#it was supposed to be a body study on its markings LOL

[mistxmood]

mods are asleep post more doodles

[koqabear]

Like Cat and Mouse!

☆ Playlist! ☆

"You seemed to have garnered quite the reputation for you on campus— one that had the word “trouble” following you like a shadow. But when you give Beomgyu an offer he couldn’t possibly turn down in exchange for helping you get your grades back up, how could he refuse? You can’t possibly be that hard to handle, right?"

Beomgyu x fem!reader, ft. Hueningkai

Genre: college au, slowburn (kinda..?), tutor!gyu x rich girl!mc, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 37.1K

Warnings: mc is a bitch, and maybe a bimbo? gyu wears glasses, and he’s like super super shy, mc gets sick for a scene, she rambles but its part of her character ok!, toxic relationships, pining/unrequited love, Yunjin is so fake here im sorry Yunjin, mentions of alcohol/drinking, the puppy gyu agenda is fucking strong here !!!

Smut warnings: multiple smut scenes first of all, fwb!huening, dom!hyuka, switch!mc, sub!gyu, (the worst case of sub gyu yet), virgin!gyu, breast play, dry humping, biting, pet names (f rec: princess, m rec: puppy, good boy, baby, slut, etc.)  mentions of bondage (f. rec.), spanking (f. rec.), degrading, praise, praise kink, finger sucking, oral (f. & m rec.), handjobs, mouth fucking, cum eating (?), explicit, verbal consent is not stated in two scenes but both parties are willing! Semi-public sex, overstimulation, slight thigh riding, marking, hair pulling (m. rec. lol), begging, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, cockwarming

notes: i don't even know what to say... there's really no reason for this to be so long, how did we get here. i hide my face in shame.

It all starts as an accident— a very inconvenient accident.

Really, it wasn’t your fault; how were you supposed to keep up with these endless assignments that only seemed to get worse as time went on? You had better things to do with your life— studying is way too much of a headache for you these days. 

Instead, your days have been filled along the lines of parties and trips your friends hold, gaining connections with people that always help things go next level; Empty vacation homes, yachts, even a private jet once— you were lucky enough to land a friendship with these type of people, the thought of taking things slow and worrying more about your education not crossing your mind anymore once you got a taste of the fast life. 

Which is exactly how you got where you are now. 

“There goes your man,” Yunjin’s elbow is sharp against your side as she whispers teasingly, the jab only making your frown deepen as you weakly attempt to shake her off. 

“Shut up.” That’s all you can manage as you go to lay your head down on the dining hall table, your appetite long gone as your head swims and your stomach twists with nausea; her single jab is enough to remind your body of its terrible shape, your eyes shutting tightly as you fight through the urge to hurl then and there. 

You’re not even sure of what she might mean— you don’t remember telling her about any recent hookups— hell, you don’t even remember gawking at anyone in your vicinity; so for her to be teasing you about this “man” of yours was strange, a pout forming on your lips as you try to focus on the cool feeling of the wood beneath your skin.

“I gotta go,” Yunjin says abruptly, your eyes opening to send her a confused look. All she can do is give you an eager smile, patting your head as she grabs her now empty coffee cup from the table. “Your man is coming this way.”

Before you can ask her what man she could possibly be talking about, she’s off, not bothering to look back as she sends you a little wave over her shoulder, perfectly manicured nails glittering under the sunlight that shines through the windows. 

The seat in front of yours is quickly filled. 

“You weren’t at our study session yesterday.”

Jesus. 

There’s not much you can say to that, clearly guilty as you choose to press your forehead against the cool table in response. Maybe, if you close your eyes, he’ll disappear— if only it were that easy. But instead, you’re stuck with Choi Beomgyu and the warm scent of coffee that follows him— god knows how many cups he drank as a substitution for sleep. Your lashes flutter against the table as you attempt to drown out his whines, surprised that he hasn't taken your unresponsiveness as a hint to go away.

“Have you ever gone to Paris?” You ask, the sentence flying from your mouth and interrupting his rambles. It’s enough to shut him up, sitting up as you plant your hands firmly on the table in a weak attempt to not lay your head back down.

“No, I haven’t.”

His response is typical— you didn’t care whether or not he would say yes, leaning into the table as you stare into his eyes; it’s clear he’s flustered by the action, leaning back in reciprocation as his pupils land everywhere but on you. 

“If you had the chance to go to Paris right now, would you?” It takes a moment before Beomgyu nods his head hesitantly, mouth opening as he prepares a new line of questioning for you. But you’re quick to cut him off again, clapping your hands in satisfaction as you stand up— his eyes follow your every movement, face resembling a lost puppy as he watches the way you get ready to leave.

“Exactly; Paris really is beautiful by the way, definitely recommend going. So you can’t blame me for ditching our study session yesterday, can you?” Tilting your head, you watch the puzzles connect in his mind. “We can always make it up or whatever, not that big of a deal.”

Turning around, you don’t bother saying goodbye to Beomgyu; your only thoughts center on your beautiful, comfy bed and how you’ll spend the rest of your day in it. You can hear him calling out to you, the sound of a chair scraping against tile catching your attention as you force yourself to walk faster. 

“We have class in fifteen minutes— where are you going?!”

He’s gaining up on you. You don’t care if you have to sprint out of the building, but the last thing you’ll do is get stuck in another of Beomgyu’s self-righteous rambles as you curse wildly under your breath. 

“Home— I’m sick!” 

Carelessly, the exit door is slammed on Beomgyu’s face— by accident, of course. Glancing back, you’re able to catch a glimpse of his pathetic puppy face, clearly discouraged from trying to continue chasing after you. 

Normally, one would be compelled to feel guilty— but the day is simply too nice, the weather so perfect as a spring wind brushes past your skin; the sun that slightly worsens your headache truly doesn’t seem that bad anymore. 

A perfect day to drive around and shop, in your humble opinion. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 

This new purse would be divine in your collection. 

The luxury bag in your hands is sleek and smooth as your fingertips glaze over the details, entranced by its chic beauty as you let your thoughts wander— formal events, birthday dinners, oh, the places you could take it…

The price tag is no joke— it has you counting numbers in your head, pondering just how much of your monthly allowance you have left; if you buy it now, you’ll have to say goodbye to the girls’ trip at Yunjin’s beach house in Cancun…

Treat yourself, a tiny voice whispers in your mind, you can always beg your parents for more money. 

The devil on your shoulder is compelling— it warps your vision, a pout forming on your face as it practically forces your eyes to see the item in a heavenly light; the last item in that specific collection, and it’s right at your disposal, only a card swipe away…

“Pretty bag,” your little devil hums, “It would look nice with that little black dress you’re always looking for an excuse to wear.” 

His hand is delicate and teasing on your shoulder, his hold on you tight as he pulls you into him protectively. You’re not as surprised as you should be as you look up at Hueningkai, pouting face innocently looking up at him as you shake your head in distress. 

“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to go with Yunjin to Cancun during spring break,” you whine, petulant as always as you refuse his reasoning— yet also refuse to let go of the bag and walk away. 

Anyone who knows you knows how you get about accessories— how obsessive you become with collecting them, your closet always filled to the brim as your need to buy becomes a borderline addiction. 

Maybe that’s why Hueningkai finds your dilemma so amusing, deft fingers snatching the purse from your hands and walking away wordlessly, leaving you to trot behind him as you continue to rant and stall, lingering by his side as a new item catches your eye; you inspect it curiously while the words uncontrollably fly out of your mouth. 

“I mean it’s not like I don’t have enough money, cause I could always ask my parents for more— and they’d gladly give it to me— but I always feel so horrible to ask for more, especially now that I’m supposed to be getting more independent, even though they always talk about spoiling me because I’m their only daughter, but still, I really want it but if I buy it I’ll have to ask them for more money, and it’s not even a big deal but it feels—“

“Oh my god, okay!” It seems you were too distracted by the tweed Chanel bag in your hands to anticipate the shopping bag that Hueningkai thrusts into your hands, exasperated at your ramblings as he swiftly manages to shut you up. 

You’re left speechless, sorting through the filling paper dumbly as you’re greeted with the same bag that Hueningkai snatched from you— your sparkly eyes look up at him in awe, unsure of what to say as he simply smiles at your reaction. 

“Huening…” you pout, clutching the bag to your chest with one hand as you slap his chest with the other— his very firm, strong chest… “you shouldn’t have.”

He’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you into him and guiding you out of the store as he leans into you; you can smell his cologne so perfectly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers softly into it.

“It’s okay,” he smiles, endeared by the way your eyes shine with anticipation to his words, “I know of a few ways you can make it up to me.” 

There’s no need to call your driver— Hueningkai knows the way to your apartment like the back of his hand, one relaxed at the steering wheel while the other plays with the hem of those skirts you always like to wear.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

“You’re such a tease,” Hueningkai’s lips are plump and bitten at as you smile against them, his hands never straying from your ass as he grasps at it, enjoying the way you grind against him expertly.

“Just wanna make you feel good,” you pant, the warm feeling of his hands on your tight-clad thighs making you whine, your pussy slotted perfectly against him as you feel the way he grows harder underneath you.

“You’re always so good to me…” you trail off the moment his lips begin to wander down your neck, attempting to pull off your thin sweater as his hands immediately find themselves on your breasts. He can only let out a breathy laugh at your words, his teeth sinking in the plump flesh softly before his fingers are working your bra off. 

“Always buying you your favorite things?” He rasps, groaning softly at the sight of your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as he looks up at you teasingly, “my princess will do anything for a pretty purse, hmm?” 

Frantically, you nod, his hips bucking into you as you feel the way his cock presses against you effortlessly; he’s as eager as you are, warm tongue on your skin making your thoughts run wild as you imagine what it would feel like to have him pressed against your cunt, helpless to your needs as your fingers card through his hair.

“Come on pretty girl, show me how grateful you are,” your thoughts are immediately dispelled as Hueningkai pushes you off, a gentle hand pushing away your hair before he’s guiding you down to your knees; his favorite sight, your doe eyes fluttering at him innocently as your hands make quick work of his belt. He can’t help but groan at the sight before him, lip caught in his teeth as he silently wishes for you to hurry. 

Hueningkai takes the belt from your hands, placing it to the side as he smiles down at you coyly— you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation, your mind going back to the many memories of your face pressed into the mattress as your bound hands desperately begged to touch him. Your fingers are delicate as they pull down his zipper— he’s become impatient, lips parting as he gets ready to make a witty comment. 

His thoughts are interrupted by a persistent ringing of your doorbell. 

He’s devastated as he flops back into your mattress— a loud groan escapes him, brows furrowing as he grows irritated at the ringing that echoes throughout your apartment. 

“Jesus, what the fuck is their problem?” He complains, running a hand through his hair before he sits back up; he’s smiling fondly at you as he caresses your cheek, sighing softly as he nods his head towards the door, “go see who it is, won’t you princess? Make it quick.” 

The look that you two share is nothing but mischievous, his lips connecting with yours in a chaste kiss as he helps you up; he’s tugging your sweater roughly over your chest, straightening your skirt before he’s sending you off— not without one last feel of you, the stinging sensation that lingers on your ass making you yelp as you send him a playful glare— he can only send you a sly look in return. 

This better be important, you can’t help but think, sighing heavily as another three persistent rings of your doorbell echo throughout— you groan, rolling your eyes as you swing the door open wildly.

You can’t say you’re surprised as Beomgyu stares back at you in shock, his wide eyes blinking rapidly as he takes you in.

“What.” Your tone is unwelcoming as you lean against your doorframe, arms crossing to cover your chest as you raise a brow at him in anticipation— he stutters uselessly, pushing up his glasses as his eyes fly about your apartment wildly— refusing to look at you for more than a second. 

“You didn’t answer my messages,” or calls, he whispers weakly, tugging at the hem of his sweater as he stares down at his dirtied shoes, his other arm hidden behind his back. He clears his throat, gulping as he looks into your eyes, pushing past the annoyed look that greets him as he continues, “You didn’t look well this morning, so I wanted to check up on you.”

You’re not sure what to say as Beomgyu whips out what was hidden behind his back—you’re leaning back as you stare at the cute, floral lunch bag that Beomgyu thrusts into your face, hesitantly taking it as you look back at Beomgyu in confusion; it feels warm in your arms.

“It’s soup.” He says, his ears reddening as he takes in the bewildered way you’re staring at him, “It’s my mom's recipe, it’s— it’s really good.”

“Yeah? We’ll be the judge of that,” Hueningkai has snuck up behind you as he wraps an arm around your waist, effectively pushing you back against him— you can feel how hard he is against the swell of your ass, eyes widening as you get what he’s hinting at, impatient fingers digging into your skin softly. 

Beomgyu seems just as surprised as you are at Hueningkai’s appearance, if not more. It becomes your turn to become embarrassed as you look over your shoulder to meet Hueningkai’s smug smile, his eyes glistening with curiosity as he looks back at Beomgyu, tilting his head as he frowns.

“Who are you anyway?” 

Beomgyu seems quite offended by his statement, looking at you in shock. You’re scrambling to cut Hueningkai off, letting out a soft laugh as you place a firm hand on his chest— the last thing you need is for Hueningkai to drive away one of the few people that would be willing to tutor you. 

“He’s just helping me out in some classes, that’s all,” you say, placing the lunch bag in his hands before you’re shooing him away, “Put this on the kitchen counter— I’ll see you in a bit.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t miss the look the two of you share— if anything, it makes his stomach twist in embarrassment, wanting to do nothing more than turn around and pretend as though he hadn’t interrupted you while you were— whatever it was. Hueningkai is cheery as he walks back into your apartment, not bothering to spare Beomgyu another glance as he disappears from your sight; your clearing throat is what gets Beomgyu’s mind back on track. 

“Right. Well,” you say, smiling awkwardly as you reach out for the door, “I’m feeling better. Thanks though!” 

Beomgyu is unable to get out another word as you’re closing the door on him, sneaking in a last comment as you cheerily yell “tell your mom I said thank you!” Uncaring of his reaction as the door shuts in his face; he suddenly thinks back to this morning, shuddering at the memory of him having to walk back to the other exit of the dining hall, towards the building his classes were in— your shared class, specifically— forced to ignore the strange looks everyone gave him as he stared straight at the ground. 

“Isn’t he younger than us? Why was he talking to me like that,” he quietly pouts, his protests left unheard as he’s forced to walk back home, eyes glued to the sidewalk in dismay— the feeling is dreadfully familiar.

“Well that’s sad,” Hueningkai remarks, peeking through your blinds as he watches Beomgyu’s figure grow smaller, “Are you actually gonna eat that?”

His eyes flick back to the lunch bag that sits innocently at your counter—you simply shrug, feeling oddly protective of the item as you tuck it behind you, leaning against the counter as you sigh softly.

“His mom made it, I’d feel bad if I didn’t,” you say, biting at your lips as you watch the way Hueningkai laughs in disbelief. You feel a bit bad as you think back to the way you turned him away, his expression pitiful and sad as you slammed the door on his face for the second time today. Yet you don’t get much time to think about it as Hueningkai begins to approach you, hands effortlessly finding themselves on your waist as your head tilts to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss. 

“Can’t believe he interrupted us for so long,” you feel him smile against your lips as he presses you back against the counter, ready to hike your skirt up as his other hand is eagerly wrapping your leg around his waist, “will you make it up to me?”

Beomgyu disappears from your mind like smoke— the smile against your lips is contagious, your hand gently pressing against his chest as you roll your hips teasingly into his, a broken moan falling from both your lips. 

“Of course.“

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

The rest of the day is quite underwhelming. 

You’ve been left with a good fuck and a nice purse, but as you lay in your bed, you can’t help but notice the way your headache never really left— it’s been nothing but a dull ache until now, the pain persistent and growing as you sigh in exasperation; none of your usual remedies have worked for you so far. 

Your body feels hot and weak, yet you’re left shivering as the blankets keep endlessly stacking on top of you. Not even your weighted blanket can lull you to sleep, your figure restless as you toss and turn in your bed, your phone buried in your puzzle of fabric. You’re in nothing but pain— you hate feeling like this, and the sudden grumbling of your stomach truly isn’t helping either. 

Left with no other options, you trudge to the kitchen, opening your fridge as you mentally brace yourself— it’s been a while since you’ve shopped for groceries; there’s not much in there that you could eat quickly, and you can’t find any energy within you to cook. 

The cool fridge door is welcoming against your skin— yet it’s also bothersome as you begin to shiver at the cold, closing the fridge quickly as you frown to yourself; whatever your body has come down with, it sure is annoying. Taking a moment to think, you suddenly find your eyes gravitating to a certain item; ergo, the floral lunch bag that remains untouched on your counter. 

It hasn’t been that long— an hour or two, at most. Whatever Beomgyu gave you couldn’t have spoiled by now, right? 

It’s soup, you recall him saying, biting your lip as you take the lunch bag to your small table, my mom's recipe. 

Unpacking the contents, you hum in surprise— yeah, this looks like a mothers cooking. The Tupperware he’s provided you with is filled to the brim with a nice broth that is still warm to the touch, a side of rice and vegetables also packed inside for you; you’re unable to stop a small awe from escaping you as you take out a small container of tea that has been stored inside for you as well, surprised at how much Beomgyu’s mother packed for you. 

Does she think we’re friends? Is this her way of making me stick with him? You wonder, biting at your lip as you hold back a laugh at the thought— a poor momma’s boy, struggling to make friends as his mother attempts to subtly help him. 

It’s no secret that Beomgyu was a bit of a loner— that’s why you reached out to him in the first place. You knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse you, because he couldn’t even give you the excuse that he had no time; that, and the hefty sum you gave him in exchange for tutoring someone as difficult as you. 

To a degree, you were self-aware— but it only came after the fifth person rejected your offer, saying that you probably wouldn’t even commit once you started. No matter how pissed you were when you were first told that, you were unable to disagree; unfortunately, it also sparked a deep spiraling of self-reflection as your new self-awareness brought you to Beomgyu; by then you were so desperate and ashamed that Beomgyu probably only accepted because he felt bad. 

Tutoring with Beomgyu had its benefits; he was nice, and quite the pushover as well. He never protested too much when you canceled on him, and the most you ever got from being annoying was a long scolding or an exasperated sigh from him— plus, now it seems that free food has been thrown into the mix.

Settling down at the table, you found yourself oddly restless as you went to fetch a small blanket from your bed— it was only then that you were able to find your phone, gasping as it landed roughly on the floor. Going back to the kitchen, you were now able to make yourself comfortable, sitting at your table as you took off the lids of everything that was packed for you— even the tea was still nice and warm in its thermos, everything packed with such care and attention to detail that you couldn’t help but take a picture of it. 

It was delicious as well; the soup was comforting and not too overwhelming on your senses as you mixed in bites of the white rice, fluffy and cooked to perfection as you melted in your seat with every spoonful. The vegetables were steamed and well seasoned; you practically squealed from happiness as you ate, not used to having such a big meal cooked by someone else these days. 

