up at the ceiling, mind drawing to a blank. no thoughts consumed or haunted you, it was simply a blank space that stole your unconscious heaven from your fingertips, not granting you the permission to close your eyes and sleep till it was well into the new day. you never understood why, nor really cared to look too far into the issue of your sleeping habits, simply letting out a frustrated huff and continuing to lay there till your mind finally folded into sleep’s temptation.

but that doesn’t mean that no one noticed your sleeping problem. in fact, many noticed the tired rings around your eyes, but none were quite as concerned as your lover.

“you know, you can talk to me about these problems, right?” his voice calmly replayed in your head as you gripped your phone, squinting in it’s illuminated screen. the time read around one in the morning, yet his words continued to bounce around your head, accompanied with the gentle squeeze to your forearm he had given after the small, comforting chat, a comforting half-hug before heading off to classes.

you huffed, rolling your eyes to yourself. c’mon, you reasoned, he probably wouldn’t want to be called in the middle of the night for your dumb butt not being able to fall asleep. then again, you also knew that if he found out again, then you’d be forced to see that expression on his face again; eyebrows furrowed, lips twitched into a small, concerned frown — one that made your heart threateningly squeeze inside your chest, the kind that made you wish you could take it all back just to keep that expression of sincere worry and concern off of his face.

you swiped up into his contact, and hovered over the face time button. you did briefly consider giving up and suffering alone, but again, his concerned, frowning face popped up into your mind, and that was persuasion enough to let your thumb tap the glowing green button.

the phone rang for a few minutes, waiting for the other end to pick up.

suddenly, you were greeted with a dark screen, though his messy bed-head was visible from the bright glow of the phone’s screen — most likely forgot to turn the brightness down, poor soul. he squinted, grunting, before asahi sent a sleepy tired to your equally, if not more sleep-deprived face. “what’s going on, (y/n)?”

asahi held onto the phone, but his head laid back down on his pillow, cheek smoshing up against the pillowcase fabric, his hair hilariously messy and sprawled about. you would’ve squealed at the cute sight before you if you weren’t so tired. you sleepily smiled back, already laying down in your own bed, simply place your phone to sit up against your lamp on the bedside table, turning to face the phone.

“i couldn’t sleep.” you informed, watching him yawn before nodding. “wanna talk about it?” he offered, before quickly adding on, “or just talk, maybe it’ll help you fall asleep?” asahi suggested, trying to help in any way he could think of. knowing that he was willing to do this for you made you want to tear up — how did you deserve such an adorable, thoughtful boyfriend?

the night was spent talking, albeit tiredly, with your lovely asahi. some tired laughs were shared, and no loving gaze was missed between you two. the moments were precious, and eventually, as two am rolled around, you found yourself considerably more tired than most other nights, and eventually hung up, seeing asahi himself was about to fall asleep anyways — no matter how much he tried to deny it.

©/asiodi.tumblr — all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to this blog. do not steal, copy, repost, or profit off of my posts. do not translate any of my posts without my permission.

[lick-me-lennon22]

Trans Man!Reader X Beatles headcanons/How they'd support a trans (FTM) partner + help them through dysphoria 💙💙💙

(lengthy title, I know ^^' this amazing request is from @anonymous-blanket ! they originally asked for how the Beatles would help a trans [FTM] reader through dysphoria, but I sort of expanded it to add general headcanons- I hope you don't mind :) 💞)

⚠️⚠️⚠️DISCLAIMERS:⚠️⚠️⚠️

- I myself am a cis woman and this is solely based on the experiences my trans guy friends have been so kind as to share with me, as well as some of my own research on gender dysphoria and grounding techniques

- this is NOT entirely accurate to the 60s or 70s

- I have written these with the assumption that the reader has already come out and has transitioned or is currently transitioning; with that being said, none of the lads would ever out you or disclose your identity before you are ready to do so yourself/without your permission!

- all of the boys would respect your identity and address you by your name and preferred pronouns !!!

- please feel free to (kindly) correct me if any of this post is offensive or incorrect! I have written these headcanons with nothing but love and respect for the trans community ♡

Paul:

when you come out to Paul (if you were together before you began your transition), he's so proud of you for being your authentic self and so glad you're willing to share something like that with him

he immediately offers to take you out shopping and buy you a more masculine/comfortable wardrobe, as well as items such as boxers and binders if you want them

whenever you're up for it, Paul does your eyebrows and some masc contouring (if you ever want him to)- he's quite good with makeup, as he often does his own!

along with (of course) using your correct name and preferred pronouns, he showers you with gender-affirming nicknames and compliments ("my handsome man," "my prince," "dashing," "Adonis," etc.)

if you ever feel dysphoric about sitting down to pee, Paul reminds you that he also pees sitting down (hc)- "It's just more comfortable that way, no shame in it," he shrugs

he makes it a point to remind you how strong and handsome you are often

if you're having a particularly bad day and your dysphoria feels suffocating:

Paul respects your boundaries if you want to be left alone or don't want to be touched

he stays close to you and holds your hand if/as soon as you're okay with it

he tries to take your mind off of your discomfort and ground you by serenading you with your favorite songs

he listens attentively if you just want to vent, and gives you plenty of reassurance and words of comfort/validation if you need them

Paul reminds you that however you want to present is valid and that you are still, of course, a man- regardless of idiots who may tell you otherwise

"How can you not look like a man...? You are a man, love" ♡

John:

when you come out to John (if you were together before you began your transition), he talks you through everything you're feeling and listens intently when you share your experience with him

he suggests going to therapy if you feel like it'd be beneficial (he attends therapy sessions as well- hc)

he immediately assures you that he'll beat the living daylights out of anyone who dares to deadname or misgender you

John (without an ounce of subtlety) corrects anybody who uses the wrong pronouns to refer to you

he makes sure you know and always remember that your identity is valid

if you're comfortable with it, John places pride pins on his leather and denim jackets- regardless of the comments people make

he will absolutely go off on bigoted and closed-minded interviewers/reporters who question your identity or your relationship

John accompanies you into the men's restroom if you're nervous (and if you want him to) and will tell off/uppercut anyone who even looks at you the wrong way

if you're having a particularly bad day and your dysphoria feels suffocating:

John reminds you that your body doesn't dictate your gender and that your identity is 100% valid

he offers his clothes for you to wear if that would make you more comfortable

he helps ground you and distract you from your discomfort by putting on a silly movie for you to watch (together, if you'd like)

John carries his/your cat into your bedroom and places them in your lap for cuddles and purrs

he reminds you of what a hot, sexy stud you are ;)

"A... woman?? That's the dumbest thing I've ever 'eard. You can't 'look like a woman,' you ain't one- you're a man, love"

John tells you he can't wait until the day you become his husband ♡

George:

when you come out to George (if you were in a relationship before you began your transition), he sits patiently and listens as you share your feelings and experience with him

on his next trip out to the store, he buys doubles of all the masculine-scented hygiene products he usually purchases (body wash, deodorant, shampoo, etc.), as well as some extra boxers in your size in case you'd want them

when he arrives back home, he wordlessly places the items in your shared bathroom/dresser so you have access to all of them, but won't have to ask if you aren't comfortable enough to yet

he's very mindful about using your correct name and pronouns from the moment you come out to him

George supports you if you're on T and gives you daily reminders, or advocates for you if you aren't and want to be

he supports you equally if you don't want to start T at all!

he reminds you that your presentation doesn't invalidate your identity

he refers to you as "my boyfriend" or "my man," and tells you that you look sexy, dashing, and handsome ;)

if you're having a particularly bad day and your dysphoria feels suffocating:

George respects whatever you want to do and makes sure you're as comfy as possible if you just want to stay holed up in your bedroom for a while

he fetches you some comfy, baggy clothes in case you feel like disappearing into them for a bit, and offers you some of his clothes if you'd prefer them

he'll bring your pet into your room for some extra love and cuddle time

George will be considerate of your boundaries if you don't want to be touched, but stay by your side if you'll allow him

he's taught you how to meditate and will practice meditation with you as a grounding/relaxation strategy

"Remember, darling- your body doesn't dictate your gender. You are a man no matter what" ♡

Ringo:

when you come out to Ringo (if you were in a relationship before you began your transition), he is elated and relieved that you feel comfortable enough to share something like that with him

the next time you leave the house without Ringo, by the time you've arrived back home, he's set your entire dining room up like a gender reveal party: complete with an It's a Boy! banner and everything blue he could find (it's overkill, but he means well)

on the table is a care package he's bought and assembled for you

in it, he's included plenty of masc-scented soap/deoderant/shampoo, boxers, a pricey and great-quality binder (if you've expressed that you want to bind), and a very thoughtful handwritten and decorated card

from then on and if/when you're ready, Ringo makes a point of (re)introducing you to everyone (and I mean everyone) as his boyfriend- you both love the sound of it!

he'll give you the most genuine, validating compliments out of nowhere

for example: the first time you watch your favorite show together after you've come out to him, Ringo admits that he's always thought you looked/sounded a lot like one of the main characters (who happens to be male)

if you're having a particularly bad day and your dysphoria feels suffocating:

if you're still alright with being touched, Ringo smothers you in one of his famous bear hugs and tells you that everything is okay and you're no less valid for feeling this way about your body

he brings your favorite snack/treat into your room for you to eat and enjoy

he'll sit on the bed and engage in honest conversation with you if you feel like venting; if not he brings you all of the pillows, blankets, and/or stuffed animals in the house- as well as any clothes you'd like to change into

he showers you with gender-affirming nicknames and compliments: "my handsome man," "my prince/king," "heartthrob," "hunk," "stud"... some of them silly, but all of them sincere

Ringo is sure to remind you that no matter what your body looks like or how you're feeling about it in this moment (and no matter what bigoted asswipes may say to either of you), you are just as valid and masculine as any other man:

"Because that's what you are, my love- a man!" ♡

[cosmiclatte28]

Comfort (Yuta x you)

a/n : WAIST has gotten a lot of love! Thank you everyone..and this is just another scenario similar to that one. Sorry for being away and unable to post stories as frequent as before, I was caught up with hws and tests. plus my finals are coming. 

So, here is another domestic Yuta... to the Yuta fanfic lovers out there I know @yutahoes @ailoveyuta @2-3-t-i

It's stressful. February is the shortest month of the year, yet it is the most frustrating one, at least for you.

Midterm has just ended and you're drained to the point where you've been lacking sleeps just to finish reading all the chapters, stay awake with coffees to concentrate on the test, and totally holding your scream back when the test ended and the score was not satisfying.

You were even more tired when the materials you read during your sleeping schedule did not make it to the questions.

You thought once the paper is turned over, you can just fly home and jump on your bed to sleep.

No, you have to finish some more labs, homework’s, and finals are coming!

You have been laying down on the sofa, face down on your belly. You did not hear it when the door clicks, and your boyfriend comes to visit you.

"Oh? Nani?" Yuta asks to himself when he steps into the not so tidy room. He knows this small studio room you rent by heart. He always love how you're able to keep the small area clean and tidy the room well to make it spacious. But not today, he's surprised to find your scattered papers and books on the dining table and the study table. Your laptop is still on, and the living room table is messy with some clothes.

Yuta walks silently to the pantry, checking on your trash and refrigerator to check if you've been eating well or not.

His guess was right, you did not eat properly. His eyes scan through the highlighted textbook pages and your neat notes. Yuta sighs as he calmly puts his phone down and begins sorting your notes and piling them up into one stack.

He sees you on the sofa, looking lifeless. You must be asleep, or else you'd already bombarded him with the story of your hectic week.

Yuta just smile when he remembers how he used to work hard like you back then in high school days. Right now, he is an idol and his training is different than yours. He didn't have papers this much, but he is also working as hard as regular students.

Yuta continues his journey to the living room, cleaning up the mess you made and gets on his knee to watch you sleep.