It filled you up quickly— the ginger tea was soothing against your throat, the taste of honey and lime mixed in leaving you warm and fuzzy as you tiredly trudged to bed; you’d have to beg Beomgyu to invite you to his mother’s house later. 

Maybe it did work, you briefly think to yourself, your mind quickly emptying as you make yourself comfortable in your bed, that only made me want to talk to Beomgyu more— maybe it wouldn’t be too bad being his friend. 

A soft laugh escapes you at the thought— your eyelids feel heavy as you struggle to stay awake, eager to sleep through this brief sickness that threatens to overtake you. After this, you’re sure it’ll be an easy recovery.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You think you’re dying. 

You’re hot and sweaty as you kick away your blankets for the umpteenth time, irritated as your body quickly begins to shiver instead. You’re only able to sleep for a few hours at a time, on the verge of tears as the clock on your bedside table reads nine pm— you’re unsure of what to do, already taking medication a few hours ago that seemed to do nothing. Your body is burning up as you toss and turn a bit more, dreading the new train of thought that enters your mind.

Maybe you should call someone.

Maybe they’ll know what to do, you think, holding back nausea that threatens to knock you out as you slowly sit up; scrolling through your contacts, you hesitantly press call to the first person you could think of. 

It rings once— then again, then a few times more before it goes straight to voicemail. 

“Hey, you’ve reached Yunjin’s voicemail. Please leave a messa—“ you sigh as you hang up, attempting to call a few times more before you give up entirely. 

She’s probably at a party. Or with some boy. 

Scrolling through your contacts, you choose your next person carefully— you’re sure they’re not busy right now, they’ve never been one to go to parties as often— 

Ning Ning’s phone goes straight to voicemail as well. 

Groaning, you lay back as you feel your head pounding, your mind racing as you attempt to go through a mental checklist of who you could call— but all you can conclude is that they’re busy, wouldn’t want to help, or you’re simply not that close to them.

“What the hell,” you mumble, pressing your face against your pillow as you sniffle softly— your headache has become unbearable, and you’ve always been a big crybaby whenever you got sick. 

“Do I not have any friends?” You ponder, your stomach sinking at the thought— there’s no way! If anything, your phone was always on silent from the number of notifications you got in a day; you always knew at least ten people when you walked in a room, the elite definition of a social butterfly— the last thing you would consider yourself is friendless. 

Maybe it’s just an unlucky time, you think, playing Russian roulette with your contacts as your finger presses on a random one; Hueningkai <;3 glares back at you in bright letters, your eyes narrowing as you consider calling— he’s always been one to spoil you, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched for him to help you this once, right?

You’re nervous as the phone rings out into your room, your fingers tapping on your bed impatiently as you wait for him to pick up— just when you think he won’t, his voice greets your ears like a miracle. 

“Hey baby, what’s up?” His voice is a bit rough as he speaks, his speech slow and relaxed as your eyes narrow at the sound; he’s probably high again. 

“Hueningkai,” you cry out softly, unable to help the way you become emotional in your state— your voice is muffled, your face buried in your pillow as the pain becomes far too overwhelming. 

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice has become more alert at the sound of your sniffling, the sounds of rustling from his side making you wince, your hand going to lower the volume of your phone. 

“Dunno. I’m sick,” you say, flipping over onto your back as you stare up at the ceiling— you feel tired, yet you’re unable to get comfortable enough to sleep. You hear more rustling on the other side of the phone— Hueningkai sighs, mumbling something to himself before he clears his throat.

“Why don’t you go to the doctor, hmm?” You frown at his words, shaking your head at the thought— you weren’t really expecting this outcome. 

“I— I can’t really get up, I feel dizzy…” you confess sheepishly, the realization that you truly don’t have enough energy to even stand for too long weighing down on you, “I was wondering if you could come over?” 

“Come over?” Hueningkai echoes, humming softly at the thought— it’s silent, the tension leaving you biting at your lips as you wait for him to respond.

“Listen, uhm,” you sigh softly at his words, closing your eyes as you attempt to ignore the way your stomach dips with disappointment, “I’m kinda busy right now. But if you want, you can call me tomorrow and I can take you to the doctor, ‘kay?” 

Attempting to swallow down your disappointment, you nod, a moment of silence passing before you realize that he can’t even see you. 

“Yeah. Okay.” There’s a lump in your throat as you speak, and you can’t help but feel the way your body heats up as the line falls silent; from embarrassment, this time. It’s awkward, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Hueningkai mumbles a soft “okay then. Goodnight,” the sound of him hanging up the last thing you hear before you’re shrouded in complete silence, the darkness of your room threatening to swallow you whole. 

The sound of your stomach growling angrily is the only thing that breaks the silence. 

A frustrated groan tears through you— you’re oddly emotional as you force yourself to sit up, pausing as you attempt to maintain balance; your head is spinning, and you’re beginning to realize how long it’s been since you last ate. The floor is cold under your feet as you trudge to the kitchen; you can’t bring yourself to turn on the lights, your slippers lost somewhere in your room as you feel a shiver wrack through your body. 

What will you do? Your fridge is practically empty and takeout doesn’t sound too appealing to you; you can feel tears well up in your eyes once more, a pout forming on your face as you slump down on a chair in defeat. Sighing, you think back to earlier— the homemade food Beomgyu brought to you, so soothing and filling it almost reminded you of the meals your cook back at home would make for you— maybe you could call your driver to take you home for a bit. 

It’s hours away and he’s probably off right now, you frown, checking the time on your phone just in case— 9:45— yeah, he’s definitely home by now. Of course, nothing is stopping you from calling him and telling him it’s an emergency, but then you’d feel far too guilty about ripping him away from his family just for you. 

He spends enough time at our home as it is, you think, placing your phone on the table as you go to massage your temples weakly. You need to eat something— maybe you’ll get some energy from it. But, picky as always, you can’t seem to find anything that sounds appealing to you; even the restaurant you frequently eat at doesn't seem to be doing anything for you, your mind inevitably going back to the one thing you were avoiding. 

Hesitantly, you pick up your phone— you can’t believe you’re actually going to try this, you think, biting at your lip before you finally press call; then again, this isn’t entirely out of character for you.

A lonely college student that doesn’t have many friends— if anything, he’s probably up studying right now, you think, frowning as you press your phone firmly to your ear, and if he was willing to check up on me, he should be willing to do this small thing for me too. 

“Hello?” The relief that floods through you is surprising; you’re becoming lax against your seat as the sound of Beomgyu’s uncertain voice meets your ears— his voice is gruff and soft as he speaks, unsure of whether or not you called him on purpose. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” you whine, already feeling yourself becoming unnecessarily emotional as you allow yourself to rant to him, “I’m sick. Can you do me a small favor?” 

On his end, Beomgyu is oddly surprised— why would you go to him of all people? He’s a bit weary as he listens to you carefully, thinking back to the way you were able to shut him out effortlessly; if anything, he must’ve been your last resort.

“What is it?” 

You’re unable to hold back the sigh of relief that escapes you— a smile graces your lips, and for the first time during this miserable experience, you don’t feel helpless. 

“Okay, hear me out please,” you start, sitting up as you clear your throat; unbeknownst to Beomgyu, you’re about to begin one of your infamous ramblings. 

“I know you might be busy studying or whatever, but I promise I’ll be quick. So, you remember the food you gave me earlier? I actually ate it, and it was really good! Your mom is a good cook, but then again, I’m pretty sure all moms are pretty good cooks. But like, I’m gonna be honest with you, I forgot to get groceries earlier this week, so I don’t really have much to eat— I could go order takeout or something but the thought of eating something greasy right now makes me wanna puke. I was thinking that since you probably don’t go out that much your mom might have given you extra servings of that soup, and I know it sounds really entitled and a bit bitchy but do you think you could please please please drop some off? 

“I promise I’ll pay you whatever and you seriously only need to drop it off at my door, it’s just that her cooking was really good and I almost started crying when I ate it— I get really emotional when I’m sick so I also think it’d be best for you to leave as quickly as you can; please please please please I promise I won’t ditch our study sessions for a good week at least, I’ll be good and study! I just think I’m gonna pass out right now and your mom’s food is the only thing I can think of right now… please?”

You feel out of breath as you finally finish your seemingly endless ramble— on the other side of the line, Beomgyu lets out an exasperated laugh. 

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be there.” You’re not sure when you began to get emotional over nothing, but you’re surprised to feel hot tears streaming down your face at Beomgyu’s words, a few hiccups escaping you as you let out a soft really? “Yeah, I’ll just leave it at your doorstep.”

Standing up, you stumble a bit as you wipe your tears away. If you hadn’t scared Beomgyu away before, you surely did now. 

“Drop it off inside. My door’s gonna be unlocked.”

There’s an odd pause after you say that; you’re about to question what happened before you hear rustling on his side of the phone, Beomgyu’s soft hum the last thing you hear before he lets out a soft “okay. I’ll be there.” You’re unable to thank him as he’s quick to hang up— and the exhaustion that has been building up inside you all day is suddenly released, the promise of food making your brain at ease as you slowly make your way over to the couch. 

You’re so tired— a small nap wouldn’t hurt, right? It would be nice to wake up to the sight of food at my doorstep, you think, a small smile easing onto your face as you find yourself curling up at the end of your couch; oh, you really can’t help yourself— your eyelids are becoming excruciatingly heavy. 

For the umpteenth time today, you allow yourself to sleep— even if it’ll only last twenty minutes at most. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu is a little off-put as he peeks inside your apartment. 

He feels odd, extremely guilty, and a bit shameful as he pops his head inside, all of his calls have gone to voicemail as he chose the next best option— you did say your door was unlocked, after all. 

He expected you to be scolding him for taking so long after forty minutes had passed, but he found himself pleasantly surprised (and somewhat worried) when his phone remained entirely unbothered; so now here he stands, multiple heavy bags filled with ingredients in his hands as he kicks off his shoes clumsily. 

He finds you fast asleep on the couch; he’s extremely concerned at how trusting you are, but he decides to chalk it up to the fact that your skin is burning hot to the touch and you’re probably not thinking straight— Beomgyu is quick to pull his palm away from your forehead the moment you stir even slightly, jolting into action as he flees into your kitchen instead. 

Placing the bags on your table, he looks back at you in worry— all he can do for now is wet a few paper towels, wringing out as much water as he can before he’s making his way to you cautiously; you’re burning up and sweaty as he dabs the towel on your skin, tutting softly as he finally places the towel on your forehead. 

“I knew you weren’t feeling well,” he scolds you softly, pulling the blanket that has fallen off your shoulders back on you carefully before he’s pulling away, rolling his eyes at the sight, “you’re lucky you practically pay my bills.”

Quietly, Beomgyu gets to work— he feels a bit bad for rummaging through your kitchen so boldly, but he’s sure you wouldn’t really mind if you woke up; you’re the one who invited him in the first place. 

At some point, Beomgyu finds himself quite comfortable in your kitchen— it’s quite spacious and allows him to get lost deep in his thoughts; he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s unable to pick up on the fact that you’re wide awake and slowly trudging your way to him. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” the sound of your voice is enough for him to practically jump out of his skin, narrowly missing his finger as he hurriedly drops the knife in his hands, spinning around wildly as he presses himself tightly against the counter— your tired and puffy face is eerily close to his as your lidded eyes stare up at him, still heavy with sleep as you frown softly. 

“What,” you mumble softly, taking in his flustered expression before your eyes are wandering to the mess behind him— the cutting board of vegetables, the stovetop that is busy with two pots simmering away, a familiar aroma filling your apartment; your eyes flick back to the way he seems both guilty and embarrassed, your head tilting as he watches you slowly piece everything together, “what is all this? Where’s your mom's food?”

Well, maybe not.

Beomgyu sighs— the sight of him shaking his head in dismay is enough to have your eyes widening with surprise, watching as he slowly turns his back to you; the constant rhythm of him cutting vegetables is the only sound that fills the room, and it seems that Beomgyu won’t be answering your question any time soon; you’re ready to protest and annoy him until he talks, but it seems he’s quick to beat you to it. 

“My mom wasn’t the one who made it,” he sighs, putting his knife down as he quickly goes to the pot of soup to give it a mix; your eyes are fluttering shut at the smell, a small smile gracing your lips as you fight the urge to have a taste then and there; but you’re snapped back to reality from his words, stammering as you look at him in confusion. 

“But— you said it was—“

“My mother's recipe,” he draws out, dropping the seasoned vegetables into a third pot as you watch them get steamed, “I’m the one who made the food.”

You think back to the floral lunch bag he handed to you hours earlier; how he seemed so hesitant to give it to you, oddly pouty as he watched the way you were quick to hand it to someone else— you feel yourself become embarrassed by your behavior, oddly defensive as you remember how much you begged for him to give you another taste.

“Oh. Okay,” you say, clearing your throat as you slump back down on a chair— you found it entirely too exhausting to be standing for that long, “it was the next best thing for me anyway— my driver is off right now so I have no one to take me anywhere.”

“I see you’re feeling better,” Beomgyu mumbles, rolling his eyes at your actions as your usual bratty self resurfaces; he almost found your delirious, emotional self from earlier more welcoming than this, forced to listen to more of your ramblings as you watch him cook. 

“No. Not at all actually,” you complain, the ache in your body suddenly much more noticeable than it was a few minutes ago as you cross your legs on the chair; you’re huddled up in your blanket again, staring at his back as you practically take out your pain on him, “my head feels like its gonna explode— my body’s so fucking hot but I can’t take this blanket off or else I’ll feel like I’m freezing my ass off. I don’t know what to do because I never get sick like this; if anything, I should’ve called our family doctor instead of you.” 

You feel a bit bad as the words come out sharper than you intended— Beomgyu is easy to read as he flinches at your statement, head ducked down and an awkward silence permeating the room as he says nothing in response. 

“…you’re lucky your mom taught you how to cook,”  you backtrack, your voice oddly soft as you press your lips together; you refuse to say anything more as you curl up tightly on the chair, laying your head down on the table as you attempt to let your blanket shield you from the world— you’re back to your unpredictable, emotional self as you feel a lump forming in your throat, a feeling of longing forming inside you as you wish you were home instead of here, pestering your poor tutor in exchange for a hefty sum of money.

“Hey,” his voice is much closer than you expected it to be as you peek up from your small fortress, raising a brow as you stare at the glass of water and pills in his hand, “take this. I’m guessing you haven’t taken any medication for your fever in a while.”

A soft ‘hmph’ is all that leaves you as you reluctantly accept the medicine (because the truth was that he was right). It isn’t until he shows you what he’s giving you as you take the pills begrudgingly; you hate that he can see through you so easily. Chugging down the glass of water, you fail to notice how he waits beside you patiently, sending him a petulant look as you wait for him to say something— instead, he raises a small thermometer to your forehead, taking your temperature as he lets out a soft tsk.

“Your temperature is way too high. Eat, then go back to sleep,” he says, only leaving your side to get you a proper serving of soup; it’s the same meal you had earlier, but you’re oddly excited as you notice the hefty amount of rice he gave you, a new side of him peeking through as he watches you carefully— it’s only when you send him a questioning look that he becomes red in the face, clearing his throat awkwardly as he points back to the mess behind him.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it,” he mumbles, not bothering to look you in the eyes as he quietly begins to take care of the dishes. 

“I wasn’t going to,” you remark, your mouth still full of rice as you scoff softly at his excuse— you find yourself oddly annoyed with him as you take in just how much he’s doing for you, unable to fathom anyone else doing all this for you, unprovoked.

He must really need the money, you reason with yourself, unsure of why else he would do such a thing— you roll your eyes at the thought, any intimacy that might have come from all this dissolving into thin air as you become oddly irritated with him. 

But you will admit, this soup really hits the spot. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’re out like a light moments after. 

If Beomgyu said he was surprised, it would definitely be a lie; you were barely awake on your couch for more than five minutes, and by the time Beomgyu finishes cleaning up and putting away the leftover ingredients in your fridge (which was criminally empty for someone who had so much money) you’re already curled back up in your corner of the couch, your temperature only having gone down slightly as you begin to toss and turn in your sleep. 

The wet paper towels that Beomgyu had placed on you earlier are folded neatly on your coffee table— Beomgyu huffs softly as he discards it, wetting some more before he’s placing it carefully on your forehead; he’s unsure of what else to do now, standing back awkwardly as he considers staying to watch over you— your condition seemed pretty serious from how high your temperature was, and it certainly didn’t help that you straight up rammed into the kitchen table and injured your shin from how unstable you were. 

And that’s when you became a crybaby once more. 

He can still see the lingering tears that cling to your lashes, a soft pout forming on your lips as you shiver slightly at the touch of the cool towel. What to do, he ponders, sitting on the couch opposite to you as he watches over you carefully, he’s not sure if there’s anyone else that could take care of you. 

Hell, the fact that he’s here of all people is enough to prove that to him; but also, he should really be studying for that upcoming physics exam that has been concerning him a bit. He glances back at you— calm, undisturbed, only shifting every once in a while as you tuck yourself deeper into the blanket you wrapped tightly around yourself— and he sighs, finding himself oddly torn as he wonders whether he should leave you or not. 

He could go back home and study, but he knows that he wouldn’t get very far, thoughts of you and your condition plaguing his mind as he desperately tried to focus. His thoughts are disrupted as you groan softly in discomfort, shifting restlessly on the couch before your eyes are fluttering open, locking with his instantly. 

“You’re still here,” you murmur, squinting at him as you cough softly, “thought you’d be gone by now.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him; it’s oddly condescending as he finds himself standing up instantly, clearing his throat as he looks away from you and your searing gaze. 

“Yeah,” he says, feeling strangely flustered as he makes his way to the front door; your eyes follow him the whole way there, and he feels so small under your gaze as he goes to slip his coat on. “I was just leaving.”

“Oh. ‘kay,” you shrug, shifting restlessly on the couch before you’re turning your back to him, curled into a ball as you wave at him weakly, “I’ll Venmo you later.”

He can’t help but feel bristled at your careless attitude, still not used to the way you’re always ready to spend money at the drop of a hat despite tutoring you for weeks now. Tying his shoes, he can’t help but glance at you one last time; it pains him to admit he’s slightly worried for you, but the rational part of him tells him it’s just because he doesn’t want you calling him to come back the moment you’re feeling nauseous again. 

Yet you remain still, resembling a rock as your figure is hidden under countless piles of blankets— judging by the steady rise and fall of it, he figures you already fell back asleep. 

It takes Beomgyu an embarrassingly long time to leave— but only because he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t wake up spontaneously and start whining, of course— you remain dead to the world the whole time he watches over you. 

By the time Beomgyu finally makes it out of your doorway, he feels more frustrated than anything. Because even once he gets home to study, he can’t help but keep his phone close-by, worried that you’ll call out of the blue asking for help. 

His phone remains silent all night.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

The next time Beomgyu sees you, he’s reminded as to why you had so many difficulties getting a tutor.

You’re flashy and perfect as always as you stand in the doorway of his apartment, arms crossed and eyes no-doubt narrowed behind your expensive designer shades. Your foot is tapping impatiently at the concrete outside as you tilt your head in annoyance— Beomgyu had made the mistake to ignore the first few rings of his doorbell, much too distracted by his game to remember that it would be you waiting for him.

“So? You gonna let me in, or do you need to tidy up first?” Beeomgyu’s mantra consists of how short your lesson will be today and the paycheck he’ll get out of it— one of the perks of you being desperate was that Beomgyu got to raise his rates shamelessly— and it takes Beomgyu a second to push past your intimidating and prickly demeanor to nod his head and step aside, watching as you push your shades up and secure them on your head.

It takes you a second to slip out of your shoes as you daintily put them aside, and Beomgyu can feel his ears become hot as he watches the way you wince slightly at the pair of guest slippers he hands you— though he tries to tell himself you don’t mean to be like this, a soothing lie that lets him lead you to his living room as he ignores his insecurity.

“Wait, can’t we just go to your room? I don’t feel like studying on the couch right now,” the yawn that rips through you is uncontrollable as you face away and cover your mouth politely— Beomgyu tries to not let his jaw drop to the floor in response. For someone who had never been to his apartment, you sure were demanding. He shouldn’t feel too surprised though, given how blunt you’ve proved to be the entire time he’s known you. 

He’s unable to say no as he gathers the textbook and notebooks on the table and leads the way; he can feel his heart pounding against his chest in fear that you’ll judge him, heart pounding slightly as he goes to lead you to where his room is. (He just hopes you’ll judge him internally, at the very least.)

Meanwhile, you’ve been biting back a smile this whole time; you know you’ve been quite bitchy to him this whole time, but you’d like to think it’s karma for making you study first thing at nine in the morning— his excuse had been the long shift he’d have to cover straight after the tutoring session. 

You’re quite surprised at the size and state of his apartment, expecting something much… cheaper, as you kept in mind how quick Beomgyu was to do something whenever you offered him money. Yet as you walk to his room, you’re left quiet as you take in the way everything in his home practically shines; his coffee table, the couch that lacks any crumbs or trash, and his carpet that seems to be recently vacuumed. 

You find yourself so caught up in the appearance of his apartment that you fail to notice another presence in the living room; specifically, one that lets out a loud chirp, your body jumping back from the startle and eyes growing wide as you search for the source of the sound— your eyes land on a cage tucked in the corner of the room, a bright green bird with big eyes staring at you curiously from within. 

“What the fuck is that?” you say softly— much louder than you intended, really— and Beomgyu is turning back around to see what you’re talking about, eyes widening as he realizes you’re currently staring down his bird with a slight wonder. 

“Oh— that’s Toto,” Beomgyu says, rushing to put everything in his arms down and scurrying after when he notices you beginning to get closer; he’s hovering over you, taking in your expression of curiosity carefully before he continues. “He’s my parrot.”

You let out a soft oh. You seem rooted to your spot as you watch the bird continue to climb around the cage, clearly much more active now that Beomgyu is nearby; the said man notes your obvious curiosity, and before he can stop and have any second thoughts, he’s reaching over you to open the cage. 

“Wait wait, what’re you—” a yelp escapes you and you’re jumping back the moment Beomgyu is reaching inside, hiding behind him and peeking over his shoulder to watch the way he extends a finger out to the bird— Toto— your mouth falling open dumbly as you take in the way the bird immediately climbs onto his hand.

Beomgyu is careful to take him out; you’re still peeking from behind him as you stare down his bird with wide eyes, body tensed as though it could fly away any given moment— you’re flinching in surprise when he’s turning to face you, hands coming up in defense as the bright green bird swings along, not a thought in its beady eyes as it’s suddenly thrust into your face— you step back again, the movement sudden and startling the bird as its wings flap slightly, which in turn startles you again— Beomgyu merely watches in amusement, and he tries his best to contain his laugh in fear of facing your prickly attitude. 

“What the hell,” you breathe out softly, brows twitching and knitting together as you stare at Toto as though it were a foreign creature you’ve never seen, “It’s so… weird looking.”

Beomgyu can only gawk at your comment. 

“He’s— he’s not,” is all Beomgyu can say in rebuttal, offended as he looks over at Toto, examining him in reassurance before he pulls his pet closer to his chest. 

“He’s a handsome little bird,” Beomgyu mutters, and you’re sure you definitely weren’t supposed to hear that, watching in amazement as Beomgyu strokes Toto’s head fondly, the said bird bowing its head so he can get better access, “you’re such a cool guy, don’t listen to her Toto.”

Glancing back at you, Beomgyu seems to realize what he’s just said, and blushes a soft pink— though you’re not sure why he’s acting so shy, you’ve literally been standing there the whole time— and he clears his throat awkwardly, casting his gaze back to his pet and running his finger along the bird gently before he’s speaking again. 

“Do you wanna hold him?”

“I— what?!” you say indignantly, eyes growing the size of saucers as you stare at him, acting as though he’s just told you something extremely offensive, “I don’t want that thing near me, what if it— it…”

You’re trailing off slowly— Beomgyu looks absolutely dejected. You can tell he’s trying not to show his hurt, avoiding your gaze and staring down at Toto instead, but he simply reminds you too much of a kicked puppy to let you continue your baffled ramblings; a moment passes where the two of you don’t say anything, but you finally break the second Beomgyu looks like he’s about to put Toto back in. 

“Fine.”

He looks back at you immediately; his eyes look like they’ve been filled with stars. 

“Give— give me the bird,” you mumble offhandedly, outstretching your hand awkwardly and finding yourself unable to look at him for once; you can feel the heat of embarrassment threatening to creep onto your skin, but you will it away and bite your cheek as you wait for Beomgyu to do something.

After a second, you feel it; the pressure on your finger, the weird texture and the claws that dig into your skin as the bird’s little feet wrap around you, unable to contain the way you shudder at the feeling; your arm has gone rigid and you’re reluctant to look at the pet that is now perched on your hand, afraid that it might attack you or something— but after a deep breath and some mental encouragement, you do it anyway. 

This thing is so fucking creepy, you find yourself thinking, face screwing into one of disdain as you take in the way it simply remains still, freaking you out even further when it suddenly tilts its head in curiosity. 

It begins to climb up your arm. 

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” you breathe out in a panic, extending your arm away from you as steadily and quickly as you can, the thing now perched on your forearm as you bite back a squeal of fear— you’re looking over at Beomgyu in a haste, expression blatantly screaming help me!— and he quickly springs into action the moment your eyes meet. 

“Toto,” Beomgyu coos, clicking his tongue and reaching out to place his hand at Toto’s feet; but the bird only continues to climb up and runs away from Beomgyu, a long, slightly terrified, groan leaving your lips as you can only watch it in horror, much too afraid to jerk your arm and send Toto flying; the moment it’s talons find its way onto your shoulder, you find yourself looking away and praying. 

“Toto,” Beomgyu tries again, a little stressed now as he watches his bird perch peacefully on your shoulder— you, on the other hand, are in utter distress, shoulders tense and eyes screwed shut as you mentally pray for the thing to not peck at you— you think you’ve started to hold your breath now. 

Through your eyes that peek slightly in fear, you’re able to see Beomgyu reach down at the storage unit beneath the cage and grab something; Toto seems to shift on your shoulder from the sight, and you grow tense as you wonder what the hell the man could be up to— with another call of Toto’s name, the bird finally jumps off your shoulder and over to Beomgyu.

Your body practically slumps in relief. 

Beomgyu is back to holding Toto in his hand; your brows furrow at the sight of it eating something strange, your obvious confusion making Beomgyu smile slightly.

“It’s millet,” he explains, slowly moving to put Toto back in the cage before he places the said millet inside as well; with one last gentle scratch at Toto’s head, Beomgyu closes the cage. “It’s like a treat for him.”

“Whatever,” you say dismissively, glancing at Toto one last time before you shudder and turn away, “I don’t wanna see him again.”

Beomgyu isn’t too offended by your comment; if anything, he smiles in amusement, muttering softly that Toto seems to like you— you make a point to blatantly ignore his comment.

Any confidence Beomgyu had built up from before disappears the moment you finally arrive before the door that leads to the room; he’s found himself nervous once more, shifting the materials in his arms and reach out to open his door cautiously; he hopes you didn’t take notice of the way his hand shook slightly.

His room is no different than the rest of the apartment as you stand in the doorway, curiously surveying it all; your brow raises in amusement as you take in the way his personality is scattered throughout the small room. His bed is neatly made and the sheets are pressed to perfection, and the nightstand contains a stack of books that are both thick and annotated. 

In front of you, you watch Beomgyu awkwardly place the books in his arms down on the bed, pushing up his glasses as you allow your eyes to continue drifting around— they instantly land on the desk setup in the corner of the room, your eyes widening as you’re able to recognize how expensive the setup is; two monitors display a random game you seem to recognize, and you let your curiosity get the best of you as you approach it slowly. 

The keyboard is lighting up before you and a headset is hung on one of the monitors, and you let out a soft tsk as you take in the empty coffee cups beside the mouse, the only messy thing about his whole room; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s spilled the liquid over the setup before. 

What surprised you the most however, are the countless picture frames and cute figurines that are scattered all over the room— a lucky cat is perched right at his windowsill, waving at you repeatedly as you’re unable to hold back your laugh of bewilderment; everything seems to be dusted and well taken care of, you’re surprised Beomgyu can ever find the energy to do such things. 

“You play League of Legends?” Is all you say, turning around as you meet Beomgyu’s flustered face; Beomgyu had been on the verge of melting into a puddle of embarrassment the entire time you looked around his room, unsure of what to say or do the moment you approached his gaming setup. He was sure you’d make fun of him, but instead he’s pleasantly surprised as he silently hopes his face isn’t a raging red at the moment. (It definitely is, but you’re kind enough to give him a break and not tease him about it.)

“Oh— yeah. You play?” It’s oddly adorable to watch the way his eyes light up and his whole body perks up excitedly, but you find it even more adorable to watch the way he deflates as you bark out a laugh of surprise, your whole face lighting up as you cover your mouth in apology, feeling a slight pity for managing to make him look like a kicked puppy again. 

“Fuck no!” You say in amusement, unable to imagine yourself doing such a thing, “Huening used to be obsessed with it though.” 

You roll your eyes at the memory, recalling all the nights back in high school where he’d leave you alone in his bed, staying up late gaming with his friends while you hid in his room during social gatherings— but now he “outgrew that childish game,” according to him. If anything, you think he outgrew gaming all together, especially after you expressed how ridiculous the whole thing seemed to you. 

“Huening, the guy from your apartment?” Beomgyu says meekly, eyes downcast as he flips through his notes mindlessly; you scoff, flopping on the bed next to him as you cross your legs daintily.

“Yeah, the guy from my apartment,” you say, leaning in to try and catch his gaze, “what, you jealous?” 

Your comment is enough to have Beomgyu a sputtering mess; you don’t think he could get any redder than he is now as he shoves his notebook into your lap, clearing his throat weakly as he scoots away from you, leaving an offending amount of space as he squeaks out a defensive no. 

“Wouldn’t blame you if you were,” you tease, staring down at the notes as you try to decipher what the hell it could all mean— it’s embarrassing when you’re left on your own for a good minute, unable to say anything about the material before Beomgyu is finally jumping to your aide and explaining things to you; slowly, you settle down and allow him to begin the session. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’d like to pat yourself on the back for lasting so long. Lasting so long without being difficult, that is, because the hour of peace Beomgyu got was short lived before you became a short-tempered brat before him—the only thing that surprises him at this point is the confidence you get to be like this all the time.

“I seriously don’t get this stuff,” you whine, kicking Beomgyu softly as you hold back a smile— it was clearly done to tease him— laying back on his bed as you cross your arms childishly, “I think I should just change my major.” 

Beomgyu isn’t surprised that you find that so easy to say— for a moment, he dreams of being able to do the same when times get tough, but he was quick to come back to reality as he watched you kick at him petulantly; you managed to lay on his bed and make yourself comfortable, splayed over his pillows as you continued to mess around with him. 

“Can’t we take a break? I’ve been good,” you pout, tapping your fingers on your bicep as you look at him sweetly— Beomgyu has to look away in order to say no, tapping his pencil on his notebook as he quietly prays for you to settle down and focus again. 

“Come on, you’re lucky I showed up in the first place,” Beomgyu’s gaze is glued to his notebook as you roughly sit up, your denim shorts riding up your thighs as you kneel close to him; taking a deep breath to calm himself proves to be a mistake as he gets a good smell of your expensive perfume, biting his lip as he watches you try to get his attention by getting closer to him.

“You only showed up because I did you a favor,” it’s odd that you find the way his voice trembles and his ears turn red adorable, but then again, you’d be a little sad if a man didn’t react that way to you. 

You have him wrapped around your finger— it’s a fact that dawns on you as you watch the way he doesn’t shut you down and forces you to study. Scooting closer to him, you lean down, pressing your cheek against his bicep as you stare down at the countless notes that lay before him. 

“Well, that and because you’re kinda cute,” you admit, holding back a smile at the way he flinches at the sudden contact, “But seriously, I’m so bored.” 

Beomgyu thinks you might have gone insane as he watches the way you take the materials in his lap away from him, setting it to the side before you’re stringing yourself across his lap, stretching cutely as you stare up at him with wide doe eyes— he’s quickly looking back up as he fails to find the strength to push you off. 

“I can’t believe I actually came here this early,” you say, adjusting yourself on his thighs before you’re grabbing his hand, playing with his sleeve coyly as you wonder how far you can take this, “How’d you afford this place all by yourself? It’s in a good area too.” 

“I didn’t,” Beomgyu stutters out, clearing his throat as he pulls his hand away from your grasp shyly, “I have a roommate— Yeonjun.” 

“Choi Yeonjun? Captain of the baseball team?” You say, eyes widening as you watch Beomgyu nod softly; you’re sitting up, ignoring the way Beomgyu visibly relaxes at the action, “Is he here right now?” 

“No, he’s out,” Beomgyu frowns, watching as the gears turn in your head, your pout obvious as you take in his response, “he won’t be home for another three hours.” 

How in the hell did he and Beomgyu become roommates? It’s a question you’re quite literally fighting the urge to ask, but knowing that one of the most attractive guys you’ve had your eye on currently lives in the same house as the man before you makes you want to stick around longer— though you think you might be too obvious about it, judging by the way Beomgyu’s frowning at you. 

“That’s nice,” you hum, feeling a bit bad for the way Beomgyu looks away in defeat, “but that means we’re all alone here?” 

Your question is enough to have Beomgyu sitting up straight— your tone is so dangerous, the way you slowly crawl to him even more so.

He quickly finds himself scooting back, eyes flying around wildly as he almost falls off the bed— you’re quick to catch him, pulling him by the collar of his sweater as his adam’s apple bobs visibly. His long hair falls back and his face is left exposed to you, your body finding comfort on top of his as you straddle his thighs comfortably. His glasses are left on the tip of his nose as his ears quickly turn red, cheeks dusted with the same color as he uselessly props himself up on his elbows; you’re practically nose to nose as you tower over him, your cute blouse hanging and exposing your breasts in a way that has Beomgyu staring straight above your head— in return, the reflection of your sunglasses is all that meets him. 

“Do you ever take a break?” You ask, letting go of his collar before you’re gently smoothing it out; he’s shivering at your touch, eyes fluttering shut nervously as he exhales at the feeling of your warm hand— he knows you can see the way he tenses as you begin to trail your palm down his chest, pressing teasingly where his heart resides as you tilt your head cutely.

“Ever stop studying and just…. Take care of yourself?” The implications of your words couldn’t be more obvious with the way your voice drops, your thighs clenching around his body as you watch his breath hitch at the action; your fingers delicately drum against his chest as you wait for him to say something, to push you off and tell you to never speak to him again— instead, he shakes his head, his shyness intensifying as his eyes remain shut. 

“Will you let me take care of you?” You breathe out, entranced with the way his eyes finally open to meet yours— within them, he sees no malice or mockery, just an intense fire and need that has his stomach twisting and his hands grabbing at his neatly pressed sheets in anticipation.

Softly, he nods. 

You’ve never experienced this before; you’ve never had a man pliant and weak under you, ready to take whatever you give him with adoring eyes that sparkle under the lights. You’re so used to being the one in that position, of allowing yourself to be used and molded how they’d like— so to say you’re quite surprised at the thrill you feel is an understatement. 

“You’re like a little puppy,” you mumble sweetly, reaching up to caress his heated cheeks— the whine that escapes him is involuntary, your eyes clouding with lust as you take in the way he reacts to your nickname; leaning up, you grab the collar of his sweater as you guide him to sit up with you— you’re in awe of how obedient he is as he follows your command, hands hovering politely as he waits for your next move. 

“Do you like it when I call you that?” You tilt your head, laying your hands by Beomgyu’s collar bones before they’re sliding up, intertwining lazily behind his nape as you’re leaning in teasingly; you’re so close to him, you can feel his breath fan on your face as you tease the corner of his lips with your own— you’re pulling away the moment he tries to chase you, giving him an expectant look as you wait for him to answer your question. “Puppy?” 

“Y—yes, I…” he’s unable to finish his sentence the moment he feels your chest press against his, soft breasts teasing him as he squeezes his eyes shut; you’re everywhere, your lips planting feather-like kisses on his cheeks as you begin to overwhelm his senses. Your warm thighs that encase him, your hands that play with the nape of his hair, your perfume that he gets to inhale as you tilt your neck closer to him— hell, as you reach his jaw, he’s able to smell your shampoo, the scent addicting and no doubt expensive as you press yourself firmly against him.

This is insane. There should be no universe where Beomgyu should have one of the richest girls in his university pressed against him and on his lap, and there’s no way he’s the one submitting himself so pathetically in it. Yet here he is, practically leaning into your touch and chasing after you the moment you pull away, feeling a whine escape from his throat as he finally finds the courage to place a hand on your hip; keeping you in place, fingertips splayed over the swell of your ass as you try and fail to hide the smile that breaks out on your face. 

“Stupid puppy wants me to kiss him?” You pout mockingly, and instead of feeling the usual shame bubbling within him from your condescending tone, Beomgyu can only feel himself melt pathetically, pouty face and shining doe eyes begging you to give in as you brush away a strand of hair that fell in his eye; Beomgyu’s eyes flutter shut at the gentle touch, lips parting before he finally feels you swoop in and take him by surprise. 

Your lip gloss is sweet and sticky as you ravish the boy below you, able to feel his inexperience and eagerness with the way he’s practically ready to push you back into the mattress— but he holds himself back, allowing you to swipe your tongue along his lip and tease him before you’re venturing further. 

It’s all so lewd and desperate, and Beomgyu feels dazed by the time you’re finally pulling away, a Cheshire grin on your face as you swipe his bottom lip that’s shining with lip gloss and saliva; like instinct, his lips part and close around your thumb, eyes never straying from yours as you feel his tongue swipe over the finger teasingly— your gaze darkens at the sight, mind racing with all the things you could do to him as you watch the way his plush lips circle around the digit. 