He pushes your hairs away and gasps when his fingers touch your moist warm cheeks and wet eyelashes.

You're crying in your sleep? Or you cried yourself to sleep?

He glances to the clock, it's past dinner already, somewhere around nine. Appropriate for bedtime considering you must've lacked sleep for the last week.

"(Y/n)~" Yuta softly whispers into your ear, then leans in to kiss your head slowly to wake you up.

You stir in your sleep and blink several times before peeking through your hairs to find your boyfriend already looking at you.

You yawn "Ah Yuta- you're-" you pause yawning again "-here."

You try to push yourself from laying down, but there's not much energy from you and you remain slumped on the chair.

Yuta just gives you a small smile before hoisting you up, so you're seated on the sofa properly.

He sits next to you, and you automatically lean to his side.

"How long have you been here?" Your question is still slurred, just like when people get up from sleep.

"Thirty minutes? You're deep asleep on the sofa. Didn't I tell you to sleep on the bed. You'll get sick if you sleep here." He rubs his hand lovingly through your long hair.

You snuggle closer to him and just hum.

Your emotion lately hasn’t been great, something super melancholy is running in your body. Was it the lack of sleep? Homesickness? Missing Yuta? Or just the pressure of performing well in class?

Yuta senses how the atmosphere is down. He regularly comes here to visit you to recharge himself by listening to your lively rants and gossips. It's something new to find you-the battery- to be this sad.

Yuta takes the queue that this is his time to take care of you.

"Are you okay?" He starts by asking you the simple question you always ask him.

You shake your head. Your body is already facing him, one of your leg is folded on the sofa while the other is dangling on the edge. Your arms have already hugged his slightly toned arm and your cheek is on his shoulder.

Yuta clicks his tongue and gently pulls you up his lap. You make yourself comfortable straddling him and lean your face to his chest.

Your small petite figure makes it super easy to fit fully into Yuta's body and you feel yourself calm down as you listen to his calm steady heartbeats.

"Mind to share?" He rakes his fingers through your hair while his other hand is secured around the small of your back. Just resting there to tell you, he is here, and you are safe with him.

You stay silent and remain frozen. You want to share, but you don’t know what’s making you feel this way.

Your eyes focus on the tiny fleece on Yuta’s sweater and your hand fumble with his soft sweater.

You lean into his warm embrace, exhaling all of your tension away and fall completely limp to him.

“I don’t know what is bothering me. Everything just-“ you pause, trying to find the right words, “pile up and suddenly I burst into tears and slept.” You pout, your finger begins to trace random lines on Yuta’s back when you feel his thumb starts grazing over your bare waist. Ah Yuta and his habit, you may be honest and admit you miss this feeling.

“Well, that was you not realizing you’re holding your emotion back too much because you’re too focused on something else.” The Japanese man in his calm deep voice whispers into your ear.

You hum once again and feel soft kisses on your shoulder.

Yuta knows he cannot get things out of your heart if you’re not willing to tell him, or like what you admit… you just don’t know which one is affecting you.

So, he sticks to his one and only way of comforting you, by staying with you and letting you know he is here for you.

His big hand moves from only holding your waist to hugging it and he brings his other free hand to your neck. Gently he pulls you closer to his warmth, you melt yourself into Yuta, into your comfort, your safe place, your home.

Inhaling his scent can already help you breathe better.

Feeling his touch makes you sure he is here and he won’t leave you.

Melting into his body, makes you smile at how perfectly fitting both of you are.

Having Yuta for yourself is like winning the lottery and you’re more than glad to exchange everything in this world for you to be with him again.

You just need Yuta, hugging you, tracing circles on your waist, breathing next to your ear, letting you listen to his heart beat, and kissing your shoulder bit by bit to make yourself feel better and ready.

Yes, ready for a new day, a new chance, a new page.

“Thank you for coming tonight.” you finally broke the comfortable silence.

You pull yourself away from his warmth, thinking that he must feel numb already keeping your body on top of his for almost an hour.

You’re like a koala hugging a tree for dear life!

Yuta smiles and you feel the night is no longer gloomy, not when you have your starry man here with you. He pushes your hair back to your ear and pecks your lips “You could always call me anytime! I’ll find my way back to you.”

You nod “I know, you’re one call away.” You smile, this time it is nothing forced. It’s a natural smile that always appear when you talk about Yuta.

He suddenly wraps your arms around his shoulder and places your legs over his waist. With one swift, he has you in the air hanging on his body.

“Now that you’re smiling already, your body is cold but your face is warm. You’ve skipped meals!” he scolds you as he walks to the kitchen with you on his body. You feel like a little kid getting scolded by their mother.

You blush “How am I warm and cold at the same time?”

He gets flustered at that question but shrugs it off “Your face is warm, I don’t want you to fall sick just because I let you sleep without a proper meal. Your fingertips are cold. How could you skip meals?” he puts you down on the chair and goes to check your food supply.

“Great, you just have eggs and oh ramen.” He picks up two packages and starts boiling the water.

“I’ll bring you to a proper meal tomorrow morning. No rejection or refutation, you need to be healthy despite being so engrossed in studying.”

You nod “Okay mom-“ you teasingly joke with him.

He giggles “You’re glad I am not your real mom, or I’d already whip you for not eating properly.”

“Actually, if you don’t mind… please accompany me to do grocery shopping tomorrow.” You glance to the empty kitchen racks. You usually have some snacks or popcorns ready, some booster drinks and fun candies. It’s all gone during test prep and you’re too tired to restock them, but now that you have Yuta who can help you carry the things up to the room… you might as well use his help right?

“I love you, Yuta.” You suddenly back hug him and press your cheek into his back. He was way taller, you cannot lean your chin on his shoulder, so this is cute enough.

Your eyes cannot leave how his strong body, but pretty figure looks perfect in an apron, cooking ramen.

He puts the fork down and turns his body to face you. He cups your face and kisses you softly “I love you too, now don’t go too hard on yourself okay? Always know that you have me and I will always be here for you (Y/n)~”

You nod “I am also always here for you, Yuta!”

end

thank you! cheer up and hold on :D tomorrow will be better :D

have a nice day/night

[astaroth1357]

How to Calm Your Demon Boyfriend; Vol 1

Tame Demons, Save Lives

Notice: Due to an impending lawsuit for libel and misinformation, Mammoney, Inc. has filed for bankruptcy. All past guides from their company have been revised and re-released. All future printing will be handled Solo Man, Press.

It's bound to happen to everyone, right? You’re just trying to enjoy a nice night with your cherished hellspawn then suddenly something sets them off! Now they're on the verge of wrecking humanity and all you're trying to do is flag down the waiter for more breadsticks…! Well have no fear! Consider this your handy guide to How to Calm Your Demon Boyfriend, tailor-made to whatever model you just so happen to be attached to! Follow our advice and you'll know just how to turn your enraged creature of damnation right back into the affectionate lover you know them to be!

This volume only covers how calm your demon if he’s mad at SOMEONE ELSE. If you’re looking to calm down a demon who’s mad at YOU please seek Volume Two!

Lucifer’s mad at Someone Else

Your action should depend on who he’s mad at. Unfortunately, there is a diverse amount of people who irritate him... For simplicity's sake, we recommend first seeking out our supplementary materials: How to Deal with Greedy Scumbags and How to Resolve Demonic Family Squabbles. Both should prove useful.

Assuming now that his irritation is caused by someone outside of the family there shouldn’t be too much to worry about. Lucifer is a very composed demon… unless someone (who’s name is not Diavolo) tries to order him around or belittle him in any way.

You must act quickly, there is no time to chastise the stranger for their foolish error.

Appeal to logic first. Unless he is truly incensed, he should still be willing to hear out the reasons why going full demon on the situation may not be the best idea.

Hopefully, your reasoning skills are sufficient enough to make a good case for staying calm and he should (begrudgingly) agree with your advice and maintain composure.

However, if he is truly that mad then desperate measures are in order… Threaten to tell Diavolo if he does anything. This should stop him, but he will be very unhappy with you pulling what amounts to the “I’m telling your boss” card.

Smooth this over with him after tensions have settled. Ideally, you have very good reasons for doing such a thing. He may end up agreeing with you in hindsight (but never expect him to say so).

Mammon’s mad at Someone Else

This should actually be a very uncommon event. Mammon is irritable at times but rarely will he express his anger to such a degree that you must step in.

Should this happen it is likely because you are in danger and we first advise you to sit tight and not hurt yourself. Mammon is on the way.

Once he is there (and for some reason you wish him to be merciful), demonstrate to him that you are, in fact, fine and desire to leave. It may take some coaxing, but he is a pushover and will likely relent if you plead insistently enough.

If you are not, in fact, fine then there is nothing to be done. He will not show mercy even if you want him to. Just sit tight and focus on not dying until he can get you to emergency services.

Leviathan’s mad at Someone Else

He’s probably jealous of someone so he’s feeling angry and insecure.

Physical contact is important, it will remind him that you’re with him and want to be with him. Find a way to touch him in an intimate way; cling to his arm, lace fingers, or catch his cheeks, etc. It is a physical demonstration of your bond.

Get his eyes off of whoever has him worked up because if he gets too upset he may lash out... Gently coax him to either look at just you or stand directly in his line of sight like you’re blocking a TV screen.

Now build him up! If he’s feeling bad that he can’t do A, remind him that he’s fantastic at B and who cares about A anyway? If he’s wishing that he were C, well screw C because you like the fact that he’s D. Soothe that self-confidence as a supportive lover would.

Once he’s sufficiently reassured, distract him with something otaku-related. Mention a new show, point to kind of anime reference, or offer to go play games. The crisis should now be averted so enjoy your adorkable demon once more!

Satan’s mad at Someone Else

The name of the game is deescalation because otherwise someone’s probably going to get maimed.

Satan is not going to want to show his worst self to you if he can avoid it (he’s a little image conscious that way) so you can use that to your advantage. Your very presence alone is a bit of a buffer.

Appeal to reason, but never ever say that he’s overreacting. That will cause an instant snapback and anger him even more.

Remind him of the reasons why he should’t give in to his temper. One at a time now, don't pile them on. He needs time to consider each one.

Do remember that really these are only suggestions and not orders, if you tell him “Sit back down because you’ll cause a scene” then it’s a scene you’re going to get.

If all else fails, attempt to get him out of the scenario entirely. Make up some excuse and try to coax him to leave. It may or may not work based on the strength of your arguments before. If it’s REALLY not a good idea to be mad right now, he will likely let himself be taken away. 

But know when to fold’em. Satan is the Avatar of Wrath. If he feels truly justified in bringing down the Hammer of Rage, then there may be no stopping him. At that point, find a safe place to stand and wait it out. He’ll get it out of his system soon enough...

Asmodeus’ mad at Someone Else

Asmo is a diva when he's mad. There's no reasoning, there's no logic, this is very much a "yes dear" situation.

Just placate him as best as you can at first. Chances are what has him so irate isn't very major anyway and can be easily taken care of. If, in this case, it’s a person then deftly assess what sort of person you are dealing with to find the right solution.

Store/restaurant employees will likely make up the bulk of these interactions… In these cases, I suggest stepping in for Asmo as a “representative” of sorts in order to spare them the brunt of his fury. 

You will be the best go-between to your boyfriend and the rest of the world that just doesn't seem to understand his (lengthy) requirements. Act according to his interests, but remind him gently to have realistic expectations of what can be done.

If Asmo is unable to have his way, he will turn to you for comfort and consolation. You need not agree completely with his perspective, but be very empathetic to his plight and try to frame the situation as reasonably as possible.

Physical contact is paramount to Asmo’s emotional wellbeing, so cuddle your boyfriend back to happiness!

If the other person is one of his brothers… Pick your battles wisely. Please consider our helpful supplementary materials: On Demonic Family Relations & Asmodeus and the Public: Dos and Don’ts

Beelzebub’s mad at Someone Else

It is advantageous to always carry emergency snacks around Beel and here is one of the many reasons why.