The pop that sounds throughout the room when you pull away is enough to make you let out a soft groan, your eyes tracing along his body until you finally find the very thing you’re curious about— smiling, you’re not as surprised to find his dick straining against the neat fabric of his trousers.

“Can I touch you, pup?” You ask, your voice breathy and deep as you wait patiently for his answer; once again, he gulps, shining eyes just as dazed as you are before he finally lets out a soft yes; slowly, your perfectly manicured hand makes its way down to his khaki trousers, playing with the button before you’re finally undoing it— the sigh that Beomgyu lets out once you undo his zipper is practically lethal, your lips twitching in delight at the sound.

It’s cute to see the way his hips buck up into the air as you reveal his boxers, helping you pull down his pants until you’re face to face with the very thing you’ve been wanting the most. It’s odd, but it seems as though Beomgyu brings out a side you didn’t think existed, a teasing smile creeping its way onto your face as you plant your core firmly on him; he’s letting out a strangled gasp at the sudden pressure and warmth, his eyes screwing shut as his lips are falling open, the sight tempting as you resist the urge to kiss him again. 

Beomgyu is like an instrument under your touch, and you’re eager to learn how to play as you slowly begin to rock your hips back and forth; the reaction is instant for him as he bucks up into you, whimpering cutely as his eyes remain shut the whole time. Your thighs feel so soft against his own, and he’s sure he won’t last long if he’s forced to inhale your intoxicating scent the whole way through. 

It isn’t until you’re climbing off his lap that Beomgyu’s eyes are finally flying open, meeting yours in a confused haze as he allows you to push him back and tower over him as he lays; he looks so enticing and pretty with his hair splayed out around the sheets, lidded eyes and fucked out expression oddly addicting to you as you go to straddle one of his thighs. 

“You’re so cute,” you coo, pushing his sweater up as you run your nails teasingly over his stomach— you laugh softly as he flinches at the feeling. Slowly, you’re pulling the waistband of his boxers down until his cock is finally springing out and smacking against his stomach; his tip is red and sticky as a line of precum is left connected to his stomach, his eyes shutting in embarrassment once more as he turns his head to the side in an effort to turn away. He’s so long as you take him in, appreciating the vein that runs along the curve of his shaft with a soft hum.

“Please,” he whines, covering his face with his hands as his body grows hotter the longer you stare at him; you can only laugh fondly at the sight, watching the way his hips buck up uselessly at the sound. 

“My puppy, you’re so pretty,” you sigh, spitting in your hand before you’re finally reaching down to grab ahold of him; the feeling is unexpected as Beomgyu lets out a soft yelp under you, his cries dying out the moment you’re beginning to stroke him teasingly. 

“How long has it been since you let out some steam?” You tease, running your thumb across his tip and spreading the precum along as he simply moans in response; he’s so whiny and breathy as none of your words seem to register in his head, enamored by the pretty girl that’s sitting on his thigh and stroking his cock so well. 

You can’t help yourself when you readjust to kneel between his legs, his face still covered by his hands as he doesn’t anticipate your next move— Beomgyu swears he almost came the moment he felt your mouth wrap around his tip. Your mouth is practically watering around Beomgyu’s cock as you slowly take him in, surprised by his length yet determined to hear more of his pathetic gasps and whines as you slowly take him in. 

“Oh god, oh god, you’re so— y-you’re so warm, oh,” Beomgyu is a babbling mess as his hands land helplessly on your head, unsure of what to do with them as he feels the tip of your nose press against his navel; his eyes are practically rolling back as he feels the mess you’re making on his cock, your mouth so hot and wet he can’t help the way he subtly thrusts into it.

“I’m sorry, I— I didn’t mean to…” his words are dying on his tongue the moment he feels you reach for his hand and pull back, guiding him to set the pace as you run your tongue over his tip— that’s enough to have Beomgyu whining and out of breath, but he’s able to pull himself together as he slowly begins to fuck your mouth. 

“Shit, you’re so pretty, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Beomgyu breathes out, fascinated with the way you remain completely cool even as he begins thrusting his cock into your throat, “so good.”

The sudden confession doesn’t process in Beomgyu’s mind, but it has your mind reeling as you close your eyes, determined to make this man fall apart under you as you ignore the flutter of butterflies in your stomach. 

It takes Beomgyu a second to find his pace as he’s gently stroking your hair, face warm and shining with embarrassment as he tries to ignore how inexperienced he may seem— contrary to what he might think, you don’t really care; the only thing you care for is how melodic he sounds as his hips begin stuttering into your mouth, the feeling of your tongue running along his shaft too much for him as his breath hitches pathetically. 

“Wait wait wait— oh my god, I’m so— Ah, please don’t stop,” he’s whimpering and babbling at your touch, his hand attempting to pull you off as he nears his release; you only sink further in retaliation, the loud moan that Beomgyu lets out giving you satisfaction as you feel his cum spurting against the back of your throat— your eyes are barely able to catch his expression as he throws his head back, hips stilling entirely as he rides out his orgasm. 

Beomgyu is still trying to catch his breath when he feels his hips bucking subconsciously, the feeling of you pulling away making him whine softly from the sensitivity. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, his glasses skewed and his vision a haze as his gaze meets yours— he’s able to catch the way you swallow, your mouth empty as a teasing grin sneaks onto your face.

His stomach flips at the sight. 

He’s unsure of what to do as you sit up, your hair mused and your clothes in disarray as you take him in with an intense stare— he feels oddly shy as he tugs down his sweater to cover himself, gulping nervously as he begins to wonder if this was all a twisted joke— some sort of childish dare, anything that was meant to humiliate him. 

Instead, he feels you reach forward to fix his glasses, brushing away the hair that was stuck to his forehead as you smiled sweetly; Beomgyu thinks he forgot how to breathe as he takes in your proximity, left frozen as you leave a slow, chaste kiss on his lips. 

“I should go— you have work, right?” The question is enough to snap Beomgyu back to reality, nodding softly as you finally get up from his bed; turning to his mirror, you fix your appearance, brows raising in curiosity as you notice the guitar that’s propped up beside it— you briefly wonder if he’s good at playing it, and find yourself wanting to ask if he can sing; you refrain. “I’ll let you get ready then.”

There’s not much Beomgyu can say as he watches you go to his door like nothing happened; he flinches in surprise as you turn back to him one last time, a grin on your face as you send him one final goodbye. 

“This was fun.” 

Beomgyu is left to decipher your words and intentions as you walk away. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Why did you do that. 

“Oh god, why did I do that?” 

You’re a puddle of embarrassment as you roll around in the back of your driver’s car, your hands plastered on your face as you try to melt away from this reality— instead, the memory of Beomgyu’s flustered and fucked out face is the only thing that meets your eyelids. 

You’re not sure what took over you— what in the world possessed you to fuck your tutor? You knew that if you told your friends you’d never hear the end of it, but you think you might be at risk of losing the only thing that was helping you get your grades up after this. 

It was already difficult to get Beomgyu to agree to be in a room alone with you— and now you had to absolutely fuck up and push the boundaries to a place where you’d never return. 

Out of all the men, it just had to be Choi Beomgyu. It’s a fact that makes your face heat up and your head hit the back of the car seat in defeat as you stare out the window in dismay; instead of going for someone who was in your league, you chose to go after a nobody. 

You didn’t even get anything out of it! The thought is humiliating as you shut your eyes and groan, ignoring the way your driver glances back at you in concern; you sucked his dick and dipped— that is so unlike you. 

Everything about the situation is unlike you— you would never go after someone like Beomgyu, he didn’t align with your type at all! The feeling of dread in your stomach is only worsened as you mentally go through the people you’ve been with in the past, cringing the more you realize how much of an outlier Beomgyu is. 

“Mr. Kim,” you call out, pulling down your shades as you avoid the rays of sunlight that are hitting your face. He’s perking up in response immediately, glancing at you through his mirror before he nods his head to indicate he’s listening. 

“Take me to Hueningkai’s house please,” you say, taking your phone out of your purse as you absentmindedly text Huening that you’re on your way— Mr. Kim’s yes ma’am is left unanswered as you watch Hueningkai respond within seconds— all you can do is sink further in your seat at his eagerness to see you, the implications of his message more than clear to you.

The drive to his home is long and silent, and you’re forced to reflect on yourself the whole way through— the more you do, the more flustered and confused you feel, forcing yourself to set those thoughts to the side as Mr. Kim pulls up to Huening’s driveway.

Yet even as you’re walking to his doorstep, an eager smile forced on your face as you wait for Huening to answer, you can’t help the way your thoughts stray. It all seems to linger on the same subject, gulping nervously at the way Beomgyu’s small whines still ring out in your head. 

“Hey,” Hueningkai smiles, leaning against the doorway as he takes you in; you try to ignore the way his hungry eyes take you in, greeting him softly before you’re pushing past him and going inside, kicking your shoes off at the doorway. 

“What’s up?” Hueningkai immediately asks, noticing the way you don’t indulge in any of his games or teasing, your face blank as you plop down on the couch. “You need something?” 

“No,” you say, oddly defensive as you lay along his couch, crossing your legs as you proceed to do the same with your arms, “Can’t I just chill at your place without needing anything?” 

Hueningkai raises a brow at your huffy comment. Tilting his head, he smiles, a gesture sly and teasing as he watches the way you stand your ground. 

“Well, whenever you come over it’s usually not to just chill,” he says, repeating your words with clear amusement, “so forgive me for thinking something was off.” 

You’re in a bad mood today; Hueningkai is quick to pick up on it as you scoff at his words, looking away from him and pouting as you remain silent. Slowly, he makes his way to you, testing out the waters before he’s sitting down at your feet. 

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks, slowly beginning to hover over you until you can’t help but look at him; he’s everywhere, a holding himself up with a hand by your head while the other finds its way to your hip— playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly teasing you until he’s pushing past and caressing your skin— you flinch at the feeling of his cold hand. 

“Come on, we can talk,” he says, but you know he doesn’t really mean it with the way his leg is trying to pry your thighs open, pressing up against your core as he feels something unexpected— his eyes are lighting up as he smiles down at you, raising a brow as he takes in the small change of your expression. 

“Or maybe you don’t wanna talk?” He says, the surprising heat that meets his thigh is more than welcome as he watches you become flustered under him. 

“Fuck off Huening,” you groan, pressing a hand against his chest as you turn away from him— all you get in return is a dark laugh, his lips ghosting along your jawline as he presses a firm kiss under your ear, his hand pushing your shirt up as it wanders towards your breasts. 

“Hmm, are you sure?” He huffs, adjusting his position so that he’s able to place a hand on your hip, grinding your hips against his thighs as he bites his lip at the sight, “won’t you put those pretty lips to use at least?” 

The irritation that had been brewing inside you is far too much to handle as you scoff at his words, your head snapping back to glare at him as you push against his chest firmly, catching him off guard as you knock him off his balance entirely; he’s knocked out of his lusty reverie as he stares at you with wide eyes from the other end of the couch, lips parting as he attempts to say something, only to be cut off by you. 

“Seriously Huening, I’m not in the fucking mood!” You snap, pulling your top back down harshly before you’re standing up— he’s left to watch in confusion as you readjust yourself, your brows furrowed in a mean frown as you glare at him once more— and to think you thought you’d be able to spend more than five minutes with Hueningkai without him wanting to fuck you. 

“Come on baby, you know I didn’t mean it like that—“ 

“Do you ever think without your dick when you’re around me?” It’s annoying to see how nonchalant Hueningkai is as he laughs off your words, crossing his arms defensively as he tries to play off what just happened. 

“You didn’t even think to check up on me when I was sick!” You thought you were over the bitter moment, but the memory still seems to sting as you remind him of a time where you needed him the most, “ever since we started this whole… stupid friends with benefits thing, you’ve been acting like such a prick!” 

“Don’t be like this,” Hueningkai groans, throwing his head back as he runs a hand through his hair, “you’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh my god!” You bark, left in disbelief as you pace around his apartment, “like seriously, are you listening to yourself right now?!”

You’re more than fed up as you make your way back to the entrance, gathering your things and slipping on your shoes as you hear Hueningkai following close behind, spouting excuses and other nonsense to try and make you stay. 

You’ve opened the door when Hueningkai grabs onto you desperately, tugging you back into his chest and asking you to listen to him as he sets firm hands on your hips; you’re looking at everything but him as you remain silent, your hands pressed defensively against his chest as you give him on last chance to redeem himself. 

“Come on baby, you know I don’t wanna lose you,” he says, his voice soft and vulnerable as he leans in, watching as you tilt your head away from him and continue to refuse to meet his eyes. Feeling him press you harder against him, your jaw clenches as he places a sweet kiss on your cheek. 

“Lemme make it up to you. Please?” 

You know perfectly well what his words entail as you push him away from you once more, swinging your purse and smacking him harshly as you let your anger out on him. He has the audacity to laugh and cower away from you as he apologizes, telling you that it was just a joke as you continue to hit him relentlessly. 

“Fuck you!” You say, out of energy and left a huffing mess as you swing the door open behind you, “asshole!” 

You don’t stay around to see his reaction as you slam the door shut, storming away and walking along the sidewalk as you pull your phone out. 

Pick me up please. 

Huening’s being an asshole, I’m waiting outside. 

It’s moments like these where you regret being irresponsible with your car, left with nothing but your driver as you still wait for your precious baby to come out of the repair shop; to this day your parents still scold you for an accident that happened over a month ago, the words “bad driver” tacked on along with the rest that curate your reputation.  

In a perfect world, Hueningkai would’ve come out by now; he would’ve gone after you, apologizing and hanging his head in shame in regards to his behavior— in a perfect world, he wouldn’t have turned into the person he is now, forgoing your friendship entirely to satiate his needs— you hadn’t given much thought to what the consequences to this “friends with benefits” thing would be, but if you could go back in time to the moment where he drunkenly proposed it to you, you would’ve been quick to shut him down with an incredulous laugh. 

It was your fault for having a soft spot for him. Your fault for wondering what his lips would feel like one too many times, for being caught staring at him back when you were just kids and you were forced to attend dinner parties together, trying and failing to conceal the way he could fluster you with just a single smile. 

Now that his desires have been satiated, you doubt he has any use for you now— which is why you find yourself waiting pathetically outside his apartment, not used to this feeling that festers in your stomach as you wait patiently— whether it’s simply for your driver or for the glimmering hope that Hueningkai will own up to his actions and take you back, you’re not sure.

But what you do know is that you’ve never felt so small. 

Moments later, your driver arrives; you swear you try to hold back, but you can’t help yourself from turning around and taking one last peek at Huening’s quiet, dull apartment— gritting your teeth, you flop inside, groaning obnoxiously as you rub your temples in annoyance; your driver is unfazed by your behavior— meeting his eyes, you sigh. 

“I need to go shopping.”

Wordlessly, he nods— you don’t bother to stare out the window once you finally feel the car moving, in fear that your mind may begin to imagine scenarios that simply won’t happen. 

The car ride is silent, and you realize with a frown that you may have left with a mood worse than before.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

This department store is useless.

Geez, did you piss off some god above or something? Because as you stand in your tenth store in the past hour, nose scrunched and brows furrowed unpleasantly, you feel as though you may be getting karma for something— though what it may be exactly, you’re unsure. 

Everything around you is either already in your closet or simply outdated. Your fingertips tap rhythmically against your crossed arms, eyes narrowed as you take slow strides around the aisles of the stores— a part-time employee follows closely behind you, hands folded neatly and a pleasant smile glued to face as she comments on every item your eyes fall on, even if it’s just for a second; your jaw ticks at her cheap tactics to sell to you. 

There’s only one thing that would make your mood at this time— a limited edition purse you have had your eyes on, trying your best to catch your usual stores at the right times in hopes of getting your hands on it. Yet, with every failed attempt, your frustrations and efforts only grow, and you’ve found yourself visiting these stores more often than you’d like, always leaving with an item or two despite telling yourself not to do so. 

“Excuse me,” you say sternly, your steps coming to a halt as you slowly turn to the employee. She’s meek and her voice is airy as she speaks to you, eyebrows raised as though she seems genuinely interested in what you might say next— her act only displeases you more. 

“I’m trying to shop in peace, please leave me alone.” you say, watching as the woman simply flinches at your comment, smile stiffening on her lips before she’s swiftly apologizing seconds after— if you weren’t careful, you could’ve missed the way her lips turned up with irritation as she turned, muttering quietly to herself as though you weren’t two steps away to hear it.

Rich snob, you pick up, blinking in surprise as you watch her steps becoming hasty with her retreat. You don’t allow yourself to be fazed by it, a smile tugging at your lips from amusement before you turn back around; scanning the store, you glance at the mannequins on display, taking in the outfits briefly before you catch onto something else— and before you can control yourself, you’re walking again. 

Don’t be stupid, your brain tells you, yelling at you as you exit the store with haste, pushing past the people standing around as you make your way to the store across, Don’t do this, this is a bad idea, don’t—

Do it, your heart tells you, pounding against your chest as you adjust the purse strap on your shoulder, gulping slightly as you swing open the door, you’re not here for him, you’re here for the very thing you’ve worked so hard for. 

And if it so happens to be in his hands right now, then is it really your fault that you find yourself standing before the very man that hurt you mere moments ago?

“Cute purse,” you breathe out, eyes glued to the way it shines beautifully under the lights of the store, “Though I don’t really think it’s your style.”

Hueningkai doesn’t bother looking up. He’s too busy handling the limited edition purse that you’ve so desperately been searching for, nimble fingers running over the details as though he were actually taking his time to inspect it; instead, he hums softly at your words, pretending to ponder for a second before he’s frowning. 

“You really think so?” he asks, tsking softly to himself before he’s shaking his head, straightening up before he runs a hand against the surface; you watch the way his fingers slide across the material, teeth tugging at your lip as you fight the twitch of your brows, wanting nothing more than to take the item from his hands and walk away. 

You stand there in silence, for a moment; you wonder slightly if Hueningkai is simply ignoring you, and the idea is enough to have you bristling with anger, your jaw clenching as you decide that it’s better to leave now than to look helpless before him— but he’s looking up at you, lidded eyes catching you in a daze as he tilts his head, sending you his signature charming smile. 

“It wasn’t for me,” he says, looking down at the purse in his hands and holding it close to him, as though gauging its weight, “It was going to be a gift.”

“A gift? Quite the gesture on your part,” you scoff, looking at the display area in exasperation— fuck, the only purse in this awful store is in his hands, you realize— leaving you with no other choice but to hope that he’ll stop playing games and leave the purse he clearly never had any intentions of buying, “But I don’t think those other girls you talk to would be very interested in such a specific item like this— I’d suggest appealing to their own interests a bit more.”

With gritted teeth, you reach out to take the bag; an impulsive move on your part, not exactly surprised with the way Hueningkai immediately backs up and holds the bag close to him. You can practically feel your blood boil from the sheer anger that’s taking over from his antics, unamused entirely at the way he merely sends you an innocent smile. 