If you are dealing with an angry Beel then you are either in a situation where he’s being denied food or someone has hurt one of his family members.

If it is merely an issue of food, gift him the emergency snacks (preferably stay stocked on some of his absolute favorites for maximum diversion) and then allow the other person a chance to exit the confrontation. 

Promise to take Beel to the nearest possible food source, uphold said promise, and then there’s no need for bloodshed.

If someone has hurt one of his family members* or dare say you… Consult our supplementary material: My Protective Demon and Me

*Important Note: If someone has hurt Belphegor I strongly suggest simply leaving the area. There is nothing to be done, best to seek safety and wait for others to assist you. Do try to avoid the falling rubble on your way out.

Belphegor’s mad at Someone Else

Belphegor is a bit of an irritable demon, however, it should take significant prodding for him to be enraged enough to cause any trouble. He’s quite lazy.

If there is something irritating Belphie, he is far more likely than the others to just leave in disgust. He will most likely try to convince you to leave as well. This will only be a problem if, for say, you don’t want or are unable to leave.

Keep a very close eye on Belphegor throughout the interaction. Make note of any changes in posture, tone of voice, and other subtle physical indicators of exasperation. They may be slight, but it is crucial to know when his patience is wearing thin.

Ideally, you can speed up the encounter before he reaches his wit’s end.

If he begins to make an excessive amount of snide or biting comments then he is reaching his boiling point and it is time to leave... Now. 

End the conversation, take Belphegor, and calmly go. He will not fight you. 

Secure the nearest place you can for an emergency nap/snuggle session, preferably one that is both safe and clean, and remain there until he’s soothed again. Attempting to leave early will aggravate him.

If you are truly unable to leave there’s not much that can be done… take a step back and try to stay out of the line of fire. He will likely end things quickly so he can get back to napping as soon as possible, be sure to accompany him there.

To see how to calm down a demon who is mad at YOU, consult Volume Two: So You’ve Pissed Him Off Have You?

[unabashegirl]

“What are you doing up?”

Author’s note: How is this man REAL? I still don’t understand how God could have ever created someone so beautiful... 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! 

SEND YOUR REQUESTS!

masterlist

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WORD COUNT: 3.8K 

italics are flashbacks!

The warm-toned colors of sunrise filtered through the tall, windows leading out to the balcony. The reflection of the sun against the ocean illuminated their quiet bedroom. They had forgotten to shut the blinds and pull down the blackout of the room. Hence, why Y/N’s face was completely exposed to the soft afternoon light. Consequently, waking her up from her slumber.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as she processed her surroundings and woke the rest of her body. She covered her mouth as she yawned and stretched out her back and limps. She rolled over, facing upwards as her hands pushed her hair out of the way. She admired the beautiful and probably very expensive chandelier that hung from the ceiling. She hasn't noticed it before, but how could she? The last forty-eight hours had been hectic and all over the place but incredibly dreamy.

She was still flushed when she had arrived home that afternoon. Her hair was still slightly damp even though her work out had ended forty minutes ago. She had stopped for groceries because her boyfriend was coming back from an extensive work trip. Y/N had planned to cook his favorite meal and cozy up on the couch while he reminisced about the trip. Her plan was short-lived when she opened the door of her apartment and found him waiting for her by the entrance.

She immediately dropped the bags by the entrance and threw her body on his. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, not even flinching at the loud sound of her sunglasses hitting the hardwood floor.

”yeh miss me, lovey?” Harry’s big smile splattered on his face, the same smile that she has always praised and adored since the very first day. She squeezed his cheeks while peppering kisses all over his face after a long waited passionate kiss.

”This is ticklish” Y/N referred to the stubble that he had grown since he had felt. ”How do you manage to make everything attractive?” She mumbles as Harry stares down at her with adoration.

”I could ask you the same, love” His own hands running down the sides of her tight workout clothes. ”I’ve missed you so much”  He had grown accustomed to sleeping next to her; touring and sleeping in different hotel rooms on his own — had become a challenge. He hated it, but he loved it too. He loved that he had become so attached to her that he missed her presence. He didn't have to touch her. Harry missed the faint smell of her Chanel perfume scattered on the pillows and comforter. He just liked knowing that was beside him and close by.  It brought him serenity.

“Me too” On the other hand, she had missed hearing him hum and sing in the shower. She had missed waking up to him in the kitchen, making fresh coffee, in a white towel, barefoot with wet hair. ”Are you hungry?” Y/N asked remembering the whole reason why she hadn't been home earlier. She pulled away to go pick up the bags by the entrance.

”I am” Harry stands back and watches her bent down, taking his time to admire her body and appearance. ”Have you been doing squats or something?” he bluntly asks after noticing her bottom looked rounder than last time. Y/N giggled and shook her head before standing straight back up.

”Nothing gets past you, does it?”

”at least nothing that has to do with you” He took the bags from her before she could take any further steps. ”you didn't answer my question” Harry yelled back from the kitchen while she locked the front door.

”I am. Just wanted it to be nicer” She shrugged as she walked into the kitchen and found him taking the groceries out of the bags. She also had read a few comments on an Instagram profile that posted about celebrity couples. They picked her apart and criticized every single inch of her body. She had felt pretty shitty for a few days, but she would never tell Harry. After all, she knew that she wasn’t supposed to be reading comments. Harry had always warned her.

”Trust me. It was already nice,” he added. There he was again, uplifting her and making her feel flawless. It has been two years since they met at an event in Los Angeles through mutual friends and she still didn't get used to cheeky yet sweet comments.

”How was LA?” The night they met, Y/N had just gone for a drink after being pressured by her friend. It was a party at a small intimate bar with a bunch of celebrities. To this day, she still doesn't know what the party was celebrating.

”It was fine. I saw a few of our friends. They asked about you” As a matter of fact, they seemed slightly disappointed that she wasn’t accompanying him. His friends preferred her, but he didn’t care. He also preferred her. Harry was the first to approach the night they first met. After seeing her standing by the bar looking lonely. One of his terrible jokes was enough to break the ice and cause her to smile.

”I guess I'll have to visit more often” She liked traveling with Harry, but the tour was just around the corner. Therefore, she needed to straighten everything out before departing. “I was thinking of making your favorite meal” Harry looked up to her, biting his lips with a slight frown. ”What?”.

”Change of plans. You are going to go upstairs and pack a bag” He ordered her as he rested his elbows on the kitchen counter. Then it was Y/N’s turn to frown.

”A bag? For what? What do I pack? Where are we going? You just got here,” She bombarded him with questions. Harry very mischievously, shrugged then leaned over to grab one of the fresh bananas that she had just bought.

”Can’t tell you, lovey. Just go change and pack” He had it all planned. He had started to come up with it before he left for America. He had to move a lot of pieces around for it to work without drawing any suspicion to his master plan. His trip to LA had given him more time to work on the minor details without being questioned.

”What should I pack?” She was surprised at the abrupt change of plans, but Harry never disappointed. Therefore, she trusted him and would comply.

”Your everyday clothes and bathing suits, maybe a dress” His bag was already packed; his assistant had made sure of it. He usually packed his clothes, but because of the short time frame that they had, they didn't want to take any risks. ”do I have to carry yeh?” Harry asked since she still hadn't moved.

”No!” She giggled as he took a warning step towards her. ”I’ll be right back” Harry smiled after her, while she packed he took the time to make himself something quick to eat since he was starving.

Harry was surprisingly still sleeping.  His lips slightly parted as soft snores escaped his mouth now and then. His tattooed arm hung over her waist. His head tucked in the back of her neck, his tattooed chest pressed against her back, radiating heat like an oven. It explained the reason why she only wore underwear to sleep. At some point in their relationship, she had started waking up with a thin layer of sweat covering her body. It was Harry who had suggested her change of sleeping attire after he refused to stop cuddling her.

Y/N gently took his arm off her body making sure she didn’t disrupt his sleep. Along with the tour, press, interviews, and shows came his anxiety and sleep deprivation. He always managed to hide it, but she knew that he struggled. Therefore, the fact that she had woken up before him was a pleasant surprise and that she wasn’t willing to ruin.

She was quick to observe that she could do some minutes under the sun as she stood before the bathroom’s mirror. Y/N twisted her body sideways just to get a better look at her physique. Harry’s fingers mark printed all over her thighs, as well as the scattered hickeys on her chest, were a reminder of their night. She reached back and grabbed a bathrobe off the hook to hide her nakedness.

“Are you excited?” He asked her as he opened the trunk of the rental car that they would use for the entire trip. He still had a few surprises under his sleeve, he was just waiting for the right time to reveal the rest.

On the other hand, Y/N couldn’t stop smiling, her cheeks had started hurting minutes after he had revealed the destination of their spontaneous trip.

“Are you kidding?” She squeaked as she watched his muscles tense up under the shirt that he had opted to wear. Harry chuckled as he strategically placed her suitcase first in the trunk. He had rented out a convertible which he sort of regretted now, due to the lack of space. “What brought this on?”.

“I just thought it would be nice. We haven’t spent as much time as I would’ve liked to” He added a shrug as he took his duffle bag from her and squeezing it in before shutting it close. “My work has gotten in the way of many things” She instantly knew what specific occasion he was referring too. Harry had missed her master’s graduation in child psychology a few weeks ago. Her mom had Facetimed him when her name was called and he had seen her disappointment throughout the rest of the night. He had tried his best to catch a flight to make it in time, but his work commitments had gotten in the way.

“Harry Edward Styles” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned against the side of the car. She gently gripped his jaw, forcing his sight on hers. “Stop beating yourself over it” Sure, she had felt lonely that night without him by her side, but she could never blame him. “I love every single bit of you and everything that comes along. Including your work because that means I get to hear and watch you do what you love the most” The corners of his lips curved upwards, revealing his dimples. She kissed them gently after her eyes drifted down to them.

“I love you the most” Harry whispered with his eyes slightly hooded, enamored by the words that had just come out of her enticing mouth.  He gave her a quick yet breathless kiss just in case reporters were watching them.

It was the perfect day in Italy. The sun shone brightly, high in the sky. There were no clouds threatening the day with any signs of rain. The streets were crowded with tourists and locals.  At first, Harry resisted the urge to pull the top of the car down since they were still in the center of Rome. The last thing he wanted was to get recognized and mobbed on his Italian vacation with the love of his life. He had made arrangements for his most trusted bodyguard to travel with them. Harry wanted to keep everything as intimate as possible. He had done it before when he had traveled to Jamaica and Japan. Therefore why couldn't he do it again this time around — he wondered.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked as she noticed that the scenery had changed and it seemed more rural. Harry winked at her at night before pushing on the gas. “We aren’t staying in Rome, are we?”.

“Of course not” He kept a smirk on his face as he pulled the top of the car off as soon as they were out of the city.

She couldn’t help but stare at the gorgeous and sweet man that she had grown to love unconditionally. His silky, dark brown hair like grass in the wind. She could stare for hours his chiseled face. His prominent and clenched jawline seemed to be sculped by Greek gods. The slight stubble that he had grown on his chin and upper lip gave him a more carefree and relaxed complexion. She left slightly disappointed that his gorgeous eyes were blocked by his classic, Gucci sunglasses.

“Yeh staring again, darlin” His rough voice, didn’t stop her from admiring him. She unbuckled herself from her seat then leaned in and planted a kiss against his tan skin. “I love you” Harry momentarily looked over at her before looking back at the road.

“Goodmorning” Y/N whispered as she opened the door wider for the hotel employer to bring the room service that she had ordered only minutes ago.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N” He smiled at the young woman before rolling in the table, filled with different breakfast foods and drinks. “Is here alright? Or would you like by the balcony?”.  He suggested knowing that tourists loved having their first meal of the day with the view.

“The balcony sounds lovely — if it’s not too much to ask” She felt slightly guilty to make him set up outside.

“It would be my pleasure” Y/N quickly walked behind him as he pushed the car pass the entrance hall and living room of their hotel room. He kept his head up making sure not to knock anything or the floor or make a mess. He stopped right by the entrance to the balcony and carefully stared setting up the table. The young man had obviously heard that Harry Styles and his girlfriend were staying on the top floor. He hadn’t played too much attention to it like the rest of his work colleagues. If Harry Styles was in fact staying with them was because he wanted privacy, peace, and quiet— away from the spotlight and the fans. He was not going to mess it up. For this particular reason,  he was picked out of the bunch to bring their breakfast when his girlfriend had called. “You are all set up Ms. Y/L/N”.  

“Thank you…” Y/N looked down as his name tag then gave him a big smile, “...Luca’

“buon appetito” He smiled back as he started walking his way back to the entrance.

“Luca, what’s the best thing to do around here besides going to the beach?” They had wanted to do something out of the ordinary. The town where they were staying was pretty small which meant they could easily walk the streets and actually get to experience the Italian culture.

“You can visit the gardens,” He said after a few minutes of thinking. “Do you like cooking?” Y/N instantly perked up, nodding with a big smile. “Then you can take a cooking class. I could set it up for you, just give us a call downstairs and I’ll take care of it”.

“That sounds lovely. Thank you Luca” Y/N made sure to tip him before he left her alone in the hotel room. She sat outside, wrapped in the bathrobe, holding a fresh cup of coffee to her lips while staring out into the Almifi coast. Everything looked just as beautiful as last night.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked as he walked to the small balcony that they had in their bedroom. They had arrived four hours ago to their final destination. They had immediately changed into bathing suits and made use of their private pool. They ditched the pool as they started noticing the commence of the sunset. The couple decided to take on the streets of the small town for dinner. Ravello is a small town off the Almafi Coast. It is a hidden treasure with one of the best views of the ocean. It was perfect for their stay.

“Like twenty minutes ago” She wore a short, silky, olive dress with a pair of white sneakers — too lazy to walk on heels through the rocky, inclined streets of Revello. The thin straps of her dress weren’t wide enough to hide the slight tan lines that she had to manage to obtain with only a few hours under the sun. Harry loved seeing tan lines on her delicate skin. He hated it when she refused to get them by untying the back of her bikini. The olive tone of her dress made her skin more tempting.

“I am starving” he pouted as she intertwined their fingers.

“What are you craving?” They had to make a tough choice to make —both being lovers of Italian cuisine.

“Everything” He chuckled as they walked out of their suite. “I am thinking pasta”.

“I don’t know. Pizza sounds so good” Harry groans at the through of an authentic slice of Italian pizza.

“I hope you know that we are sharing tonight. I am having some of your pizza”.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N said as they got on the elevator.

“Yeh are such a meanie” Harry pouted once again before the doors close.

-

“Fuck I am stuffed” Harry exhales as he leans back on his seat. Y/N giggled as she tried to digest all the food that they had just stuffed their faces with. “But it was so worth it” He beams after wiping the corners of his mouth with the napkin. The night had gone according to plan. They had talked for hours as if they didn’t know one another. No one had recognized him except for the waiter who was a bit starstruck, but either way, respected their privacy.

“I think you are going to have to carry me back” She reached down and patted the small tummy that she had developed in the course of dinner. Her dress felt tight against her skin. She was sure that one more bite of food would tear her dress apart. Harry laughed softly at her cute tummy.

“Let’s go for a walk. It might help us” He was tempted to unbutton his high waisted pants. He was first on his feet, then reached out for her.

“That was delicious. Thank you, baby” She kissed him as they made their way down the street towards their hotel. She couldn’t wait to fall asleep by the sound of the waves crashing by the shore. It was all so soothing. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders as they made their way through the town square.

“There is something I would like us to talk about” Harry confessed as they came across the entrance to the public beach.  “Should we walk on the beach?” As her mind wondered what he could possibly be wanting to talk about, Harry kneeled down and helped take her sneakers off after his shoes.

The sand was still slightly warm from the day. They walked right by the water, close enough to slightly wet their feet, but far enough not get bite by anything in the darkness. There was always something very eerie of the never-ending darkness of the ocean. It seemed scary yet mysterious.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Y/N blurted out as she stopped walking after a few minutes of complete quietness. She could sense something was bothering him. Harry unwrapped himself away from her and faced her. Momentarily making her scared that he was actually ending things. 

“How could you possibly think that?” He frowned, “Do you remember that night in Japan?” It took her a few minutes to finally figure out what particular night he was talking about. He had gone to Japan two months ago to finish off a song. She had stayed in England after getting a ridiculous virus from a coworker.

“Yeah— what about it?” Harry exhaled as he thought of that night.

“You stayed up with me. You had a high fever” He had been stuck in the studio for hours and had decided to Facetime her. He had started to feel the pressure of writing an impeccable album for the fans. Harry felt like he was cracking under pressure. According to him, all the music was starting to sound like shit. He wanted to check on her, but also get distracted. 

“Well yeah. You needed me. You weren’t feeling well” She shrugged as if it was no big deal. He smiled widely at her, shaking his head at her obliviousness. “I don’t get it” Y/N giggled pulling at her bottom lip with her head slightly tilted to the side. 

“You still don’t see it!” He exhaled, running his hands through his hair. “You were the one sick and you are so selfless that you stayed up with me just because I wasn’t feeling like emotionally well. Even though you were the one with a fever” He sighted trying to gather all his thoughts at once. “Everything with you, it’s so easy. I miss you all the time. I hate leaving you alone and I especially hate that you still haven’t moved in with me. I’ve also never been such a jealous man as I am now. I can’t stand the thought of someone else holding you, looking at you, let alone kissing you,” He looked up at her trying to decipher her emotions. “You never hung up that night after you fell asleep. I stayed with you on the phone. That was the night that I realized that what I have with you, I don’t want it with anyone else” His hand reached back and pulled the small box from his pocket. He kneeled down before she could say or have any sort of reaction to his proposal. “Would you marry me, lovey?”.

--

“What are you doing up?” Harry’s raspy voice, almost causes her to spill the cup of hot coffee over her white bathrobe. He leaned over her and gave her a minty fresh kiss. “I woke up and you weren’t there” He added after sitting across from her.

“I thought you would like to wake up to some breakfast” Harry smiled as he uncovered his plate of freshly made food. She had of course ordered his favorite.

“What with the Italian sun on you, that makes you so irresistible?” Harry asked as he spreads jelly on his toasts. It was his turn to gawk at her. She hadn’t properly tied her bathtub around. Therefore it was slipping off one of her shoulders, showing him the collarbones that he loved kissing. Her lips were slightly swollen and a few freckles had appeared from the sunbathing session from yesterday.

“Stop” She laughed as she placed her coffee mug on the table. Harry took a few bites off his toast before taking a sip out of his tea with a constant smug smile.

“Last night when you were ridding me, only wearing the ring  — it was a sight to behold” He added knowing exactly how to make her blush.

“Harry!” Y/N exclaimed as she covered her flushed face with her hands. Harry erupted into heavy laughter as he stared at the woman that he would soon be marrying with love from across the table.

----

HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

[strayinvelvet]

still at it

work is starting to pile and you kind of expected your boyfriend to support you, not annoy you

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: fluff, implied enemies-to-lovers

wc: 1.3k

warning: swearing :(

a/n: happy hearts day, cuties! part of @districtninewriters​ dear skz, with love. this took so long mainly because of the recent news, yea. i’m so nervous about this i really hope i did the prompt and project some justice. phew (っ＾▿＾)💨. enjoyyy (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥

“You’re insufferable.”

You rolled your eyes at the neon yellow post-it note placed on your office desk. It’s still early in the morning and you have a long eventful day ahead of you which is why you tried to get to work as early as possible. 

The busy days have officially started for your company.  Your partner company is planning to launch a new collection in their fast-growing fashion brand in Berlin and your company, being the most sought out marketing team in the industry, is tasked to implement the most appropriate marketing and advertising plan for the collection. Even the people working for you are already on their desks working on what they are assigned to do. Some are having coffee while some are already writing papers that are nearing their deadline. In conclusion, everybody looked busy and none of them looked suspicious enough to be part of this very eye catching note thing.

Rolling your eyes once again, you sat at your table and picked up the surprise note. Truthfully, even at first glance, you already know the person behind it. How could you forget this one of a kind handwriting, the one you so hated to see back when you were in high school. Han Jisung. That little shit is still going at it.

You folded it in half before placing it in between the pages of your planner. As if on cue, your secretary knocked on your office door asking for permission to enter. As soon as she entered your office, she immediately briefed you of your schedule for today. Meetings, briefings and scheduling of future meetings and partnerships. Exciting. You’re starting to regret all of your life choices.

“Oh and by the way, is this yours?” she showed another yellow note, “this was stuck on your office door.” You sighed. Just how many of these did he make? “Leave it on my table and then meet me at the meeting hall for the first meeting,” you gestured towards your table. “Will do.” with that, she left you to do your own stuff. 

“And annoying.”

Yep, he’s one of the decisions you’re starting to regret (maybe not but you like exaggerating). You’re not gonna lie, at this time of the year, you expected little notes that would inspire you, make your heart sing love songs, or rush the blood to your cheeks. These notes, however,  only made your blood boil. You swore that when you see him once you’re back from Berlin, he’s going to get it. You kept the note the same way you did to the previous ones. Goodness, if only he wasn’t a major player of your partner company. 

You reached for your phone and dialed his phone number and true enough he answered just after two rings, “Are you fucking for real?”

You heard him laugh at the other line before asking your question, “Shouldn’t you be planning our marketing strategy?”

“I am and your lovely notes are helping me big time, seriously. And shouldn’t you be working on the collection’s designs instead of this bullshit?”

“Hey, I am currently approving those that are outstanding. I’m not like you who-”

You know he’s gonna bully you, you just know. So, you quickly ended the call before anymore bullshit comes out of his mouth. With your nth eye roll for the day, you stood up to attend your first agenda.

Hours passed and the series of formal business stuff is starting to get to you. Your butt is sore from sitting all day, plus your muscles are in dire need of a stretch. The last meeting of the day has just been adjourned minutes ago and you and your secretary are taking your time to breathe in your office. "Miss Y/n, your trip to Berlin is in two days. Have you packed?” well until your secretary went to business mode real quick. 

“Kim, please, give me a minute,” you laughed but answered her question nonetheless, “Yes, I have and oh, can you try to squeeze in my schedule for the first four days so I could have the last two to myself?”

“That would drain you,” she answered confusingly. She’s not wrong, tho. You contemplated for a while but honestly, you wanted to explore Berlin too and you can’t do that by sitting in a meeting room for a week. “Better than seeing Berlin through a floor-to-ceiling window glass pane.”

Kim nodded, "I will update your schedule. Maybe you should bring your boyfriend over," she suggested which also suggests that she doesn’t know who the notes are from. “It’s a business trip, Kim. And I don’t know if i should agree or disagree with that.”

You both laughed lightly before Kim left you to fix your schedule per your request. You, on the other hand, are willing to give everything just to lay on your bed or have a warm shower. Whatever door is nearer to your entrance. So you left as fast as you arrived at this building just to feel the comfort of your home.

The apartment you were greeted with is not the same apartment you left. You left yours with unfolded clothes everywhere, full trash bin and sink and a disorganized living room. You tend to be messy when you’re ridiculously busy. But this, the place in front of you, is like a whole different scene. Every corner is squeaky clean from the shoe organizer to the kitchen. The apartment lights are also set to dim with candle lights and all but enough to see everything. Soon after, the smell of delicious food wafted through your nose. 

The hints are giving you an idea of what is going on.