“Don’t be rude,” he smiles, taking yet another step back, making more distance between you two, “Who are you to say what they would or wouldn’t like? Plus, I saw this first, and I had full intentions of buying it.”

You remain silent— whether you’re too baffled to speak or are simply trying to not explode and yell at him in the middle of the store, you’re not entirely sure— but, as you watch him raise a brow challengingly, you can only find yourself thinking one thing. 

Fuck this. You’ll just order it online. 

The idea takes away the very joy of being able to find it by chance, but you’d rather die right now than grovel to Hueningkai— like he very clearly wants— in hopes that he’ll take pity on you and give you the purse; spinning on your heels, you make your way out with brisk steps.

You don’t get very far before you hear him calling out your name— but you ignore it, a baffled scoff escaping you in response to his sheer audacity to act so shameless after belittling you a few hours prior; you’re a few steps away from the exit when you feel a tug on your wrist, jolting you back and preventing you from leaving.

“What, Hueningkai?” you say, huffing exasperatedly as you shake off his grip on you, “Can’t you just leave me alone for once? I’m not in the mood to play your stupid games.”

“Well then why don’t you talk to me instead of running away childishly?” he says sharply, and you have to bite your tongue in order to not point out his hilariously hypocritical statement, “you’re acting so weird, what the hell happened?”

You think you might just do something that’ll get you banned from the store— but something catches your eye before you can act out on your impulses, and you’re ripping your wrist from Hueningkai’s hold with one last harsh tug. Your gaze is no longer on him; he tries to follow your line of sight, but fails to catch onto what you’re looking at. 

“Get out or leave me alone,” you say, giving him one last cold look before you’re brushing past him, “I’m not interested in talking to you.”

You’re weaving through the displays and getting out of his sight quickly— and Hueningkai is left with a purse he had no interest in buying, looking down at the item before he scoffs; he throws it off at a random shelf and exits promptly after. 

Your footsteps are haste and your heels click rhythmically on the tiled floor; you’re making your way to the cash register, watching his meek stance and the way he flinches under your gaze, a flush running up the back of his neck and coloring his ears red— but you don’t dare to look away from him, placing a rough hand on the counter and leaning close as you inspect him.

“You didn’t tell me you worked here.”

Beomgyu is attempting to stutter out a weak response; his cheeks are colored and his hair is tied back neatly, and you can see the way his hands twitch, undoubtedly resisting the urge to run a hand through the neat style. 

“Why— why would I tell you? It’s not something you’d need to know. Or– is it…?”

You’ve confused him, that much you’re sure of. His brows have knitted together and he remains flustered beyond belief— you’re sure you can guess what’s running through his mind right now, and you fight the twitch of your lips at the mere thought.

“I thought you worked as a server.”

“I– I do?” he’s tilting his head in confusion, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly, “I have two jobs.”

“Three,” you quip, drumming your nails against the counter rhythmically, “you tutor.”

“I… guess…?” Beomgyu says, fighting back the urge to correct you that he really doesn’t— you’re the only one he’s ever tutored before.

“Why would you need to work three jobs? How do you get the time for this?” you don’t really know why you’re pestering Beomgyu about this so much— but you’re also fascinated by it, now beginning to understand where Beomgyu’s lack of social life stems from. 

He’s unsure of how to answer your question again; you don’t seem to be particularly patient today, (but then again, when are you?) so you’re waving him off with a dismissive swat of your hand, shaking your head and clicking your tongue before you’re changing the subject; Beomgyu is left to watch as you pull your phone out, scrolling on it for a bit before you’re placing it on the counter and spinning it around for him to see— his eyes are narrowing in concentration as he takes in the picture.

“This purse,” you say slowly, tapping your nail on your phone screen, as though Beomgyu wasn’t currently looking at it, “do you have it in stock? This guy already got one, but I need to know if you have others— I’ve got to have it.” 

The urgency in your voice is a bit surprising to Beomgyu— he takes in your expression, solemn and a bit scary, and gulps— then he watches the way you melt in relief the moment he nods hesitantly. 

“I’m sure we just got a shipment in today— we, haven’t really, uhm, stocked up properly yet,” he stutters, wincing slightly at the sound while you remain unfazed; your brows lift expectantly, and he’s snapping out his daze and sending you a shaky smile, “I’ll go check.” 

He scurries out of your sight and into the employee door quicker than you can process— and when he turns around to take a peek at the small window, he finds you leaning on the counter and on your phone— probably texting, judging by the way your thumbs fly by on the screen— and he feels another heat of shame wash over him, his head spinning and his legs turning into jello. 

How can you act so casually? He wonders, glasses slipping down just a bit farther down his nose, nimble fingers pushing it back up with ease, like you weren’t just in his bedroom a few hours prior… like he wasn’t under you… 

Beomgyu practically jumps the moment your eyes flicker up and meet his; you simply smile, glossed lips stretching slowly before you give him a wink. 

In response, he spins around and begins to actually look— his heart hammers in his chest.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

So pretty. 

So perfect and smooth to the touch, cool under your fingertips— you take your time to feel, to trace over every detail, intricate and crafted by the gods as you let out a shaky sigh— your eyes meet Beomgyu’s, and you have half the mind to feel a bit sheepish, retracting your hand quickly and returning to a socially acceptable state of mind. 

“Sorry,” you say, beaming at him before you’re reaching into your current bag and handing him your card; his eyes widen comically at the smooth black plastic you place in his hold carelessly, “It’s just… all I could ever ask for. I can’t believe I finally have my hands on this…” 

Meanwhile, Beomgyu rings up your inexplicably expensive item, swiping your card and watching the way you don’t even flinch at the sum that shows up; he feels a bit jealous at your nonchalance. 

You’re carrying the purse like it were a baby; it isn’t until Beomgyu offers to bag it for you that you finally let it go, placing it gently on the counter and smiling fondly as you watch Beomgyu place it carefully in the equally luxurious gift bag, placing filler paper on top and handing it back to you, his movement practiced and calculated as he says his usual lines— his mind is running on autopilot once more, but you’re particularly eager to break him out of it as you reach out to take the bag from him, warm hand wrapping around his and tugging him slightly towards you. 

“Thank you for all your help today,” you purr, shining lips stretching into a coy smile, leaning against the counter and watching as he gulps, adam's apple bobbing, “I think I’ll do well on our upcoming quiz— you’re such a good tutor.”

You don’t bother to stick around after that; your steps are brisk and you’re hugging the purchase close to your body, as though someone were after it and ready to take it, confidence in your step as you exit the store— Beomgyu, on the other hand, practically crumbles the moment you’re out of sight, fingers turning white from how hard he grips onto the edge of the counter; his heart pounds and the sound of blood rushing fills his ears, mind inevitably going back to your teasing action before he’s flustering again. 

You’re laughing to yourself the whole ride home— his reaction plays on your mind like a loop, beyond amused by the sight as you pat yourself on the back for being able to come up with something so clever on the spot. 

What you don’t realize, however, is that there are consequences to your actions— consequences that are far beyond your control.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

“Are you for real?”

“Uh-huh,” you grin, placing a fond hand on your cheek and batting your eyes at Yunjin, “totally aced it.” 

“That’s something I never thought I’d hear from you,” your friend says, poking her fork at her salad before taking a bite; she furrows her brows as she takes in your expression, mouth agape and eyes wide, as though you were offended. “What? It’s true.”

“Okay, first off— I’m not stupid, just lazy,” you clarify, pointing an accusing finger at your friend as you pout, “and second of all, you should really believe in your friend a little more.”

“I mean, it was a little hard to when all you would do was skip classes and go shopping instead,” Yunjin says, raising a challenging brow when you open your mouth to refute her claims— then proceed to promptly close it again, finding that you really can’t deny that— and a small smile tugs at her lips, the kind that lets you know that she’s about to say something really annoying, “but I guess your study sessions with your little boy toy really did work.” 

“Boy—?!” you’re in the middle of taking a sip from your iced coffee when she says that, the straw slipping from your mouth and a bit of the liquid escaping from the sheer surprise of her comment— you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling a slight heat rush to your face as you stare at her incredulously, “boy toy?” 

“I mean, am I wrong?” Yunjin challenges, tilting her head in curiosity while you simply try to deny her claims, “you were literally just telling me about the way you had him wrapped around your finger a while ago—”

“Not like that though!” you huff, feeling worked up from the mere idea of Yunjin finding out the complete and utterly stupid slip up you had a while ago, “god, he’s literally such a fucking loser, don’t try to pair me up with him— other people might get the wrong idea. It’s already bad enough that I had to get a tutor, because it’s not like I was doing bad in my classes until recently. I mean, it’s still my fault and I did let myself go, but I didn’t think I’d have to stoop so low! And now I have to take so much time out of my day to spend my time studying with him and even worse, you’re trying to insinuate something that definitely isn’t true—!”

“Yes! Okay! Enough of that please!” Yunjin says exasperatedly, glancing over your shoulder briefly before she’s taking another bite of her salad, muttering something about you having a motor mouth, “god, it’s just that… people have seen you two together a lot, you know? And with the way he’s looking over at you right now, anyone would think that he’s like… in love with you, or something.” 

You’re sitting up straight and whirling around at that; following Yunjin’s previous line of sight, you’re able to pinpoint the said boy immediately— sitting a few tables away, catching him staring at you over his laptop, clearly distracted from his work— the moment your eyes meet, he flinches, hunching down so the screen hides him; it doesn’t work very well, and you’re able to see his downcast eyes and reddening face with ease. 

Oh my god, you think with horror, a cold wave washing over you as you stare at him longer— and after a few seconds, he’s peeking back up from his screen, meeting your eyes once more and scrambling to hide unsuccessfully yet again. You decide to turn back around before anyone else around you catches on to this interaction. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, meeting Yunjin’s gaze as she simply nods at you, her face screaming I told you so, “how long has he been there?” 

“Like… basically this whole time,” Yunjin says casually, not fazed in the slightest by your horrified expression, “been staring at you for a while too.”

“Ugh, gross,” you groan, throwing your head back in defeat and staring up at the ceiling with a frown, “I think I might’ve gotten his hopes up too much.”

“C’mon, go easy on him,” Yunjin teases— your head is straightening up to look at her again, but a single glance is enough to tell you she merely finds this situation amusing, “it’s probably his first time properly interacting with a woman.”

“That’s even worse,” you mourn, slumping down and placing your head in your hands; a sudden reminder of your schedule is popping back into your head, and your peeking through your fingers in dismay as you relay the information to your friend, “and I have a study session with him today too.” 

“Aww!” she coos, clearly having a blast as she grins, glancing behind you and undoubtedly at Beomgyu once more, “I’m sure he just can’t wait to see you again.”

“God, please shut up,” you whine petulantly, but your friend brushes off your pleas with a mischievous smile, “you’re making me wanna throw up.”

“What, you gonna cancel then?” 

Silence. Any other day, you would’ve immediately jumped to say yes, pulling out your phone to text him and bailing like it was nothing. But today, you find yourself oddly reluctant to say this three letter word, unsure of why the answer is difficult to voice before you finally give in to the truth— your head slumps with defeat and you’re too ashamed to look Yunjin in the eyes.

“No.”

“Oh wow,” you hear her say, still blatantly teasing you as she laughs giddily— you don’t bother to react at this point, choosing to ignore the unspoken question of why you’re not ditching him this time.

“Hope you have fun,” she muses, taking one last glance behind you before she’s giggling to herself, “try to go easy on him, m’kay?”

Fuck, this was so embarrassing. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Today, you’ve changed up your meeting spot quite a bit; Beomgyu was thoroughly surprised when you asked him to study later on in the day, in a more secluded area on the upper levels of the library, telling him to pick a table and wait for you to get there after— usually, you tried to make your meetups as convenient for you as possible, choosing places that you could easily flee from. 

When you finally come into his line of sight, Beomgyu frowns. You carry your bag with you, along with a troubled expression and tense posture, glancing around you continuously even if there was no one around, even if the table was hidden behind bookshelves— as though you were afraid of getting caught for something. 

You’re dumping your things onto the table unceremoniously— and instead of taking your spot across from Beomgyu like always, you’re sitting next to him, catching him off guard and missing the way he tenses at the action— you’re scooting your chair closer to him and filling his senses with your scent, making him gulp thickly as he tries to not let his mind wander off; he realizes with dread that it’s really not working. 

Beomgyu is a stuttering mess today; you pick up on it with ease, frowning at the way he continues to blunder through his explanations and having to repeat things to you multiple times, hands shakier than usual as he points out certain things in the text before he’s relating it back to the assignment. 

“That— that’s one of the things the… the uhm, the professor said would be important to remember,” Beomgyu stutters, feeling his body heat up at the way you raise your brows at the sound of his cracking and meek voice. With one glimpse at your (clearly) judgemental and demeaning expression that you didn’t even bother to hide, Beomgyu is scrambling to get his act together. 

It works, for a while; the two of you are left in silence as you work on the homework your professor assigned to you, and you remain unfazed at the feeling of Beomgyu catching glimpses at you from time to time; whether that be to look at what you had written down or simply to look at you, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. 

You’re snapped out of zone of concentration at the sound of rustling; a peek from your peripheral vision allows you to watch as Beomgyu has now begun to dig through his bag, wondering what he could be up to; with a roll of your eyes, you’re focusing back to the question you were working on, not bothering to glance back again even once the rustling has ceased. 

Without warning, something is placed gingerly on the open surface of your textbook; you’re blinking in surprise before you’re registering what it is that has been put before you, brows knitting together as you wonder how you should react.

It’s a… mini paper flower bouquet. 

You’re staring at the item for a solid few seconds before you slowly turn to look at the culprit. Beomgyu meets your intense gaze the best he can, putting up a confident front and fighting back the heat that threatens to engulf his face. 

“Y–You— I heard you did well on your test.” He says, glasses slipping down his nose and bangs falling into his eyes, gaze flickering away for a split second before he wills himself to look at you again. Your stare is dead and unreadable.

“I never told you that.” 

Beomgyu is losing this battle, his confidence visibly wilting away as his cheeks begin to get dusted with pink. His eyes are wide like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to respond as you give him a look that is expecting an explanation— his cheeks are now a bright red. 

Even without his explanation, you both know how he got a hold of this news— and you’re thinking back to Yunjin’s teasing, the fear of being seen with him during today’s study session, and the flustered boy in front of you— and your mouth is running faster than you can stop it.

“Choi Beomgyu, do you like me?” 

If the floor around you was already quiet before, it’s dead silent now; you’re even able to pick up on the stuttered breath Beomgyu lets out, his eyes growing comically wide as he simply stares at you; almost as though he couldn’t believe what you just asked of him. 

“Actually, don’t even answer that,” you wave him off, choosing to ignore the way this seems to spring him into action, stuttering and failing to put together a proper sentence to tell you that no, he definitely doesn’t— you just caught him off guard! 

But it’s not like you would believe him anyway, with the way he remains flustered long after you asked the question, unable to even look your way for the rest of the session, staring straight at the textbook and nowhere else whenever you would ask him a question— after a while, you begin to tire of his behavior. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” you call out again, soft and dangerous as you turn to face him— he was attempting to explain a question to you, words dying on his tongue as he took in your sudden proximity— leaning in toward him, you tilt your head as you observe his reaction, watching the way his lips press together and his adam's apple bobs as he gulps softly; his puppy-like eyes shine as he waits for you to say something.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, your voice beginning to dip into that coy lilt that you’ve used on him only one other time— and that’s enough to have Beomgyu’s mind spinning, the poor boy thinking thoughts that he’s tried to suppress this whole time— your affect on him is beginning to show once more. 

“You look a little…” your eyes flicker down beneath the table, a smile tugging at your lips before you’re looking back into the boy's eyes; catching where you were looking, Beomgyu can’t help but tug his sweater over his lap in embarrassment. 

You’re leaning even closer now— your breath is fanning against the shell of his ear, the boy’s face practically on fire as his hands remain clenched and tense on his lap— he’s practically a statue due to your proximity. 

“Distracted.” 

Your hands are mischievous; curious, setting your pencil down carefully before they begin to wander, sliding across the table before it falls off the edge, nails scratching at the wool material of Beomgyu’s sweater before it lands on top of his hand that covers his lap— you grin at the choked breath of surprise he lets out from the simple touch. 

“What— what, what are y–you—?” Beomgyu is about to bite through his lip at this rate, eyes wide and panicked as he watches your hand push his away, taking in the bulge in his pants as a flush of shame rises up his neck; you’ve caught him, but you don’t seem to be fazed in the slightest as you’re cupping him gently, looking up at him with doe eyes and lashes that flutter innocently— he thinks his heart might just explode from how quickly it’s pounding. 

“Wait, wait wait— we’re in— other people might—” he’s tripping over his words, saying so much yet nothing at all, but the way his eyes skirt over the perimeter is enough to tell you what he’s thinking— yet all you see are bookshelves that surround and hide you well— beneath the warmth of your hand that has yet to move, you can feel Beomgyu hardening within seconds. 

“It’s late. There’s no one else here right now,” you say sweetly, too sweet, a bit patronizing as you lean in close and coo the words directly into his ear— you’re brushing back his long hair with a gentle hand, tucking it behind his ears that he always seems to hide; they’re a pitiful bright red and decorated with silver piercings, absentmindedly caressing along his jaw with the back of your hand; his eyes flutter shut at the tender action, along with the feeling of your hand finally beginning to rock against his cock gently— and he melts into the chair, like putty in your hands as you watch his shoulders slump and cave into himself, his head hang at the stimulation; you’ve barely done anything, yet he’s already a mess— the sight surprises you.

“Go ahead,” you continue softly, hand cupping his jaw and cradling it carefully, attempting to get him to look at you again— and he follows your commands effortlessly, pretty eyes fluttering open and his head turning at the gentle push of your hand— and he’s looking at you with glassy, wide eyes, cheeks flushed pink and mouth parted as his eyes begin to flutter shut again— and your thumb is rubbing soothing circles along his cheekbone teasingly, leaning in slightly to whisper again, close enough that he can feel your breath fanning against the tip of his nose, “Puppy, look at me.”

He follows your command in a heartbeat; he’s met with another of your sickeningly sweet smiles, deceiving and comforting all at the same time. 

“Go ahead now puppy,” you murmur, any movements of your hand ceasing entirely as you watch him with eager eyes, watching the way he seems to sober up at the loss of your touch, “take my hand off— c’mon, take it off if you really want to.”

A moment passes— he really should be taking your hand off, shouldn’t he? But his mind is clouded now and you look so pretty under the warm library lights, pristine and perfect as always, glossy lips and lidded eyes encouraging him with a deceivingly fond look— but Beomgyu loves it, and he loves the way you laugh mockingly at him, unable to control the way he whines petulantly and shakes his head, giving you your answer by thrusting his aching cock into your hand desperately.

“Good boy,” you utter absentmindedly, a compliment that makes Beomgyu’s hips stutter as you finally begin to inch up his bulge, careful fingers making quick work to undo his pants— and with one last glance at the deserted area around you, you’re slipping your hand inside and past the tight waistband of his boxers. 