You went to the kitchen only to see a romantic dinner set up complete with those fancy utensils, fancy food, candles and wine, and of course, a yellow note.

“But i’m willing to suffer for you. Happy valentines, baby”

This dork, you thought while smiling like a goof (which you tried to hide). 

“Han Jisung!” you called him. His head peeped through the doors of your bedroom with a big grin on his face. “Were you surprised?”

You couldn’t contain the smile anymore and so you let it out, “come here.” You gestured to him to come over with your arms hanging in the air as if waiting for him to come nearer so you could wrap it around his neck. He came out with a bouquet of fresh daisies in his hand which he had to place on top of the dining table in order to accept your cuddle invitation. Jisung kissed your forehead before securely wrapping his arms on your waist. “Did you like it?”

“Aside from being partly annoyed, yes actually,” you tightened your arms around his neck so you could pull him down to give him a proper kiss. This wasn’t part of your relaxation plan but you are glad to welcome him in your routine, as always. The kiss was starting to get heated when you pulled away from him and loosened your grip, making him look at you with a questioning gaze.

“Thank you for cleaning my apartment and all this.”

“Anything for you, my love,” he kissed your cheek, “and I also did almost half of your work in Berlin so you could relax a little,” then he kissed your other cheek. For some reason, he has to accompany each of his sentences with a kiss. But nevertheless, it still made you giggle. “I’m not thanking you for the notes, though- wait, am i really insufferable?” You looked at him like you’ve just been betrayed. Out of all people, he had the audacity to tell you you’re the insufferable one?

He smiled, “no baby,” he pecked your lips before continuing, “ you just annoy me sometimes.”

“So you just had to annoy me first?” you asked with a smirk forming on your lips.

He shrugged, “guess I’m still at it.” This time, he accompanied his replies with a brush to your stray hair with his fingers just so he could look at you properly. You squished his chubby cheeks together, forming a pout in his already adorable face.

“Yeah,” you pecked the pout you forced, “I guess we’re still at it.”

end.

yayyy omg this may or may not be from an e2l au that is currently sitting in my drafts hmm 

[coolnerdyandalone]

on FIMQ deleting her content and COVID-19 (and a gratuitous larry fic rec)

@freddiesmyqueen first of all queen i hope you’re doing ok although i know some shit must have gone down for you to delete/private list all your videos and i hope you know that the larry community supports you always. Also your talent is TRULY unmatched in the world of video editing - no one makes edits quite like you and that’s why your loss impacts the community so profoundly. 

secondly, i know at least i was hoping to turn to rewatching all of FIMQ’s videos while i’m being quarantined due to the coronavirus. and i’m willing to bet that i’m not the only one. this is a scary time and for people like me who feel profoundly alone right now, the only way for me to calm my nerves and fears is by reverting to the content and community that helped me feel not so alone when i was in middle and high school. For me, that looks like watching FIMQ videos and reading my favorite larry fanfics (which i will also link below).  because of this i thought it might be helpful to repost some links that were posted by @bluemoonlarryandkaylor for a signal boost (if my teeny-tiny account can be called a signal boost). 

link to a google drive with FIMQ videos: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1ONwfLOd_IYvAL5OUDqDb_LLgQsDpd9il

link to an acct with some FIMQ re-uploads: https://www.youtube.com/user/Joana3961/videos

link to FIMQ vids with spanish subtitles: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIouodFhArMkQhOHxv2t2NgxTwl6KvXAT

and now if you want to look at some good old fashioned larry fics that are my ABSOLUTE faves and could 100% be actual novels/movies, keep reading:

And Then A Bit** by @infinitelymint aka the best fanfic ever written (basically larry fakes a relationship for publicity with each other and it could be cannon if you really wanted to hope upon hopes): https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415272/chapters/2972746 (159k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

Escapade** by @haydolce aka the Jack McQueen fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034197/chapters/9071932 (146k)

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

California Sold** by @isthatyoularry​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5157680/chapters/11877494 (123k)

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

Bring Your Body Baby (I Could Bring You Fame) by @theboyfriendstagram : https://archiveofourown.org/works/4263903/chapters/9652944 (84k)

Eighteen year old Harry Styles just graduated high school and landed a summer job as a waterboy for his favorite football team. His job description is simple: be ready to hand water and towels to players if needed. That didn’t seem to include Louis Tomlinson though, a twenty-three year old, recently transferred Paris Saint-German player, who seems to like making Harry’s job much more difficult than it has to be.

OR  

A self-indulgent AU that takes place over the summer of 2015. 18 year old Harry hates pining after people he can't have, and 23 year old footballer Louis loves flirting with people even though it never means anything.

Pull Me Under** by @zarah5 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/870766/chapters/1672104 (140k)

AU. As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis' favourite teammate, Liam as Louis' agent, and Zayn as Liam's boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.) 

You You You** by @isthatyoularry : https://archiveofourown.org/works/846690/chapters/1617212 (137k)

“Infamous boybander leaves club together with unknown,” read the headline. Underneath were pictures of a boy with dark curls, green eyes and very tight pants. They both studied the article for a moment, reading it through quickly. “Is that…?” Louis frowned. That guy almost looked exactly like... "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" "Louis," Niall said, looking absolutely fucked over. "You just fucked the most wanted guy on earth. You just fucked Harry Styles of One Direction."

Or, the one where Harry and Louis meet at a club and Louis takes Harry home, only for him to realize that the boy who just made him breakfast half naked is Harry Styles from One Direction.

Like an Endless Summer by @horsegirlharry : https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365494/chapters/25442085 (87k)

“You just wanna go fawn over Styles as soon as possible,” Zayn grumbles.

“I do not. Plus, he probably got ugly this year. Eighteen is an awkward time...I bet he’s got acne and one of those terrible fuckboy haircuts all the hipsters are getting these days, with the shaved sides? Just watch, the first year we’re gonna get any time together is gonna be the first year I don’t have a stupid crush on him.”

---

Or, Louis is a riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor who he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two summers. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’s formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun.

Three French Hems by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064493 (20k)

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

The Dead of July aka the Marvel Fic by @whimsicule  : https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594570/chapters/7928520 (117k)

Being an Avenger means continuing to be Captain America and smiling and being honorable for the public and Harry does his best. But it doesn’t give him time to figure out who he is supposed to be once he takes off his uniform and puts the shield to the side. Just being Harry had always involved Louis, and Harry fears he doesn’t know how to exist without him.

or: Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

Gods & Monsters by  @mizzwilde : https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090982/chapters/4550871 (201k)

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.

Love is a Rebellious Bird aka LIARB aka the orchestra fic aka dont hum bolero by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162438/chapters/2362331 (135k)

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

My English Love Affair** by @isthatyoularry​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/1873962 (19k)

The thing about sleeping with a member of a famous indie band is that the inevitability of having a song written about you is most likely a hundred percent. The second thing is that in the end, nobody's supposed to find out it's about you.

The one where Harry writes a song about his English love affair and Louis sleeps with someone in White Eskimo and all he gets is a stupid song written about him.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose by @haydolce : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5799241/chapters/13366498 (113k)

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Wild and Unruly aka the Cowboy fic by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/2723093/chapters/6099611 (124k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

For As Long As I Can Remember (It’s Been December)** by @greenfeelings​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051122/chapters/34892210 (128k)

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

the boys of fall** aka the american football fic by @godgavemelou​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443037 (21k)

“And everyone, this is Harry Styles. He’s going to be our starting quarterback this year.”

Louis looks at him, the tall and lanky Harry Styles, and takes it all in. He’s got hair to his shoulders that curls at the ends, tattoos all down his arms, and a bright smile on his face as the team cheers him on. He’s lean and fit, and absolutely beautiful, and Louis hates him to the core.

OR an american football au where the boys play for the university of tennessee, and harry and louis quite hate each other.

** indicates that the fic is a log-in required fic, but if you want the pdf i can send it to you

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Progression. 

Pairing: Yandere!Best-Jeanist/Reader.

Commission for the lovely @99shadowcat99.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Synopsis: You’re sure Hakamada only has your best interests in mind. You came to him in a time of need, after all, and as a hero, it’s only natural that he’d want to see you improve. You’re sure he does, you only wish he didn’t have such a cold way of showing it.

TW: Toxic Relationships, Financial Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, and Slight Stockholm Syndrome.

It probably didn’t help that you’d been at such a low point, when Hakamada first found you.

It was something you couldn’t deny, something you didn’t try to deny, not when it had such a lasting impact on your relationship. He’d pitied you, back then, met you when you were broke and desperate and willing to do just about anything for a recommendation, a place to stay, a steady wage and all the stability he and his agency could provide, if you just managed to worm your way in. You could only be thankful he’d decided to interview you personally, despite his position. You never would’ve gotten the job, otherwise.

You’d never admitted that to him, not out loud, but that was something you liked about Hakamada - he picked up on little details, no matter how subtle. He noticed up on your willingness to work overtime, your erratic apologies whenever he called you into his office, regardless of the reason why. Your chronic lateness, your reliance on the charity of your coworkers whenever the staff went out for after-hour drinks. You’d never told him, but you never needed to. He was more than willing to help you, whether or not you let him know how much you appreciated it. He was a Hero, after all. It only made sense that he'd do whatever he could for someone in need.

The job hadn’t lasted, you weren’t really cut out for it, but Hakamada had.

Some days, you could even convince yourself he’d done it out of love.

Tonight, the task was easier than it usually was. In his penthouse, standing in front of the full-body mirror he’d had brought in and installed just for you, it was easy to fall into the idea that you were the object of his affections, the apple of his eye, someone he cared about and someone he cared about genuinely, especially when you were already dressed in clothes he’d bought, wearing the jewelry he’d been generous enough to pay for. You knew it wasn’t much, for him. Even if everything he gave you was designer, expensive enough to make your heart speed up and your throat go dry, it wouldn’t make a dent in his salary, and he seemed to like providing for you more than you liked being provided for, honestly. But, you couldn’t refuse. Hakamada had done so much for you, he was still doing so much for you. If he wanted someone to spoil, you couldn’t refuse. And, while you were on the topic…

“Are you ready, beautiful?”

You couldn’t let him know you were so reluctant, either.

You hadn’t heard him come in, but that didn’t stop you from leaning into his touch as you felt his hand cup your cheek, its twin coming to rest on your hip. He was gentle, if nothing else, his chest barely touching your back as he leaned forward, eyes scanning over your reflection, searching patiently for something to correct. You didn’t mind, submitting yourself to his scrutiny with minimal resistance. He was a perfectionist. He looked at everyone like a project, and you weren’t an exception.

Still, you tried to sound confident when you answered. Even if that meant lying through your teeth. “I think so,” You said, smoothing over your outfit one last time. “It’s a Hero’s gala, right? It’s not like anyone’s going to bother paying attention to me.”

“If you’re on my arm, they will.” He always sounded so stern. This wasn’t your first event, you’d gone plenty of times as his assistant and as his partner, but Hakamada liked to be thorough. Before, he’d dug the heel of his palm into the base of your spine, pinched your cheek whenever your attention started to drift, and even after his valet had already arrived, he’d still spend the better half of the drive searching for loose threads and stray hairs to aggressively correct. Now, to fix your posture, he was kind enough to stop at squeezing your hip, his free hand nudging gently at your shoulder. It was merciful, in comparison, but it was still difficult not to feel like a prized mutt, locked into a muzzle and dragged onto a pedestal. “Keep your back straight. You remember everything we went over, don’t you?”

Of course. He’d only spent the past three hours drilling it into you. “I do, Hakamada.”

There was a pause, just the slightest bit of hesitation. “Hakamada?”

To your credit, you caught your mistake a second after he did. “I mean, I do, Tsunagu--”

“You’re really going to address me like that in front of journalists?”

Your eyes dropped below the mirror. For whatever reason, you didn’t want to look at him, anymore. “I’m sorry, Tsun’.”

Luckily, that seemed to satisfy him. Hakamada let out a heavy sigh, and you could feel him shaking his head, more out of disappointment than genuine annoyance. The gesture was familiar, as was the anger-tinged guilt that accompanied it, but he still took his time, letting the feeling brew before he bothered to speak. Sometimes, you had to wonder if he did that on purpose, if he knew he was only making you feel worse by trying to act so forgiving. Most of the time, though, you pushed the thought out before you could dwell on it. You’d only be making things worse for yourself, if you started thinking about things like that. “I’m just trying to help,” He started, the mantra already engraved into your mind. “You’ve come so far since I first found you. All that progress shouldn’t go to waste.”

It wasn’t a question. He didn’t need you to agree. It shouldn’t, and as far as Hakamada was concerned, you didn’t get a choice in the matter. “I know. I’ve come too far to backtrack.”

“You’ve come too far to throw it away.” That was something you didn’t like, when you’d worked for him. It was all or nothing, with Hakamada. A mission was either a success or a disaster. His newest sidekick was either a prodigy or a wash-out waiting to happen. Failure wasn’t an option, not when the slightest mistake meant disrepair. “Things have gotten better for you, haven’t they? You’ve enjoyed your time with me?” It was a question, this time, but he didn’t want an answer, even if he paused as gloved fingers trailed over your side, only leaving your skin for a moment before he cupped your jaw, tilting your head back just far enough for the change to be noticeable. Just far enough to force you to look at your reflection, whether or not you wanted to. “It’d be such a shame if all of this had to come to an end just because of a few insignificant, avoidable mistakes.”

Suddenly, your throat went dry, your heart drawing a little too tight in your chest. It'd been happening more than it should, lately, considering how careful Hakamada encouraged you to be with your health. “You’re… This is going to end?”

He always seemed to enjoy it, when you said things like that. Maybe it was your tone, the softened desperation you didn’t try to hide, or maybe he took it as a confession, a sign that you cared for him, or that you cared for what he could provide, at least. You hoped it was the latter. He liked it when you were desperate, and you liked to pretend that he didn’t. “Of course not, dear,” He soothed, his disappointment suddenly gone and replaced with something more assuring, something more sentimental. As sentimental as Hakamada was capable of being, anyway. “I’d sooner lock you up completely than ever let my little muse run off. Besides...” He trailed off, a light chuckle fading into a scoff. “Even if I did lose you, I wouldn’t be able to let you go, not entirely. It wouldn’t be fitting for my partner, past or present, to go back to living in some tiny apartment, struggling to make ends meet. It’d be embarrassing, for both of us, and I don’t know if I’d be able to stand the distance.”

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to. Hakamada was distracted, now, pressing a light kiss into the dip of your shoulder before he pulled away, fiddling with the cuffs of his suit. “We’re already running late. When you’re ready, come find me. I’ll be waiting.”

You didn’t turn around. You heard the door to his bedroom close, his footsteps growing more distant as the seconds ticked by, but you didn’t feel the need to watch him, you didn’t want to see him, his face, how unaffected he was by the doubts that plagued you like some ever-lasting, unshakable waking nightmare. You knew it wasn’t healthy, objectively. You shouldn’t have to wonder if your boyfriend really likes you. You shouldn’t have to practice your smile, lower your voice, contort yourself to fit his standards of perfection, your needs be damned. It wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t even pleasant, but…

He was right. You didn’t go back to the way things used to be. Starving, working yourself to the bone to make rent, letting any Pro-Hero who showed an interest turn you into something soft and toothless and malleable. It was easier to be with Hakamada. It was easier to let him have his way.

It was easier to tell yourself that you’d still be allowed to leave, if you wanted to.

With that in mind, you turned on your heel, starting in the direction he’d gone off in. You would stay. You had to stay.

You wouldn’t know how to be yourself without him, anymore.

[theotherace]

Fic Recs: Taang

I’ve made two or three rec lists over the past few months, but I thought I’d make a proper, comprehensive one that’s easy to add to in the future. Not all of these are exclusively Taang, but they all feature the ship to some degree. I will only recommend one or two stories per author, but some profiles are definitely worth checking out further. So! Here goes.

Multi-Chapter, Complete

Whisper Into the Sky by damagectrl – Toph has two choices: Go home and get married or have the family fortune and her inheritance given to a stranger. Her problem: She wants to keep her ties to her family, but is quite content traveling with Aang. Her solution: Fight her way through suitors for her freedom. Literally. | General 

The Slow Path by Tazmainian Devil – Eight years after the fall of Ozai, Aang returns to the friends he left behind. | T

A Matter of Honor by Adridere – Almost 4 years after the war. Aang is engaged to Katara and is up to Zuko to teach him the facts of life. Yep, the bees and the birds. Crazy kings, bananas and the ultimate contest for the hand of a reluctant maiden. | M

Roommates by breeeliss – An unlikely tale of two unlikely people being forced to live together under unlikely circumstances.| Modern AU | T

Fall of the White Lotus by Boo-82 – Three years after the war Zuko is living a life of duty while Katara reluctantly travels the world with Aang. So, when General Iroh orders them to find Zuko’s mother and save his Order they seize the opportunity with both hands. It’s the beginning of an adventurous journey of discovery, but as time runs out a rising threat puts their bond to the test. | T

Half Asleep by The Crushinator – Five years after the Hundred-Year War, Fire Lord Zuko is hit with an assassin’s dart, and falls into a coma from which he cannot wake. A week passes, and his prognosis is grim. But Katara could swear she hears him in her dreams… | T

Yaaburnee by aviatordame – Avatars aren't meant to belong – that's as much as Aang can fathom. | M

Getting Lucky by roca-dos – Crazy things happen in college every day. | Modern AU | T 

All Fall Down by DJNS  – Aang copes with a tragic loss and finds renewed hope in an unexpected place. | M | Warning for Major Character Death

The Princess & the Badger-Cat by panaili – In a land never torn apart by the Hundred Year War, the sixteen-year-old Avatar Aang is trying his best to keep the balance between the four nations, including the increasingly antagonistic Fire Nation, which, despite his friendship with the Crown Prince Zuko, refuses to acknowledge him. Elsewhere, Sokka and Katara have been separated on their quest to find their missing father, and Sokka, pursued by the same bandits who kidnapped his sister, finds himself on the balcony of some rich girl’s house in Gaoling. Oh, and a sorcerer has turned him into a badger-cat. It’s just one of those days. | Teen and Up

Reborn by Jakia – Life. Death. Rebirth. This is the cycle that all spirits must abide to, even the Avatar. Aang and Toph face death and the reincarnation cycle. | T

New Girl by tiffaniesblews – After coming home early from a business trip, all Katara wanted to do was surprise her boyfriend, Jet. Imagine her surprise when she got home and Jet was in bed with another woman. Not wanting to live with her ex, and unable to live with her best friend, Suki, Katara takes her brother Sokka's offer to move into his loft with his two roommates. Aang is perky and sweet, the owner of a st. Bernard and a cat, who's often confused about his direction in life. Zuko, on the other hand, is a closed-off bartender, who takes some time opening up to others.The four could not be more different, and yet? They work out perfectly. Even if Katara's feelings for Zuko get a bit more complicated as time goes on. | Modern AU | Mature 

The Ties That Bind series by LdyKirin – An exploration of the ties that bind for good and ill. Toph and Zuko are both shaped by the family they were born to and the family they choose. Lots of found family feels. | T

What Happens In Kyoshi by BlackVelvetBand – Prince Zuko, and the GAang take a vacation on Kyoshi Island. Flirting, fighting, and embarrasment ensue as Sokka takes it upon himself to defend Katara's virtue...in a dress? A short,chaptered fic featuring Zutara, Sokki, and Taang. | T

Under the Night Sky by mycomfortblanket – Aang hears the chattering of teeth during a cold night. Was an AU that I found on tumblr that I made fit into this story. Orginal prompt: "We have to go camping together and share a sleeping bag even though we are complete strangers | General

On The Precipice by JoyDragon – They’re just best friends. Or maybe they’re teetering on the edge of being something more. | General

Oneshots, Complete

Air and Stone by Wolvenfire86 – A few Taang stories munched together. My first submissions. I hope everyone likes them. Please review, it makes me feel special. | K+

Taang Week 2020 series by teabagginses | Teen and Up & Mature

Our Little Secret by IrisPlumeria – Toph and Aang, sat next to one another dressed in their finest under paper lanterns and surrounded by copious amounts of food and friends, cringed at the disgusting noises coming out of Sokka’s nostrils as he blew his nose into Suki’s handkerchief. “I can’t believe two of my best friends are finally married!” Sokka sobbed, earning a supportive pat on the back from Suki, who didn’t flinch at the snot coming out of his nose. “I’m so happy for you guys!” Toph and Aang's family are happy for their nuptials, but will they be able to survive their wedding party without letting slip a big secret?Written for Taang Week 2020 - Tradition. | General 

All Roads Lead To Ba Sing Se by irisbleufic – "I was thinking," [Mai] said, tucking her last remaining dagger into her belt as she strode to meet him, "that it's about time I let Fire Lord Zuko know that I quit." When Kuei smiled at her, she could see the sunshine at which she once cringed."Notice that's six years overdue is better than none at all." "Indeed," said the Earth Queen, and grinned at him. | Teen And Up

Lady Fu’s Fortune Telling by Lady Cleo – Katara and Toph visit the local fortuneteller to get their fortunes told. Added a part two with Zuko and Aang. | T

The Perfect Companion by Morna – Aang seeks comfort outside of the arms of his wife, Katara. Taang, slightly lemony. | T

Box by JoeMerl – Written for Taang Week, one-shot. Toph ticks off Bumi, but Aang is willing to fight his old friend tooth and nail to get her out of trouble. Humor, light romance. | K+

2 am by shmulia – Whoever set off the fire alarm at 2 in the morning is on Katara's shit list. Even if he is hot and shirtless. | Modern AU | K

And its sequel, 11:45 – House parties aren't Katara's thing. Sokka's drunk, Suki's on a mission to set her up, and Toph is... well, Toph. But for every cloud there's a silver lining, and for Katara it comes in the form of a second chance with her neighbour... | Modern AU | T 

Treat by PsychEmpress – She felt the corners of her own lips quirk as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Consider this my treat,” he said and Toph allowed a smile to break out. OR In which Toph is a stressed architecture student who gets a free cup of coffee from the handsome waiter after she helps his friend. Taang. Mentions of Sukka. | Modern AU | T

Sawaru by metacognitive – This love is simple. Non-Korra compliant. | K+

Newlyweds (and basically everything else) by PandaCookie – Everyone’s a bit hopeless right after they’ve been married. | K+

Rhythms by xcgirl08– For now, though, her child’s heartbeat was hers to contemplate. | K 

Tenderness by Adridere – He wanted to keep her, even though he was not supposed to. He promised her freedom, and she promised him sanity in his own household. She kept her part of the bargain, but he found a way not to keep his. | M

Holy Matrimony by Loopy – After their marriage, Zuko and Katara deal with conflicting religious beliefs, and look to the friends for advice. Between the Zutara and the religious satire, every single person who reads this should feel offended. | General

Blind Maiden’s Grace by Adara_Rose – You can learn a lot of things from a flower… | Not Rated (I’d say General) 

Etched in the Earth by Dance_Elle_Dance – She knows the feel of Aang’s footprints better than her own, and that reality scares her. | Teen and Up

No One Asks About The Scars by voleuse – Write about how you learned to curse in order not to be cursed. | General

When in Rome by dtmars – She wasn’t stupid. She knew what she was doing and what she was getting herself into. They both did. | Modern AU. | Explicit

Like Real People Do by DerAndere – The moon is full and bright when he falls out of bed, awake, asleep, inside a dream, and starts walking, driven by the feeling he does not understand, tugging on him relentlessly, and he is Aang, and he is not, and the world is cold. | General | Full Disclosure: This is my story.