“Haah—!” Beomgyu is slapping a hand over his mouth and beating you to it, eyes wide and face even more flushed than before as he stares down at the way your hand disappears beneath the material of his boxers, expertly wrapping around his length and slowly beginning to jerk him off underneath the table. 

You don’t seem to be worked up by any of this at all; your eyes are lidded with a slight boredom, a tiredness he’s seen at every one of your study sessions, watching the way you turn back to your homework and begin reading the instructions, hand still working expertly at his length as you do; Beomgyu has to press another hand firmly against his mouth the moment your thumb is swiping over his tip, collecting the constant arousal that collects there and using it as lube— you don’t even bat an eye at him during all this. 

After a few minutes, you’re able to hear the slick sounds of your hand working against his cock effortlessly; the poor boy is aroused and leaking beyond belief, now sporting a wet patch against his pants that you seem to be dead-set on worsening— your pace is picking up and you don’t bother to glance at Beomgyu to check up on him, though you also don’t bother to hide the way your lips quirk in amusement at the sight of him trying (and failing) to keep his composure. 

“M–mmh, agh— close, s’close…” Beomgyu stutters out pathetically, bucking his hips up messily and turning back into that desperate and rambly mess from the first time you sucked him off; his voice is deep and breathy as he whispers out these pleas to you, begs to not stop, to go faster, to—

“Beomgyu,” you whisper coyly, using this chance to finally put your plan into action, “Beomgyu baby, d’you wanna cum? Hmm? Want me to make you feel good?”

He’s nodding thoughtlessly; of course he’s nodding, his mind has gone blank and there’s nothing else in there that seems to make sense except for the way your warm hand wraps around his cock so perfectly, unable to stop the choked whines he lets out every time he feels you squeeze him teasingly. 

“Then you gotta do something for me, okay pup?”  you coo out, making sure to use the nickname you know he loves so much— he lets out a choked whimper at the sound, brows knit tightly together and hair falling in front of his face with the way he hangs his head— and you’re leaning in close to him again, breath fanning on his skin and your palm slapping his cheek softly, tapping at it to get his attention; it works like a charm, and his glassy eyes are meeting yours once more. “Puppy, are you listening?”

“I’m—” his words get cut off by a weak whine, feeling your hand tighten teasingly around him, “I’m listening— I’m listening.” 

“Good,” you coo out, feeling the way his hips buck and he starts becoming restless, “now if you wanna cum, you gotta promise me something, okay?” 

Anything, anything for you, he breathes out absentmindedly, and you’re sure he has no idea what he’s even agreeing to at this point. 

“Don’t act like you know me when we’re in public,” you say sweetly, muddling his mind by increasing your pace, by doing exactly what you’ve noted makes him squirm and cry the most, “I don’t know you, you don’t know me— we’re strangers.” 

You notice the way his face is twisting up in confusion; his mouth is parting and he’s fighting to say something, to ask why— but you’re not giving him a chance to, brushing his hair back and cupping his face, turning him to look at you and digging your nails into his cheeks to get him to meet your eyes; through the intense pleasure you give him, you can still see the hurt that swims within. You let out a soft coo at the pathetic sight.

“Come on, promise me, okay?” you pout, “you’re a good boy, right? You’ll keep your promise?” 

His hips are stuttering and fucking into your fist again; you’ve got him pinned down precisely. Any coherent thought is fading out of Beomgyu’s mind and the only thing he’s concerned himself with is his impending orgasm, the feeling of pleasure that is only heightened with every string of praise you say to him. 

“Be a good little puppy and say you’ll promise me,” you say, thumb swiping over his bottom lip before you’re pulling at it, dark eyes observing the way he melts before your touch and finally gives in— he’s nodding, you’ve got him right where you want him, and all you needed was a little bit of mindless praise. “c’mon, say it, say it and you can cum.”

“I promise,” he breathes out, whiny and high pitched and strained, as though speaking was a challenge for him, “I’ll do anything, please— pleasepleaseplease, let me cum, I’ll— I promise.”

“There we go baby,” you hum in approval, pressing a peck to his pouting lips and taking in the way his waterline is filled with tears that hang precariously, “such a good boy— my good boy.”

His hips stutter, rising off the seat, and you’re feeling warm spurts of cum land on your skin. His mouth is falling open and you’re sure he might just let out a loud noise, so before you can think twice, you’re pulling his face close to you and smashing your lips against his; he whines weakly into mouth, and you’re swallowing it greedily, kissing him languidly and guiding him through his high with praise that makes his breath stutter and his knees weak. 

You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and good.

It takes a while before Beomgyu is finally coming to his senses. He’s panting softly against your mouth, lips swollen and bitten at, his cock sensitive as the feeling of you continuing to pump him slowly suddenly becomes too much; with a shaky hand, he presses against your shoulder and attempts to signal you to stop. You’re pulling away immediately. 

Beomgyu looks, for lack of a better term, absolutely destroyed. His face is flushed and his eyes are droopy with exhaustion, hair mussed and messy and his clothes in complete disarray; you look down, and you’re wincing in half amusement and half pity at the sight of the wet spot against Beomgyu’s jeans. He’s following your gaze, and if he could turn any redder, you’re sure he definitely would’ve; his ears burn. 

Your hand is messy; his cum is still coated on your skin, sticky and incriminating as it sticks to your fingers and pools in between, a grimace twisting your face into a look of dismay as you stare down at the mess— before you can even think of what to do about it, Beomgyu is handing you a tissue. 

His hand is shaky as he extends it out to you; your gaze is snapping up to meet his, only you’ve found that he can’t look at you at all— it seems as though the fog in his mind has already subsided and he’s realized what you’ve asked of him, lips pressed together and face still flushed as you finally take it from him. He turns away from you immediately, pulling his sweater over his lap and staring down at the disarray of textbooks and notebooks before him. 

The silence is suddenly unbearable. You feel awkward as you wipe at your skin, even more so when you’re stuck with nothing but a soiled tissue and a hand that’s still undeniably dirty, the tension between you two now growing tenfold by the second as you finally decide that you should probably just go— it’s not like he’d be surprised by it anyway. 

You’re opening your mouth to excuse yourself— to ignore the elephant in the room, to simply run away with a coy smile like you always do— but Beomgyu is beating you to the punch, and you can’t even hide the startled flinch your body does as he stands and begins to pack up hastily, shoving his materials into his book bag without a second glance to see if everything is perfectly aligned and neat.

You can only sit there and watch; it’s clear that your words seem to have gotten to him, and though you were expecting the awkwardness that would stem from it, you didn’t expect Beomgyu to be upset; your mind races to find reasons why, to try and wrap your head around why he would be feeling this way. 

“I asked the professor how you were doing in the class, since you never seem to want to tell me,” Beomgyu finally says, breaking the tension and adjusting the materials in his bag to be just the way he likes it; he zips his bag shut in one aggressive swoop, and you can’t help the surprise on your face when he sends you a harsh glare. 

“He says you’ve been improving greatly; said you were a good student from the very start, that you only needed to catch up on the materials.” he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder, pushing the chair in and taking a step back from your dumbfounded figure, “so it looks to me that you achieved your goal with our sessions.”

A moment passes— and your eyes widen slightly, catching on to what he’s trying to tell you, finding that you really want to deny the professor’s claims, even if they are true. But your pride impedes you from uttering a single word, knowing that it would kill you to try and coax Beomgyu to stay with you, to keep these study sessions going— and through this sudden urge, you catch yourself wondering why you would even want this to continue.

“I’m glad my help seemed to work— but it seems that you don’t even need it anymore,” Beomgyu finalizes what he needed to say, and you can see the way his shoulders practically sag from the relief of getting his thoughts across; his hand goes to tug his oversized sweater down, completely covering his lap and the mess you left— he grimaces softly. 

“What? So that’s it?” is all you can say, watching his face harden at your words, “Just like that? What about me?”

His face twists up in anger— your words have struck a nerve, and suddenly, he’s remembering why no one wanted to tutor you in the first place. 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” is all he says, taking another step back and increasing the distance between you two, “anyone would be willing to tutor you with the rate you like to offer.”

You both know what he really wants to say— just use your money on someone else to get what you want, like you always do. You find that you can’t really say anything to that. You remain silent.

Beomgyu turns around, and leaves; he doesn’t bother to say goodbye, and you’re left to watch his retreating figure, the hastiness of his pace and the way he continuously tugs his oversized sweater down over and over, even if it doesn’t move an inch. 

That’s it, you tell yourself, leaning back against your chair, staring down at the display before you, at the notes you were actually taking, the work you were finally doing, you finally got what you wanted. 

After a moment, the seat next to you is feeling a lot emptier than it did seconds ago; the room feels endless, as though you were left alone in this lonely labyrinth. Beomgyu’s words echo in your head, and you frown. 

Is this what you wanted?

 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu has kept his promise well; you haven’t seen him in weeks. 

Not around campus, not around the dining halls, not even in the library, a place you’ve found yourself actually attending regularly— not even in the only class you shared— and it seems as though he’s vanished off the face of the Earth. 

You’ve found yourself thinking about him more often than you’d like; wondering if he’s okay, if he’s off at one of his many jobs again, if he’s resting— it makes you shiver with disgust every time you catch yourself, grimacing at the idea that you would even find yourself worried about him— and while you tell yourself that you’ve finally gotten rid of one of your biggest burdens, you can still feel the nagging feeling to talk to him every time you see his contact in your phone.

“Did you finally get him off your trail?” Yunjin asks you one day, when you’re busy checking the due dates for this week’s assignments online, making a mental schedule of what to work on first as you leave your food untouched; her words are snapping you out of your trance, looking up at her with a gaze that screams I wasn’t listening, what? 

“Your little plaything— the loser guy?” she drawls, watching your face carefully, taking your small reaction as a sign that you’ve caught on, “did you finally shake him off?” 

“I— yeah, I did,” you say apathetically, letting out a soft tsk as you’re looking back at your laptop, “finally.”

“Wow, look at you,” Yunjin awes, seeing the way your brows furrowed in concentration and you have yet to eat, too immersed in your course load to roll your eyes at her clear, mocking tone, “looks like he really did a number on you— I didn’t know you used your laptop for anything other than shopping.”

“Yunjin, come on,” you sigh, jaw clenching as you suddenly don’t find yourself in the mood for her teasing, “I mean, I know I’ve been slacking really bad recently, but you know that’s not true.”

She doesn’t seem to take you seriously— then again, no one ever really does, a constant in your life that makes you jaw tick and your eyes mentally roll— and she laughs, shaking her head and pouting as though you were a thing to be pitied. You wonder how much of this is supposed to be friendly teasing. 

“Yeah sure,” she sighs, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand and leaning over to look at your screen, “Don’t work too hard though, it might hurt your brain.”

You ignore her comment; Yunjin doesn’t seem to care about your silence, doesn’t bother to gauge your reaction as she continues to poke at yet another of her salads, pushing the contents around with her fork in boredom as she speaks up again. 

“You know, hopefully he has the same effect on me.”

This gets your attention immediately. Yunjin is looking at you with surprised eyes that feign innocence, raising a confused brow at your narrowed eyes. 

“What do you mean by that,” you ask slowly, attempting to keep your tone indifferent as you speak.

Yunjin shrugs, as though what she was about to tell you next wasn’t of any importance— and it really shouldn’t be, but you still can’t ignore the way it makes your body feel like you’ve been shocked with a wave of electricity. 

“I mean, your little tutor seemed to be such a good influence so…” she stabs at her salad lazily, bringing up the fork to her lips before she’s sending you a small smile. “I thought I’d give him a try.” 

You bristle quite visibly at that; your mind is running a million miles an hour, wondering where this sudden idea is coming from, being friends with Yunjin for longer than you can remember as your mouth begins to run before you can stop it. 

“You said your parents have tried to set you up with multiple tutors— the best in the country,” you say, brows knitted together as Yunjin simply shrugs her shoulders, raising her brows as if to say and? “You said you’d rather die than to get tutored— you said it was a waste of time.”

“Yeah… but…” Yunjin shrugs again, and you wonder how much of this is just an impulse from her as she continues, “I don’t know, my parents are on my ass again about giving me a tutor, and I don’t wanna deal with all those stuck up pricks they send to me.”

She admits her true motives with her next words. 

“And I don’t know… he’s kinda cute?” she says, laughing like a schoolgirl who was embarrassed to admit a crush, “In like, a pathetic kinda way— and now that he’s done tutoring you, I’m sure he has a slot that opened up.”

Your mind is spiraling with things to say to her; you want to tell her to stay away from Beomgyu, to not try to mess with him— tell her that he’s a loser that isn’t worth her time, a nerd with an obsession with a lame game and the owner of a creepy bird— but you catch yourself, biting your tongue and taking in the way Yunjin simply looks at you expectantly; as though waiting for your embarrassing outburst, you realize.

With a scoff, you’re slamming your laptop shut— Yunjin flinches in surprise. 

“I’m sure one did— I’m leaving,” is all you say, knowing that nothing would change, even if you tried anything. Yunjin scrambles to try to get you to stay, but all attempts fall short— you tell her there’s an exam you need to study for, and she sighs in defeat. 

“You’re coming to the party this Saturday, at least?” she says, clearly annoyed at your sudden sensitivity, at your sudden change in attitude, “you promised you would.”

Your mind is attempting to remember what she could be talking about— then you’re finally remembering the event she spontaneously planned a few weeks back, telling you that she hasn’t seen everyone together in one place in so long— and while you found yourself agreeing excitedly back then, you don’t have much energy to do so now. But Yunjin is staring at you expectantly, raising a brow at your silence, and you find that there’s really not much of a choice for you. (There is, but you know there’d be consequences if you chose wrong.)

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Perfect!” she beams, eyes crinkling and her hands clasping together happily, as though there was no previous tension between you at all mere moments before, “I’ll see you then.” 

You merely nod, turning around and taking your food to the nearest trash can— you weren’t really hungry, anyway. 

You can feel Yunjin’s eyes pinpointed on you the whole way out. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’ve always loved parties. 

You loved to dress up, make yourself look pretty and catch the eyes of everyone with your pretty dresses and makeup done to perfection; loved the attention that came with it, the way you could let loose for once and not worry about your image, drinking and feeling your body become loose, mind finally being allowed to forget about any worries you had. 

You were known to be a social butterfly; the pretty airhead that couldn’t stop talking once you got her started— always the life of the party, never one to cling to the wall and stare at the dance floor wistfully. 

Standing before the beach house of Yunjin’s parents, one they didn’t use as much as they once did when Yunjin was only a little girl with an affinity to the sea, you begin to wonder where that part of you has gone. 

You feel dreadfully out of place. You haven’t even gone inside yet. 

Music is blasting and the windows are dark, save for the bright neon lights that come from an unknown source; Yunjin has always been a sucker for that club vibe, anyway. You want to go in, want to walk inside and pretend like it’s nothing, but this time, you can only stand at the bottom of the steps and tug your dress down a little more. You feel like a prude. 

Deep breaths, you tell yourself— one in, one out, your chest rising and falling slowly as you  try calm your racing pulse— and with a silent okay of reassurance to yourself, you will your body to begin its trek up the steps. 

The door is unlocked; it’s not like you needed to knock to get in, anyway— only those with an invite even knew this party was happening. The place isn’t packed— nor is it meant to be— but it’s a bit crowded at least, filled with familiar faces for the most part; all people you grew up with or around, sons and daughters of influential families that grew to be nothing but partiers and troublemakers. In other words, your usual crowd. 

There are some exceptions to these guests, however. People you’ve seen around campus, student athletes with a scholarship and business majors that have already found themselves internships to the companies others in the room are a part of— and it seems that no matter how much everyone here tries to pretend and deny, they can never really separate their personal lives from the responsibilities passed down to them at birth. 

Your first instinct is to beeline it to the kitchen; in other words, to the makeshift bar Yunjin always sets up, an impressive display of alcohol and even a hired bartender making drinks left and right— you immediately ask for two jello shots, something Yunjin always made for herself and in extension, you, not in the mood for anything stronger as you opt to get this nervous energy out of you instead; you proceed to get two more a second after, just out of habit.

You should find Yunjin; let her know you’re here, make sure she doesn’t try to scold and bitch at you for promising to go to her party only to end up ditching— you’re sure she’d never believe you unless she saw you with her own eyes. 

The kitchen is empty. The makeshift dance floor seems to be empty as well, spending a few minutes scouring the place and shrugging off any passing advances; with a heavy sigh, you decide that you should check upstairs, just in case, ready to make your way up before a rough hand is grabbing at your elbow and tugging you back; the smell of alcohol greets you before Yunjin can. 

“You actually came!” Yunjin yells over the music, her face flushed from the alcohol and her balance off as she stumbles slightly; you make a quick move to catch her, eyes drifting down before you’re catching sight of the uncomfortable heels she dons— meeting her gaze once more, she pouts. 

“I don’t even know why I wore these,” she groans, running a hand through her auburn hair, watching the way it falls back into place perfectly— she then proceeds to scan over your own outfit, letting out a sound of awe as she smiles, “you look great! Pretty as always.”

She’s muttering something else, but you can’t really hear it over the sound of the music; eventually, you find your eyes drifting away to the dancefloor, wondering if there’s anyone else you could recognize— your eyes lock with a particular, infamous athlete’s, one that you’ve been dying to get with since the beginning of the semester— and you’re suddenly thankful for the buzz the jello shots provided you, Yunjin eventually following your gaze and cheering at the realization of what you were planning. 

She’s pushing you forward before you can even think things through; the man with dark hair simply smiles at you, coy eyes beckoning you closer— and with a deep breath, you decide to let go of any worries you had and go back to being your airheaded, carefree self— even if just for a moment. 

“Hey,” he says simply, a hand going to rest on your waist; the music is much too loud for you to converse properly, but you don’t really seem to mind as you allow yourself to get lost in the rhythm instead— that, and because your tipsy brain has forgotten his name, and the low lights that obscure his face aren’t exactly helping either. 

But it seems as though he was thinking the exact thing; he’s leaning down to ask the exact question you were wondering into your ear, deep voice and pouty lips that brush against the shell of your ear making you shiver— you’re muttering your name into his ear, tilting your head toward him to allow him to do the same.

Yeonjun. Your head seems to clear for the moment. 

“Looks like we finally meet,” he grins, still close to your face in order for you to be able to hear him; your face twists up in confusion, and he laughs softly before continuing. “You’re just as pretty as I’ve been told— my friend talks a lot about you. You’re trouble, hmm?”

“Your friend?” is all you can say in response, placing a hand against his chest and leaning in closer, the music muddling his words slightly; his hand continues to hold you steady, and the two of you continue to sway to the rhythm. 

“Yeah,” he laughs, staring at your face that’s twisted up in obvious confusion, “My roommate, Beomgyu? I heard he tutored you for a bit.”

His name is enough to clear your head entirely, as though a bucket of ice water has been poured over your body and drenched your figure. 