Meet Me Under The Table by avatarfan16 – A story of how Toph and Aang find love, in the most unusual of places. TAANG | K+

Aftermath by Zaram'delar – In any celebration, there's always one or two people with a habit of disappearing. Taang drabbleish series. | T

I Choose Dare by for_darkness_shows_the_stars – An ode to how Aang, under the power of a mighty temptress, was forced to grow a beard. Oh, and the birth of his first child, too, he supposes. | General Audiences

Multi-Chapter, In Progress

Heartbeat by AngelicBee – Avatar Aang's soulmate probably died 100 years before, but he can't help but feel she's closer than he thinks. | Teen and Up

a mighty ocean (or a gentle kiss) by poweradequeen – no, the title doesn’t make sense but i don’t care. i couldn’t think of one so now you’re stuck with a cheesy line from two by sleeping at last.it’s a taang fine arts university au. because i said so. | Teen and Up

Neither is Love a Cage by cali-chan – Love is the freedom of flying accompanied. It is letting be without possessing. PG-13 (possibly M later on), drama/romance/angst, Zuko/Katara + Aang/Toph, post-finale but diverges before LoK canon.

Operation: Zutara (REVAMPED) by dtmars – Everyone could see that those two were in love with each other. Everyone except for them. So Toph takes the initiative and fills in for Cupid to give them a little push, while Aang just tags along for the ride. | Teen and Up

Taang One Shots by stitch1830 – A collection of short stories about Toph and Aang that I've had saved in my notes for a few months. Stories are in the ATLA/LOK universe (not canon compliant), and typically revolve around their relationship and family. | Teen and Up

[personasintro]

My Tiny Secret | 18; Worth It

𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 | 18; Worth It

⏤𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; Pretty face doesn’t make it up for an ugly personality. And Kim Seokjin is the perfect proof of that.

⏤𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seokjin x reader

⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst, smut, mistress au, unexpected pregnancy au

⏤𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: strong language, mature content

⏤> 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙

a/n: this is a continuation and the last flashback from the previous chapter!

The ride is quiet, accompanied by the soft music again that should ease your mind, but it doesn't. Giving him your address and watching him to tap it into the touch screen of his car, was tense. He doesn't speak, focusing on the dark road ahead of him, his face illuminated by the street lights every now and then.

Deciding it's better to focus your eyes elsewhere, you pull out your phone to find a single message from Taehyung. He never texts you unless it's something about your shifts, but this time he shows his worry about you. You text him back, saying you're on your way home now. It takes him a whole minute to read the text and send you a thumbs up emoji.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

Your head snaps to the quiet, but still prominent voice. He's not looking at you, even when he stops at the red light as you lick your lips nervously.

“I don't have a boyfriend.” you tell him, sinking into the leather seat that's too far comfortable. You could fall asleep right away.

“I know,” he says, causing you to look at him again.

Did he stalk you? Does he know more than he shows? Before you can let your mind and thoughts go wild, he continues making your shoulders relax.

“I don't think you'd come to see me, if you had a boyfriend.” he simply explains.

He's making it sound like he knows you, and it irritates you but you stay quiet. Is he just trying to be smart, making you think he knows everything or he's just quietly observing you and then letting his thoughts speak out loud.

“Why were trying to get to know me? Asking all those questions...” you trail off, mentally sighing when a green light shows up and he puts car into drive again.

“What were you expecting me to do? Stare at your face and stay silent?”

You're dumbfounded for a second, thinking about the right answer.

“Can't man be a curious?” he questions, but doesn't say anything further.

It felt fresh for him – to talk to someone who's not trying to impress him, or is intimidated by him. He can't explain it himself, something about you made him curious. Of course, he hoped he'd get some information about your father. When he saw the emotion flash behind your eyes, when he talked about your father, he thought you were lying to him. He asked you and invited you to a dinner, in hopes you'd tell him sooner or later. But instead, he feels almost stupid for doing that. But how can he trust a stranger?

You don't trust him either.

Some part of him still thinks you must know something. It's your father for fucks sake. Hasn't he made any contact? He just stole the money and left? Some part of him naively thought, that your father would come up to you and give you some amount of those money. Seokjin's not stupid. You work at some stupid coffee shop that probably pays you much less than you deserve.

Even the address of your apartment building tells him, that it's not that great neighborhood.

“I'm sorry,” you choke out, eyes wide as your voice fills the silence. The melody from the radio is barely recognizable, making your voice stand out even more. “I'm sorry that my father stole your money. I'm so ashamed for that, I can't believe he'd stoop so low.” you tell him, seeing your apartment building.

He parks it at an empty space, his sport car between two old vehicles is looking almost comical.

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, turning his head to look at you. “You didn't do it. You're not responsible of your father's actions.”

It's weird, but even the small sentence puts you at ease.

“I know that,” you mumble, fumbling with your fingers as you feel a warm air hitting your exposed legs from the heating. “How can I look at you and talk to you, when I know my father did something like this?”

You're ashamed, even though it's not your fault.

“Maybe I can pay you back? I'll send you some amount every month.” you suggest.

Even though it's your father's shit, you can't help but feel guilty. You don't want to be known as a thief's daughter, and you definitely don't want the police to be involved. They'd just question you about him and you'd never be able to move on from him. Something, that you've worked so hard on would be shattered in seconds.

“Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart. But I doubt you have fourteen million won.”

You choke on your spit, your hand flying towards your chest as you cough. “What?!” you almost yell.

“Besides, you have nothing to do with this.” he sighs, fumbling his eyes as he looks tired.

He's right. You don't have that amount and it would took you years, to earn that kind of money. It's better if you'd just drop this and go back to your old life.

“You wanna come upstairs?” you gulp, the silence that follows after causes a red tint appear on your cheeks.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” he says, unfortunately for you. “You've drank some wine.”

“So? I'm not drunk nor tipsy. I've drank a whole glass of water and I'm completely fine. See? I'm fine.” you point towards your face and for the first time, you see the corner of his mouth lift upwards.

But it doesn't last long before he looks at the street.

“Why are you inviting me upstairs?” he asks, jaw clenching for a few seconds before he looks at you.

“I'm not sure,” you admit. “To talk, I guess?”

He eyes you, eyes trailing all over your face before his brows furrow.

“You're not trying to pay me by...” he trails off, still with those suspicious eyes.

He thinks you're inviting him upstairs to have sex with him, paying your father's debt.

“Oh my god! No! I would never do that! I don't fuck for money, I'm not a slut!” you quickly explain, words stuttering before you grow offended that he'd think such a thing. “You know what-- forget it. Thanks for the drive.”

You're reaching for the door handle, making sure your purse is clutched in your grasp before you open the door.

“Actually, I'd like to have some tea.” he speaks all of a sudden, halting your movements as you slowly turn around.

He's looking at you with the same intense look like he tends to do. You're the one who eyes him this time, wondering if it's a good idea to invite him to your home. Your brain screams at you a huge 'no', but you find yourself sighing before you open your mouth.

“Okay, let's go.”

The walk to your apartment is awkward, the front door creaks as you open them. The awful smell of the hallway and in the elevator is awful but bearable, only because you got used to it. You almost regret inviting him in, seeing in how awful state your building is. He wears a designer suit for fucks sake, and stands in the old elevator that smells like shit.

He doesn't comment on it, slowly following you as you walk up to your front door, opening it with a security code and a key.

As you awkwardly take off your heels, tossing them next to your sneakers, you lead him into your living room. The whole apartment is pretty small, probably in the same size as his office is.

The walls are old, and the small kitchen that's connected with the living room, almost blows his mind. The kitchen counter consists of three counters and he wonders how the hell you cook in there. He asks you for the bathroom, wanting to wash his hands and when you point towards one of the two doors, he makes his way there.

The shower is in typical Korean style, with no curtain, which means you most likely splash everything with water whenever you take a shower. It's a luxury to have a proper shower with doors or curtain, or even bath. It's something that Seokjin has, both of it. Even though the place looks like shit, he sees how you tried to make it nice.

With all those fake plants and Ikea furniture, he has to acknowledge your effort.

When he sits on your two seat couch, a blanket that covers all the stains that got them from the previous owner, he looks almost awkward sitting there. Yet, he doesn't show his thoughts or opinions about your living.

You hand him a cup of tea, the strawberry flavor one as he requested, before you awkwardly sit next to him.

“I know this place isn't much, but it does the job.” you chuckle, cheeks heating from embarrassment.

He stays quiet, blowing some air to his tea to make it less hot.

He has never lived or been in such an small apartment. He was born into a wealthy family that makes sure he'd never end up like... you. It's fucked up, but he can't even imagine himself living like you do.

“Don't you have two jobs?” he questions.

“Yeah, but the coffee shop isn't paying me that much, since I usually work on weekends. And the office job isn't that great either, my boss is a huge dick. I want to quit, but I can't. Not until I'll find something better. I can't loose a job, it's too much of a risk.” you explain, although it's hard to say it out loud.

Especially in front of him, when you feel ashamed for some reason.

“Why is your boss a dick?” he asks, surprising you that he specifically asks about that.

It takes you a moment to answer, causing him to look at you with those dark eyes. “He.. he's known for using his female employees.” you almost whisper, causing him to frown.

“Has he ever...” he trails off, causing your eyes to widen.

“No! Those women want it, it's not like he pressures them into anything. But I just know that he's open to use them, if they're willing to do that, of course.”

“Why would they let him use them?” he asks, genuinely confused.

It's a new emotion that you see, almost making you smile that you got to see him in different light. “I don't know. Apparently he increases their pay, but it's mainly just gossip. But honestly, I think it's true. All of those women that went to that office, got better payment and position. It's hard to fight with that.”

He looks around, glancing at your cheap art that's printed and nowhere near close to be considered as real. He's not much of a art guy himself, but even he can recognize it and see it's fake.

“Have you ever thought...” He doesn't finish the question, glancing back at you, but you know what he's asking.

Your nose scrunches in disgust and you shake your head. For some reason, you get why would he question you about it. Your apartment looks like shit and you could definitely use more money, or even better position.

“No, god. That man is around his forties,” you mutter in disgust, before you realize how that sounded. “I mean, not that it matters. Even if he was my age, I could never do that. That's why I want to quit. It makes me sick to go back there every Monday and every day.”

He nods, taking a cautious sip of his tea and when it's not hot anymore, he goes for another sip. He drinks in silence, making it especially awkward since it's silence. But you've no fucking idea what to talk about, and he doesn't seem to be the one who wants to start a conversation.

“I, um, I gonna change myself if that's alright with you.” you stand up, catching his attention once again as he sees you pointing towards your dress.

He nods, not uttering a word, and you take that as a clue to disappear into your bedroom. Five minutes later, you walk out with black sweatpants and casual shirt, looking basic as ever. You feel much better, and you wish you could just take off your bra as well. That tiny bitch that holds your breast tightly and pushes them up.

“I've to ask,” you speak up, sitting back on your previous spot as you notice the empty cup. He drank the whole tea while you were gone. “Will you go to the police?”

As usual, he doesn't react nor answers right away. He takes his time, making your nerves even more intense and prominent, as his fingers find their way to his black hair, brushing through them.

“No.” he answers, your shoulders relaxing in an instant but your face scrunches in confusion.

“Why not?”

“I don't think it's worth it.” he answers casually, shrugging his shoulders.

“Fourteen million won isn't worth it?” you chuckle, bulging your eyes at him.

Holy fuck, this man has to have a mansion and a huge account if fourteen million won isn't worth it. If it's not worth it, why the hell was he looking for your father? You remember asking him if he'll go to the police, he told you maybe he will.

Kim Seokjin is a confusing guy that makes your heart spin, from all the overthinking.

“No.” he says simply making you gape at him.

“You're crazy.” you say before you can stop yourself, causing him to chuckle.

“You're not the first one to think that, but you're the first one to say it out loud.” he points out, although no humor or emotion can be recognized behind it.

You're about to reach for the empty cup, when you stop in midst. “Thank you.” you tell him, realizing how close you're to him when you meet his dark eyes, looking empty.

You can smell his cologne, see his skin from close and even notice a small mole underneath his left eye. He looks stunning, shame he's so cold and emotionless.

“For what?” he asks quietly, eyes dropping to your lips before he looks back into your eyes.

“For not going to the police. Whatever your reason behind that is, thank you.”

You had the need to tell him that, to show him your gratitude even though you might not effected his decision. You do realize what him, bringing that to the police and court, would do with your life. It's not like you'd have to pay him back or something, but the reason behind your stress is strictly psychical. You'd have to deal with your father's shit again, screwing up your already fucked up life.

Seokjin might not realize what it means to you, but you still appreciate it.

When your own eyes drop to his lips, glistening in the lightening, you're already moving on your own as you press your lips to his. They're so soft, making you want to press them harder but you pull away with red cheeks. You've never been so bold, making the first move. The man is so fucking intimidating, yet you find yourself craving for him.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.” you blurt out, chuckling in embarrassment as he silently watches you.

“Here you were thinking I was trying to get you in bed, when you're the one who kissed me.” he says, cracking the littlest grin that you've ever seen but – it's there.

“I'm sorry!” you blurt out again.

“I'm joking,” he tells you, scoffing slightly. Is he for real? Kim Seokjin jokes? “If you wanted to kiss me, at least make sure it's a proper kiss.” he rolls his eyes, watching your widened eyes before they drop back to his inviting lips.

This time, you're hesitating, your fingers fumbling nervously as you shift on your spot. Seokjin makes it easier, cupping your face before he connects your lips much more quicker and harder, tasting your lips. It's not a single kiss, his mouth molding into yours as he moves them. Your breath is caught in your throat, your lips mimicking his every movement while he blows your mind. You've never been kissed so eagerly and even though you haven't kissed that many people, you're more than sure he kisses so fucking good.

Your hands find their way to his broad shoulders, before you hastily grab his neck pulling him even closer. Your body moves on its own, sitting on his lap before he grabs your waist. The lack of oxygen causes the both of you pull away, but he doesn't stop. His lips move to your neck, tasting your skin there as a faint fragrance sticks to your skin.

You don't recognize yourself. You've never had sex with someone you barely know, but something about Seokjin makes you feel safe. It's crazy and your mind is telling you that you're fucking crazy, but your movements are even more eager. Even when he lays you onto your back, going back to kissing you. His thigh parts your legs, dangerously close to your heat where you crave him the most.

“Bedroom.” you tell him between kisses, glad he doesn't hesitate when he pulls away but grabs you into his arms.

Your legs attach to his hips, silently admiring his strength as he holds you with no struggle. He doesn't ask which one is your bedroom, knowing the other door is your bathroom. He places you on your single mattress that's laying on the floor, no actual bed frame.

Most people sleep like this, but he has never seen it with his own eyes.

He's going back kissing your lips and neck, your mouth open as silent gasps leave, your hands clutching onto his forehead and back of his head. Your body feels like it's on fire, hips rocking into Seokjin's thigh.

He pulls away, brows furrowed as he stares at you. You panic when he sits onto his heels, breathing heavily. His own lips are swollen, abused by your own, but the sight only makes your eyes dance with lust.

“You need to know that I don't make love,” he says breathlessly, catching his own breath. “I don't want you to think this is something more.”

He doesn't say anything further, but you're not stupid. Basically, what he told you is that you shouldn't expect much from this. But you could never see him as a man being in a relationship. That thought haven't even crossed your mind and you're not naive.

“I know,” you whisper. “I don't expect anything more from this.”

When you tell him that you're fine, you've no idea whether it puts him in ease, but he goes back to kissing you. Your body clutches to his, desperate for every little touch he gives you as you grind onto his thigh with desperate moans.

“When was the last time you had sex?” he asks between kisses, grabbing your thigh through the fabric, but you can still feel his strong grip.

You can't even remember. Is that such a bad thing?

“Or are you...?” he trails off, about to pull away in question when you wrap your legs around him.

“No, I'm not. It's just been awhile.” you tell him, suddenly growing scared that he doesn't want you.

But he surprises you when he nods, taking off his suit jacket, throwing it on the floor without care. You gulp at the sight in front of you, his buffed chest and biceps visible through his shirt. The buttons restrain with each time that his muscles tense, while his silver watch glisten even in the darkness. The only sort of lightening coming from the living room, through opened door and the street lights from your opened blinds. Just enough for you to see him and notice such details.

Your shirt is the first one to go, by yourself as you expose your white lace bra. He shamelessly stares at your breasts, and it's hard to guess what he thinks, but you don't want to think about his every reaction. He's here, isn't he?

He helps you with your sweatpants, throwing them over his slacks before he pushes your legs apart, eyeing your clothed pussy. Licking his lips, he glances at you as you stretch your legs even more, giving him a silent plea. He smirks amusingly, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as you stare at him without blinking. His upper body is fit, defined abs decorating his stomach while his skin looks so smooth. You almost wish you'd turn all the lights on to see him fully. But something about the dim lightening makes this scene much more erotic.

He fully takes it off, not giving you any more time to gawk at him before he lays between your legs, face right in front of your pussy. He hooks a finger, very faintly touching your folds which makes your breath hitch. He's pushing your panties aside, before he pecks your clit. You moan loudly, too loud for just a single touch but you can't help it.

You hear him chuckling, your mind wanting to tell him to shut up, but your thoughts are cut off when he starts kissing your clit moving to your folds. He's the first one to go down on you, your eyes rolled back and mouth agape at the new sensation. He leaves you moaning around him, your juices dripping down before he licks them off and starts to devour you with his mouth again. He's basically making out with your pussy, repeating the same process until he's pushing his two digits into you. It takes him a couple of strokes against your walls, before you're cumming against his fingers with a silent cry.

He rides you off your high, licking off your cum before he sits back onto his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks, adjusting his slacks and obvious erection, that makes you salivate.

If you don't, he'd be forced to stop this. He never thought he could get laid tonight.

You sit up, your underwear covering your glistening pussy as you reach towards your nightstand. Thankfully, Hoseok bought you a pack of condoms as a joke. You were about to give them back to him, he'd probably need them more, but that has changed. You examine the box, before you look at Seokjin.

“I'm not sure if it's going to fit.” you mutter, handing him the box as he takes it from you.

He stands up, taking off his slacks and boxer briefs at the same time, making your eyes automatically widen. You weren't prepared for that, to be exposed to his hard cock right away. You watch his hand wrap around his cock, giving himself a few lazy strokes before he opens the package, pulling a condom. He throws the box onto the floor, opening the foil package with his teeth. Silently watching him, he grabs his cock before he slides the condom on.

He gives himself a few testing strokes, eyeing the rubber. “It's a tight fit, but it'll do.” he comments, making you nod as you quickly scurry to lay on your back.

You reach behind your back, unclasping your bra before you toss it away, exposing your breasts to him. He eyes them, pupils blown before he dives in to have a taste. He licks your nipple, wrapping his mouth around it as he starts to suck. Your back arches, moaning when he does the same to the other one. You try to take off your panties, it's a bit struggle but you manage to take them off after a few attempts.

He doesn't waste any time, lining up himself at your entrance as he rubs his cock against your clit and folds. “Ready?” he asks, glancing at you, a strand of hair falling to his forehead.

“Yes.” you answer him, looking at the ceiling instead.

You saw his cock. It's bigger than you've imagined, there's no way you're going to take him easily even after he made you cum.

He slowly pushes in, his head pushing your folds apartment. He's barely in, stretching your hole so much that it makes you whimper. He's holding himself on his elbow next to your head, while the other one holds his cock. Hovering over you, he watches between your bodies as he tries to push in some more.

“Fuck,” he gasps, not even fully in as he pulls out. “I don't think you're stretched enough.” he comments, muttering under his breath as you close your eyes in mere embarrassment.

“Just put it in, I can take it.” you tell him, parting your legs even more.

“It's going to hurt.” he points out, something that you're very aware of.

“I need you to fuck me.”

He eyes you, almost making it seem as if he hesitates, before he sighs and grabs his cock again. He starts pushing in, this time going harder earning another whimper from you. You lock your legs around his waist, making the feeling much more intense as your walls burn with each millimeter that he manages to push in.

It feels like you're having sex for the first time all over again, your hole stretching to adjust to his size. Your own eyes watering at the uncomfortable feeling but you don't tell him to stop, not even when another whimper resounds from the back of your throat.

“I'm hurting you.” Seokjin says through clenched teeth, not even half way in.

He stares between your bodies, watching as your pussy tries to stretch out for him. You shake your head, not sure if he even registers it but he starts to circle your clit. It does feel slightly better, even though it's hard to focus on the burn between your legs. But he doesn't push himself deeper, staying in the same position while he starts to rub your clit. When the first moan scrambles from the back of your throat, followed by couple other ones before he tries to push himself further.

This time it's less painful, earning a silent groan from him. A sound, that you never thought could be so arousing. He pulls out and with each push, he reaches deeper. He does it slowly, and once he's almost fully nestled inside of you, he pushes faster, bottoming out. You both let out sighs of pleasure before he lets you a few seconds to adjust. He pulls out, just to push in back in, gradually moving faster with each stroke he does.

Soon enough, he's fucking into you, groaning whenever your nails dig into the flesh of his back. The sounds of your wetness echoing between the walls of your small bedroom, his balls hitting your ass as he tries to desperately reach his high. He's holding himself with one arm, while the other ones hikes your leg further making him go deeper. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, gasping into your skin as he keeps hitting your walls.

If he wasn't grabbing your body so tightly, you're sure your head would be banging against the wall. When his thrusts turn rigid, you can't hold it anymore. At first, you thought you wouldn't cum again considering he made you cum earlier, still sensitive from the orgasm and stretch by his cock. But now, you feel yourself letting go as your legs shake, whole body freezing before you cum around him. You're clenching him tightly, moaning his name into his ear before he cums as well. His movements turn sloppy, fucking himself through the orgasm and emptying his balls into the condom.

His body slumps his naked chest brushing against your perked nipples, as he stays inside of you, breathing heavily into your neck. Your hand reaches automatically into his hair, caressing him as he tries to calm down. He's still careful not to crash you underneath his weight, before he pushes himself off you.

You both grimace as he pulls out, taking off the condom that's full of his cum. Tiredly, you point towards the small bin in your bedroom as he ties a knot on it, before he throws it out. He doesn't go back to you, standing in front of you as he watches you with the same dark eyes. You shouldn't expect cuddles from him, or even just him laying next to you as you both take your time. He reaches for his slacks, dressing up his thrown and crinkled clothes.

You awkwardly reach for your shirt, dressing up yourself as well, hiding your naked and vulnerable form from him. When you're both dressed up, he walks out of your bedroom without a glance or word, and you slowly trail behind him.

You're not sure what you're supposed to say and neither is he. The hell, you're not sure if you'll ever see him again, you're not even sure if you want to.

He opens the front door, stopping before he turns around to glance at you. He sees you leaning against the door frame with unreadable expression, matching to his own. He doesn't even utter a pathetic 'bye', he just closes the front door shut behind him and leaves you standing there alone.

Later that week, fourteen million won is transferred to your bank account that makes your eyes bulge out. You're typing frantically, turning on the app of your back as you stare at the huge amount of money in your bank account.

A minute later, a message pops out on your screen, showing you a number that you thought would never contact you again. It's not saying much, only one sentence that makes you stop breathing.

'Make sure you find yourself a better job'

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