“He— he told you about me?” you ask, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so pathetic, for feeling so curious as you stare at Yeonjun with undeniably hopeful eyes; instead, all you get is another amused laugh from him. 

“Are you kidding? You practically traumatized him!” he jokes, though you don’t find yourself laughing along to that, lips twitching and a frown threatening to take over your features, “You’d think he was scared of you from the way he talked about you.”

You don’t respond to that; you’re not sure how you would respond to that anyway, letting out a weak laugh and falling silent as you look over his shoulder and fall back into the beat of the song— but it seems as though Yeonjun is too drunk, and frankly, unaware to take in your reaction, because he’s leaning into your ear and murmuring words that strike the final blow into your heart.

“He’s here, actually— Yunjin and him really seem to be hitting it off. Didn’t think he had it in him”

You chose to bite your tongue, biting back a bitter comment about how he really doesn’t have it in him to woo someone like Yunjin. But Yeonjun is too amused by his own comment to pick up on the sudden sourness of your mood, mouthing the lyrics to whatever’s playing and guiding your hips with a hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he sends you a wink. But you’re too shaken by this sudden news that you no longer feel the need to play along, much less try to hook up with him tonight. Now that you think about it, the once superficially important goal of chasing after the athlete before you had been pushed down the list of your priorities long, long ago. 

“‘M gonna get a drink,” you mutter miserably, pushing against Yeonjun’s chest and ignoring the way he immediately begins to complain, untangling yourself from his grip as you leave with one final, half-hearted sorry!

Screw jello-shots, you think to yourself, stumbling back to the kitchen with sore feet, I need something stronger. 

Something stronger comes in the form of a mysterious drink you let the bartender make for you; you didn’t exactly keep track of the ingredients he listed off to you, simply nodding instead when he asked if that’s what you wanted— if you think it’s strong enough, you replied with a smile, choosing to ignore the hesitant nod he gave you in return. 

The speed at which you downed the drink was enough to have the bartender at your side with a water and a warning look— you ignored it, of course, drinking the water with a slight pout, only bothering to drink half before you were back to the dancefloor; maybe you could distract yourself with Yeonjun for a while, you think. 

But any plans to track down the said man come to a glaring halt the moment you’re stepping out the kitchen; your eyes widen, surprised expression mirroring Hueningkai’s as he stands before you— his eyes scan over your figure, running back up and stopping at your hazed eyes and flushed face, the slight sway in your movement helping everything click in his mind; you’re a few drinks away from getting utterly wasted, and it seems as though that’s the path you’re getting ready to take. 

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Hueningkai says, watching your face scrunch in confusion, taking a step forward to hear him better, “Thought you’d be too busy doing another study date to come.”

“Shut up,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and scoffing at the implications of his words, “And why do you care? I’m surprised you’re not fucking a random girl in Yunjin’s bathroom right now.”

“I tried,” Hueningkai rolls his eyes, smiling in that obnoxiously smug way as he watches you frown. He leans in, placing a hand on the doorway and above your head as he reaches out to grab your waist; tugging you close to him, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he mumbles quietly, “but she wasn’t anywhere as good as you.”

“You’re gross,” you glare, leaning back as you let your lips upturn in disgust, already knowing what he’s implying— asking of you— with a simple look at his face. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Are you still mad?” Hueningkai asks, beginning his chase even after you’ve successfully escaped his clutches, ignoring him with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms and make your way out to the living room, “you never even told me what was wrong, you just ran away and kept bitching at me.”

You huff; it doesn’t seem like Hueningkai will give up anytime soon, so you’re whirling around and sending him a pointed glare as you finally give him the closure he so desperately keeps asking for. 

“I did tell you what was wrong,” you start, clenching your jaw at the way he immediately opens his mouth to refute that, “you treat me like nothing more than a fuck buddy, acting as though we weren’t actually friends before that! All you do is make me feel worthless, then you have the audacity to turn around and play the victim?! Like seriously, Hueningkai, is this all you see me as? A body to fuck?”

Hueningkai began asking you to keep it down the moment you felt yourself get riled up; volume rising, face heating up, you ignored him, ignored the odd looks you got from others, deciding that since the man before you wanted to hear your thoughts so badly, you’d let it all out.

“We used to be friends. We grew up together!” you say, feeling ridiculous for continuing to grieve the past, the days where things weren’t so complicated and all you felt for Hueningkai was a harmless crush. “I can’t believe I let you use me like this, just because I thought I liked— god, I’m so stupid.”

You don’t give him a chance to retaliate; you’re turning around and ready to weave your way through the faceless people and go outside, only making it halfway before Hueningkai is grabbing at your elbow and asking you to wait. His persistence garners yet another roll of your eyes.

“You what? Hang on, what was that last part?” he asks, trailing behind you and desperately asking for an answer— because of course he would hone in on that part. You continue to ignore him, tugging your arm out his hold and beginning to push through the crowd at the dancefloor— seriously, how many people did Yunjin invite? You seem to have severely underestimated the capacity of this place.

“You— did you like me? Do you like me?” Hueningkai’s last attempts to get something, anything from you are childish and do nothing but make your stomach churn, “Come on, we can talk this out, be mature about it— I can fix things, I can make it up to, yeah? Hey, don’t bail on me now—”

“Enough!” you yell, getting yet another round of side glances and strange looks from others; listening in like always, pretending horribly to be ignorant to it all.

You’re right before the doorway; so close, yet you know that if you leave now, Hueningkai will continue to follow and pester you— so as horrible as the timing is, you realize with a heavy feeling that now is your chance to do what you’ve been debating on for so long. 

“Please, I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say, your words weak as you look right into his eyes— and everything surfaces into your mind once more, the innocent hope you once had of stealing his heart one day, “Let’s just end this— everything.”

The words feel familiar on your tongue, only this time, you realize that this is the person you should’ve directed this message to in the first place.

“We don’t know each other,” you say, jaw clenched at the way it takes Hueningkai a second to process things due to the music that tries to drown you out— you still catch onto the exact moment where it all registers in his head, eyes widening and mouth opening to protest— but you beat him to it, not giving him another opportunity to try and haphazardly fix thing, albeit momentarily. Your eyes meet his, and your heart wrenches upon seeing that he’s more annoyed than hurt. 

“Don’t talk to me— we’re strangers now.”

The final blow is like a weight that is immediately taken off your shoulders; you reach to open the door and slip out. This time, Hueningkai doesn’t follow. 

The air is cool on your face and a nice contrast to the stuffy air inside the house. Slowly, you make your way to the corner of the porch fence, stumbling over due to the soreness of your feet and the alcohol that still runs through your system. So many emotions course through you, seemingly wanting to bring about a wave of nostalgia and sadness, lingering feelings for the man you’ve just let behind— but you won’t allow yourself to cry over him, scoffing instead at the way you allowed yourself to foolishly bend over backwards for him for so long. 

“Wow,” you hear a voice say, not bothering to look back as you immediately recognize who it is; Yunjin joins you, leaning against the fence and craning her head forward to properly survey you— you don’t bother looking at her, even more so when she finally continues,“That was harsh back there.”

You sigh. Because of course Yunjin heard that, and of course she’s the one to bring it up immediately after. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually cut him off— I thought you’d always be like, head over heels, hopelessly in love with him— like a little girl, you know? You never seemed to grow out of him.” You glare at her, but continue to remain silent; she laughs, throwing her head back at the sight, only to wobble back slightly from the sudden motion.

“Oh come onnnnn, you know it’s true!” she coos, proceeding to poke at you teasingly and twist her voice to sound like you, “Huening called me pretty. Huening bought me the purse I really wanted. Huening wants me to go with him to dinner with his parents. Huening Huening Huening—!”

Her laugh is obnoxious, even after you’ve hissed at her to be quiet; she continues to mock you under her breath, drunkenly quoting things she overheard from your outburst, and you realize with a disappointed sigh that she definitely won’t be stopping soon. 

“Heyyy, don’t get all sensitive on me now!” she whines, grabbing your hand and tugging you back when you attempt to leave; it doesn’t work, and you merely tug yourself out her grip, not even bothering to respond to her cries to stay.

Yunjin pauses her dramatics the moment you’re turning and leaving, scoffing at the way she offhandedly apologizes, words slurring together as she says that she’s sorry if you feel offended! You’re shaking your head at that, making your way back to where the stairs are, glancing back at the home one last time— and you’re freezing for a second when you meet Beomgyu’s gaze, the boy wide eyed and awkward as he stands at the doorway. Behind you, Yunjin cheers drunkenly. 

“Beomie! Hey, could you tell her to stop being so dramatic? Like come on, I’m just trying to have fun,” Yunjin’s rambles are left unacknowledged by you both, and you finally find strength within you to walk away after a second; it’s not like you and Beomgyu had anything to talk about, anyway. 

Behind you, Yunjin calls for Beomgyu to go to her and give her attention; her pleas fade from your ears and you’ve finally made it onto the beach, pulling out your phone and fumbling through your contacts before you’re finally ordering an Uber to pick you up instead— it was too late in the night for you to bother your driver. 

The closest driver will be here in fifteen minutes; you’ll spend those fifteen minutes sitting before the ocean, clothes riddled with sand and body still sobering up slowly, your shoes placed to the side as you dip your legs into the water— fifteen minutes of silence, allowing you to ponder if these people are really the ones you’ve chosen to affiliate with for half your life. 

You’ve become so entranced with the white noise of the waves that you couldn’t pick up on the approaching footsteps of another; it isn’t until the said person is sitting at your side that you’re finally snapping out of your trance. 

Beomgyu settles down beside you without a word. You watch him for a second, taking in his appearance— he must’ve been dragged here, if anything, his attire not straying from the usual sweaters and jeans— and you look away, staring back out into the horizon as silence continues to drag down between the two of you. 

“You’re not sensitive,” Beomgyu suddenly says, his voice so quiet and hesitant you almost missed it, “Or dramatic.”

You laugh humorlessly. 

“I know.”

“You deserve to feel wanted,” Beomgyu adds, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, taking in your troubled expression and distant gaze, “...And, your friends are all assholes.”

“...I know.”

It’s quiet. You’re staring down at your feet, at the waves that slowly make their way up your shins before they retreat. Tonight made everything clearer than ever— why did you ever bother to associate with those people? Family and social status was the answer, but as you sit on the beach and away from the rowdy, ruthless crowd, you realize that you feel much more comfortable where you are. 

“No one ever takes me seriously,” you say suddenly, staring at the ground and tracing shapes into the sand, “I mean, I never really gave them reason to; it was all just fun and games at first— since I was a girl, I mean. Everyone thought that because I was so obsessed with superficial things that I just didn’t have anything going on in my head, and I guess that was enough to let me become a joke to everyone. A pretty airhead who just thinks about makeup and clothes and purses.”

“I mean, I worked hard to get to where I’m at, y’know? There’s more to me than just that. I won’t deny that my parents and their wealth helped get me a lot, and I certainly won’t deny that I seriously slacked this semester, but I— I don’t know, I just wish people wouldn’t take the shit I say and do like an absolute cosmic joke sometimes; that everyone I know and surrounded myself with wasn’t so superficial and fake.”

Your mouth just began running without you realizing it, forcing you to spill everything that’s been weighing on your mind; you don’t even bother stopping yourself, refusing to glance at the boy beside you as you continue. 

“And you wanna know what the worst part is? For a while, I started to believe what they thought of me, started to play into it if it meant them… liking me more. Ugh, that sounds so pathetic, seriously. I need to get it together.” You roll your eyes, tossing your head back as you scold yourself midway through your rambling, “I thought that if I acted all cute and stupid, if I just molded myself into what they liked, they… he would choose me. Would decide to keep me around for more than just a fuck. Would reciprocate years and years of pining and pretending to be cool with him fucking around with other people— all while he got all sulky if I even mentioned other guys.”

Silence. You go quiet for a moment, hand stilling for a moment, brows knitting together as you stare at the mess you’ve made in the sand; Beomgyu opens his mouth to say something, but is swiftly cut off by the sight of you sitting up straight abruptly. 

“But I’m worth more than that, y’know? I deserve to have someone take it slow with me, to like me for who I am, to really take me seriously. Even if I act ridiculous sometimes.” You sigh, your lips twitching in a soft smile as you finally look up from the mess in the sand and at Beomgyu; his eyes meet yours, doe-like and wide as always. You laugh at his expression, and his face heats up at the sight. 

“God, I’ve been really insufferable, huh?” you laugh, looking away from him the moment you felt your heart beating a bit faster, “I just never shut up, I’ve been told it’s really annoying— I didn’t mean to dump that all on you like that.”

“It’s alright,” Beomgyu says hastily, biting at his lip and averting your gaze as he continues, “I like listening to you talk.”

Your eyes widen and his words echo through your mind, bouncing off the walls and repeating the message over and over. I like listening to you talk. 

Your mind seems to have entirely blanked out at that; how do you even respond? All you know is that your body seems to heat up entirely after a second, shivers running through your spine as you attempt miserably to find something to say, something that’ll probably shatter the mood entirely— but you can’t, and you’re stuck in a silence that grows tense as minutes pass. 

The ding of a notification sounds from your phone; the two of you are looking down at the screen that lights up, and you immediately scramble to leave the moment you read that your car is here.

“I— I have to go,” you say lamely, wincing at your accidental stutter; you don’t give Beomgyu a chance to say anything more, wiping the sand off your clothes and giving him a half-hearted wave goodbye. “See ya.”

If anyone accused you of running away like a coward, you wouldn’t even bother to deny such claims— because it’s true, and you all but sprint away in order to get out of Beomgyu’s sight, eyes frantically sweeping over the street until you finally spot your Uber, sending a small wave and getting inside quickly. 

“Sorry about the mess,” you say sheepishly, glancing down at your shoes that tracked in remnants of sand; slowly, the car begins to move, and you’re staring out the window and watching Yunjin’s beach house pass by— in the very distance, your eyes catch onto Beomgyu, who remains sitting still by the shore. 

Your mind echoes his words to you, and you’re failing miserably to push down the way your stomach seems to be filled with a flurry of butterflies, the way your face heats up and a smile threatens to break through your face. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you’ve only felt something this intense one other instance, many years ago.

Fuck. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

It’s been a few weeks since Yunjin’s party; a few weeks since you stopped talking to her, a few weeks since you dropped all your snobby friends you only made for connections, a few weeks since you finally broke things off with Hueningkai. 

A few weeks since you realized that you might see Beomgyu as more than just a nerdy, pathetic loser. 

You’ve found that you have a lot more free time these days; now that you’re no longer worried about attending worthless cocktail parties or going golfing to help Yunjin impress a CEO’s son who she’s had her eye on for days, you’ve found that your life has become a lot more peaceful— or rather, boring. 

Your social life is nonexistent; what else did you expect, after cutting off practically everyone you knew? You’ve become a homebody, much more focused on your work and finding more mundane hobbies— your grades have never looked better. 

Avoiding Yunjin and anyone associated with her was simple; it was nothing, passing by her and pretending like you two never knew each other, like the two of you weren’t once attached by the hip. It never phased you to be in the same room as her, not even batting an eye when she found herself sitting a table away from you in the dining halls. 

You just wish you could say the same about Beomgyu. 

God, what the hell has gotten into you? You’ve become a fumbling, ridiculous mess, not even able to look him in the eye when you spot him in the halls, in the library, in cafes; your body heats up and words get stuck in your throat whenever he’s so much as close in proximity, always finding a way to flee as soon as possible— you don’t even bother being inconspicuous anymore. 

It was apparent to anyone who knew you that this behavior was a complete switch from your usual self— cocky, flirty, bold— and Beomgyu, who had to spend hours on end with you, knew that better than anyone. 

He’s able to spot your odd behavior immediately. Though unfortunately for him, he’s unable to come to a proper conclusion as to why you may be acting like that, and simply decides that you must be holding up your promise still; the promise to act like complete strangers, that is. 

Beomgyu frowns, staring at your back as you stand in line at the cafe across the campus library; you’re rigid, as though turning around and acknowledging the man behind you could kill you. Did you really hate him that much? He thought he made progress back at Yunjin’s party, your moment of vulnerability allowing him to see you in a completely new light— because after a moment of thought, after you fled the scene with an awkward wave and an empty smile, Beomgyu began to think; he really didn’t know anything about you. He didn’t even know your major.

All he knew about you were superficial things— and Beomgyu found himself oddly irritated by the thought, wondering if he was any better than the very people you were complaining about; it weighed his mind, finding himself prattling off to Yeonjun about it one day, laying on the couch and petting Toto absentmindedly as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“She’s an architecture major,” Yeonjun said from the kitchen, looking up from the stove and meeting Beomgyu’s surprised gaze, “Yunjin told me once that she’s been working to try and get an internship at her father’s company— starting from the bottom up and everything. Heard it’s super competitive over there.”

You were a lot more hardworking and studious than Beomgyu— or anyone, really— gave you credit for. And as he watched you recite your order to the cashier, something so convoluted that the boy wondered if it was even good, he found himself wanting to learn more about you. You stood off to the side, staring down at your phone with a concentrated pout, and he wondered if he should bite the bullet and finally attempt talking to you. 

Just as Beomgyu was mustering up the courage to say something, just as he was about to open his mouth, your name was called and you picked up your drink with a swiftness he’s never seen before, making your way out and passing Beomgyu in the blink of an eye. He’s left waiting for his drink long after, snapped out of his reverie by a text notification. 

Huh Yunjin:

im at the library rn r u coming ??

dont keep me waiting :(

Beomgyu sighs, and trudges his way to the library with a pout; the feeling is reminiscent, but he can’t help but find himself thinking that it was you he was studying with instead. He spots Yunjin’s bright head of orange hair instantly, eyes glued to her phone and brows knitted together in a soft frown— and though Beomgyu apologized for being late and asked her to start without him, she didn’t seem to bother to even get her materials out. 

Internally, Beomgyu finds himself rolling his eyes— But he’s masking that with a soft clear of his throat, his calm voice asking Yunjin to get her textbook out so they can start their session— and she finally looks up from her phone, bright eyes filled with confusion before she smiles sheepishly. 

“Oh right, the textbooks,” she murmurs, looking over at the seat next to her where she’s placed her bag, then across where Beomgyu sits; his eyes widen at the sight of her collecting her things, standing up and rounding the table before she sits next to him— before he can question what he’s doing, she scoots her chair closer to him, shoulders touching as she sends him an innocent smile. “I… forgot mine… you don’t mind if we share, right? You said you took this class last semester.”

Beomgyu can’t contain the way he lets out an exasperated breath; he pulls out his laptop, pulling up his digital copy as he mentally complains about how unprepared and demanding Yunjin always seemed to be— he can’t remember the last time she actually brought her own supplies; if anything, Beomgyu was sure she hadn’t even bought her required texts. 

And as he scrolls through the index in search of the needed chapter, he feels Yunjin leaning in closer; all under the guise of seeing the screen better, but Beomgyu knows better than to believe that her intentions are all innocent. And despite Beomgyu’s multiple attempts to scoot away from her, he quickly finds himself trapped by the girl again, frowning at the way she laughs at everything little thing he says and tugs at his sleeve when she’s confused about something. 

For a moment, Beomgyu wonders if she might actually be hitting on him— but he soon catches onto the way she peeks over his screen after each attempt to be touchy, how she glances in the same direction after every soft coo of that same nickname that makes him wince— and he follows the path of her gaze eventually, not entirely surprised at what he sees; if anything, it helps everything click together. 

Beomgyu spots you sitting two tables away, face twisted up in concentration and headphones obstructing your ears, head bobbing rhythmically as you scribble things on your notebook, glancing back at your laptop’s screen ever so often; he catches sight of numbers and equations, and he realizes that you must be working on math homework. 

Without realizing, he’s found himself staring at you; this side of you that he never saw much, private and calm and hardworking, the image you said you wished others saw in you— and, as though you could feel it, you’re looking up from your work, meeting Beomgyu’s eyes instantly and watching as he flusters and looks away; your eyes then fall onto the girl who has him backed into the corner of the table, who leans into him and glances over you with a slight quirk of her lips— she sends you a small wave, then turns back to Beomgyu, calling out his name softly. 

Undeniably curious, you lower the volume of your music slightly— you didn’t expect Yunjin to actually go through with her plans of getting Beomgyu to tutor her, and much less her lasting this long— you’re bringing up a hand to your head as subtly as you can, moving the right side of your headphone away from your ear slightly and allowing yourself to listen in to whatever it is they talk about. 

While Beomgyu attempts multiple times to tutor her and teach her materials, Yunjin can’t seem to stop steering away in a completely different direction; asking him entirely unrelated questions, blatantly flirting and acting coy as she pulls at his sweater everytime he seems hesitant to answer— the sight is slightly amusing, but you can’t deny the way it makes you wince with annoyance. 

“Today’s your day off, right?” Yunjin asks eventually, smiling widely when he nods, albeit hesitantly, “Great! You know how you said you’d take me to dinner if I got a good score on my test?” 

You hear the sound of Yunjin’s nails clicking against a screen; undoubtedly searching for something, the soft mutters of Beomgyu’s you were the one who struck up the deal, making you bite your tongue in a desperate attempt to remain inconspicuous; from the corner of your eye, you’re able to catch the way the said boy glances over at you. 

“Well… ta-da!” Yunjin squeals happily as she shoves the phone into Beomgyu’s face, allowing him to see her results for the said test. Beomgyu hums absentmindedly at the sight. 

“Your place at seven?” Yunjin grins, poking his shoulder teasingly; Beomgyu doesn’t answer, but she chooses to take that silence as a yes. “Great! I have to go actually; promised my girls I’d have brunch with them— you understand, right?” 

Instead of fumbling with his words and asking her to not leave so abruptly, Beomgyu simply nods and hums a soft uh-huh. The sight is enough to have Yunjin scoffing, slinging her purse on her shoulder and reaching over to grab Beomgyu’s chin— she tugs it and makes him face her, the action so sudden that his eyes widen drastically— and she smiles, squishing his cheeks teasingly and pouting at his distant behavior. 

“Don’t get all pouty with me— I’ll see you soon ‘kay?” before Beomgyu can even process anything, Yunjin leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling her lipstick transfer onto his skin— he’s slightly dazed, reaching up immediately to place a hand over the spot, staring at Yunjin with furrowed brows; she simply laughs and waves at him one final time, practically skipping out from how giddy she seemed.

From a distance, you watch Beomgyu quietly reach for his bag, his expression blank as he pulls out a tissue and his phone; you watch him use his front camera as a mirror, wiping at the lipstick with a soft frown. 

From a distance, you laugh to yourself— the distaste that appears on his face is obvious to you, and you can’t help but shake your head at Yunjin’s ridiculous behavior; god, was that what you looked like whenever you would bail on him mid-session? The very thought was terribly humbling to you. 

Yunjin’s attempts to get back at you by using Beomgyu were more than obvious; you think back to her actions, the way she blatantly flirted with him, the plans she suddenly tacked on him— on his day off, not to mention— and you roll your eyes, deciding that you might as well put an end to all these dramatics; not just for your sake, but for Beomgyu’s as well. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu is groaning to himself the moment he hears a sharp knock on his door— the last thing he wanted to do on his day off was spend his time entertaining a girl who was clearly using him for some odd, petty reasons— but he got ready nonetheless, texted Yunjin his address hours prior after being told that her driver would come pick him up, (he hadn’t gotten a response in relation to that message, but she’ll probably see it soon) and waited patiently on the couch, albeit much earlier than the proposed plans. 

Another sharp knock— Beomgyu wishes he had some proper excuse for her, told her that he already had plans with his roommate, but the said man was off on his shift already— he trudges over to the door, twisting the doorknob with a heavy reluctance, and sighs. He braces himself as he swings open the door to greet Yunjin with a halfhearted smile. 

“Hey,” you pant instead, leaning against the doorway and ignoring his confused— and shocked— expression, “I— am I late? I thought I was early, did you get ready early?” 

You gulp; since when could Beomgyu clean up so nicely? He’s forgone his usual, comfortable and casual outfits in favor of a perfectly pressed button up and a clean hairstyle— Yunjin must’ve planned to take him to quite the expensive place, you think to yourself. 

“Of course you’d be the type to get ready an hour early,” you mutter bitterly to yourself, the comment enough to have the said man glancing at the nearest clock in confusion— and just like you said, a bright six o’clock greeted him on the digital clock. 

“You— what’re you doing here?” Beomgyu stutters pathetically, unable to do much but relent to the way you step inside, closing the door behind him and turning around to face you, “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Yeah well, I lied.” you simply say, the words confusing the poor man even more, “I came to tell you to cancel your plans with Yunjin.” 

“Can— huh?” he searches your expression for the traces of a joke, but finds that you’re dead serious. “Why would I cancel? That’s rude.”

“Jesus, can’t you see?!” You say exasperatedly, reaching out to place your hands on Beomgyu’s shoulders, fingers digging in so he can look at you— it’s only when he finally does that you continue. “She doesn’t want to do this— she’s using you. She’s doing this to get back at me.”

“But why would she…” Beomgyu utters, and you wonder with a roll of your eyes where that boy genius of yours went. 

“Beomgyu,” you start, the sound foreign to the said boys ears as he blinks at you owlishly. You bite at your lip, brows furrowing at you think over what to say— you start again, but your words are hesitant and muddled. “She’s using you because she’s petty and because… because…” 

He gives you a look encouraging you to continue.

“Because— god, are you really gonna make me say this?!” you break, letting go of his shoulders and taking a step back— your face feels like it’s on fire and your stomach feels like it’s been twisted into knots, your hands clammy as you glance over at Beomgyu again— and he looks at you with the most stupid, oblivious expression known to mankind. 

You take a quick, deep breath, and you start again. 

“Choi Beomgyu. She’s using you because I…” you say sternly, reaching over suddenly to grab his face, cupping his cheeks and taking in the way he becomes red at your touch. You bring him close to you, pressing your lips in a fine line and hesitating before you observe his face— and god, he looks so pathetic and lost that you don’t even seem to mind the way the next words tumble out of you, fluid and clear and true. 

“Because I like you.”

Silence. You’re waiting anxiously in response, looking into Beomgyu’s eyes in anticipation, but all he does is stare. He stares and stares and stares, and for the first time in a while, you’re unsure of what to make of this reaction. 

“And I’m not lying either.”

Still nothing. His skin is warming up under your fingertips, and his mouth opens hesitantly to say something, only to close again— he must still doubt you, so you decide to take a leap of faith and reassure him the only way you know how.

“I think you’re cute and kinda pathetic in an endearing way, I think that those glasses really compliment your face and make your eyes look super doll-like, and I don’t really mind Toto. I think he’s still a bit weird to look at but I love that you love him, and it makes total sense to me that out of all the pets you could’ve had you decided to get a big freaky green bird of all things, and I think it’s super cute that you’re attached to him— I think you look kinda hot when you get frustrated on a problem, and I think it’s really hard to hold myself back from kissing you when you start stuttering at me like an idiot— also, it’s really not that bad that you play League of Legends, and I can’t believe I’m gonna admit this, but I started playing it myself and it’s not that bad— but that’s not the point, what I’m saying is that you’re— you’re a nerd and a loser but I don’t mind because I really— fuck, I really like—”

His lips are mashing onto yours before you can process his sudden movement, rough and sloppy and desperate that all you can do is slide your hands into his hair and pull him closer; his hands wrap around you in response, one on the small of your back and the other against the back of your head as he pulls you closer still, close until your bodies are pressed flush together. 

The two of you are so rough with your movements that he’s stumbling back, knocking against the wall and groaning softly at the impact; you’re sneaking your tongue into his parted lips, listening to the way he pants and moans against your mouth, slotting a leg between his and feeling as his thigh is quick to retaliate and press against your core. 

“Mghh– ugh, fuck,” you moan mindlessly, feeling his hand press against the small of your back, forcing you to arch and push your weight onto his strong muscle, allowing yourself to rock against it desperately; your mind is running a million miles an hour, pulling away from his lips breathlessly and staring at the gloss that has transferred onto him; his eyes look dazed, lips parted and in need for more as he tries to lead your head back to his. 

“Can’t believe she tried to use you against me,” you mutter, going back in to press quick, chaste kisses all along his face; he curls in shyly at the gesture, weakly grasping at your clothes as he feels the way you begin to trail them along his jaw, sucking and biting until you’re seeing the beginnings of marks that will bloom there, “shame it didn’t work— cause you’re all mine, right gyu?”

Like clockwork, he nods; his face heats up and he feels a bit ashamed at how quickly he’s melted under your hold, but any embarrassment is washed away the moment he feels your hand begin to fumble with his belt, clumsily undoing it before you’re moving to undo his jeans. 

“Wait,” you breathe against his neck, feeling him shiver softly; he’s confused, whining softly at the sudden loss of touch until he’s watching as you pull away, glancing behind your shoulder before you’re meeting his eyes with a blank expression, “take me to your room.”

For a second, he’s confused about the sudden switch of your behavior— but then he’s looking over your shoulder and right at the direction you glanced at, a sudden laugh breaking through him when he spots Toto in the corner; sheepishly, he nods. 

“Okay,” he says, smiling shyly at the way you reach out for the hand placed on the small of your back, intertwining your fingers so naturally it’s almost instinct, “yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

He watches you kick off your shoes and allows you to lead him straight to his room— he’s surprised you even remembered where it is— and smiles at the way you tug him closer by the collar the moment you step inside, palms pressing flat on his chest and making him walk backwards until his knees are hitting the edge of the bed— he falls back, hair splaying prettily on his sheets as he looks up at you with expectant, adoring eyes. 

You’re straddling him immediately after; planting your core directly on his prominent bulge, taking in the way he lets out a broken whimper at the feeling of your heat pressing against him so well— his hands fly to your waist, fingers weakly digging into the meat of your hips as he attempts to subtly buck up into you; you tsk, shaking your head and leaning down to place a hand firm on his chest. 

“Bad pup,” you say softly, hovering above his lips and watching as he desperately chases them, “You need to be patient, okay?”

He nods frantically, eyes fluttering shut the moment you press your lips against him slowly, feeling the way he desperately seeks to taste you— you allow him to, wandering hands beginning to unbutton his pristine white shirt slowly as he remains distracted. 

Beomgyu is a lot more fit than you expected; lean muscle greeting you the moment you slip his shirt off his shoulders, leaning up to let him take it off and raking your nails down his skin— his stomach flinches at your nails scratch at it, and you smile childishly at the sight, the action reminiscent to the first time you got your hands on him. 

“So pretty…” you mumble to yourself, tracing a path along his chest, down to his navel, watching as he shivers at your touch; a shaky gasp escapes his lips, hands grabbing at his sheets and eyes fluttering shut as he fights back the urge to buck up into you again— your eyes flicker up to study his expression, titling your head curiously as a smile tugs at your lips. 

“You’re so pretty, Beomgyu,” you say again, leaning down to plant soft kisses along his neck, beginning to trail down until you’re at his chest— you’re able to watch the way his skin flushes a soft pink at your words, shy gaze averting quickly the moment you’re looking back up at him— and you laugh softly to yourself, hovering over his lap and trailing a hand down as you begin to undo his pants with ease. 

“Y’know, I’ve never seen you so dressed up before,” you comment offhandedly, taking a moment to observe his pristine clothes, his styled hair— and your jaw clenches at the thought of Yunjin seeing him like this, an inkling of jealousy beginning to rear its ugly head the longer you think about it; you’re tugging at his pants, watching as his hips lift to help you tug them down more, and scoff at your wandering thoughts. 

“Bet you would’ve loved to have her attention on you, hmm?” you say, beginning to roll your hips against his the moment he opens his mouth to protest— a sharp moan leaves Beomgyu instead, mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt grinding against his, the only thing separating the two of you being your thin panties and his boxers that are quickly becoming ruined; his eyes flicker down to where you continue to roll your hips, the sight of your skirt riding up and bunching up at your thighs enough to have his cock twitch. 

“Just can’t control yourself when you’re with a cute girl— just can’t say no,” Beomgyu’s hips jump and he lets out a long whine at a particularly harsh roll of your hips, feeling his cock slot perfectly against your cunt, the material of your panties soaked and sticking to your pussy, able to feel you better the more pressure you add; his hands fly to your hips once more, but instead of trying to guide your pace, they simply remain there, grabbing at your skirt and fisting the material in his hands, flushed face and shining eyes begging silently for more. 

“No— can’t, can’t say no— ah!” Beomgyu begins, unable to speak properly with the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of your warm cunt on his aching cock, “can’t say no to you… fuck…”

His words are enough to catch you off guard; your pace is stuttering and your eyes are widening, the brief pause enough to give Beomgyu enough confidence to continue— his eyes are glassy as he stares up at you, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles on your hips as he speaks. 

“Could never say no to you…” he says softly, face reddening as he continues, “you’re too pretty to say no to.”

He doesn’t quite meet your gaze after that; he’s too shy to, but with the way you immediately begin to undress before him after a moment, he’s sure that he must’ve flipped a switch inside you. 

“God, you’re so cute…” you mutter, throwing your shirt off in a random direction before you’re sliding your skirt off— and Beomgyu is growing flustered at the sight again, practically malfunctioning from seeing your body for the first time. 

You’re left in only your underwear when you finally decide you’ve had enough of his shyness, grabbing his face with a firm hand and turning it to look back at you; your nails dig into his plush cheeks and his eyes grow wide at the gesture, meeting your eyes as you simply give him a coy smile and a peck to his lips. 

“So pathetic too,” you continue, watching his adam’s apple bob at your condescending words, “I love it.” 

You lean close to his ear; slowly, you take his hands and begin guiding them along your body, feeling the way his breath hitches and his chest begins to take shallow breaths, shaky fingertips grazing against your skin, up your biceps until you’re leading him to your back, straight to your bra strap.

“Undo it,” you murmur against the shell of his ear, able to listen to the way he gulps softly; nervous hands fiddle with the clasp, the way you place chaste kisses to the spot behind his ear not helping in the slightest— and after a moment, you’re finally able to feel the garment loosening around you, along with a soft sigh the boy lets out. 

The straps slip off your shoulders slowly, and with a coy smile, you make a show of discarding your bra, sitting back and watching as Beomgyu’s face turns impossibly red; his eyes are wide and his hands are frozen, unsure of what to do as you simply huff at the sight— and your hands are taking his once more, guiding them slowly until he’s cupping your breasts; he gulps again, and you pout at the sight. 

“Don’t you wanna touch me?” you pout, tilting your head and watching as the man underneath you remains reliant on your instructions to do anything; his eyes snap back up to meet yours at your words, shaking his head softly and opening his mouth to stutter protests.

“I– I do, I do,” he says, licking his lips nervously before looking back down at your breasts, thumbs experimentally swiping across your nipples; you shiver at the feeling, the sight of even your smallest reactions making Beomgyu’s cock ache, “I just… I’m not sure what to do….what you’d like.” 

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, absentmindedly guiding his hands to touch and caress your breasts just how you like, your back aching slightly at the stimulation, “I can teach you.” 

“Please,” Beomgyu whines out, hands finally beginning to move on their own as a smile grows on your face, watching the way looks at you with needy, fucked out eyes, “Please, wanna make you feel good.” 

“Do you now?” you tease, titling your head and raising a brow at him questioningly; he nods his head fervently, eyes filled with an undeniably desire that leads him to take your body in hungrily, trailing from your chest down until he stops right at your cunt thats pressed so perfectly against him. 

His line of sight is terribly obvious— though you don’t think it was Beomgyu’s intention to hide his desires anyway, not with the way your back is suddenly colliding against his bed, a gasp escaping you the moment you feel warm hands prying your legs open; you’re propping yourself up with your elbows, wide eyes meeting Beomgyu’s; the said man kneels on the floor and is now at eye level with your soaked cunt— his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, and with a soft laugh, you realize that Beomgyu is yet again waiting for further instructions. 

“Can I taste you?” He asks meekly, eyes shining behind the lenses of his glasses, the sight endearing and a complete switch from the words that leave his mouth, “will you let me?”

Silence— all he gets in response is a slow sigh, the boy peeking through his lashes to get a gauge of your expression; he gulps at the sight of your narrowed eyes and pinched brows, mind undoubtedly thinking of scenarios that sour your mood— but the sight of you like this is much too tempting, and Beomgyu will be damned if he doesn’t get to lose himself in your pussy at least once; his cock pathetically twitches at the mere thought. 

“I don’t know puppy,” you murmur, sneering at the way he pouts immediately, strong hands tugging at you and pulling you towards him more, body sliding at the movement— and though you can feel him breathe against your clothed cunt, he still refrains from doing anything, waiting loyally for your okay with pleading eyes. 

“Do you think you deserve it?” you ask, throwing a leg over his shoulder, digging the heel of your foot in between his shoulder blades roughly— he practically keens at the feeling, a poorly stifled whimper escaping him, followed by a shaky sigh, “after seeing the way you’ll give anyone who approaches you all your attention like a slut, I don’t think you do.” 

You make sure to punctuate your words with another dig of your heel, but Beomgyu remains unaffected— if anything, it manages to spur him on more, and you’re left to pretend as though his next actions don’t leave you terribly weak. 

“Please…” he whispers, the sound so soft you barely miss it— he’s pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, lips lingering on the skin before he looks back up to meet your gaze; his eyes are glazed with nothing but need. The single word continues to leave him like a mantra, unable to do anything more than watch as he begins to litter kisses all over your inner thighs, soft begs slowly increasing their intensity the longer you deny him. 

I deserve it, I do; please, please let me make you feel good, promise you’re the only one for me— please? Please, please please please…

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of Beomgyu’s broken, repetitive begging— his hair brushes against your sensitive skin that has been peppered with endless kisses, and if it weren’t for the way Beomgyu’s eyes were beginning to become watery from his desperation, you would’ve allowed yourself to enjoy the show a little more. 

“You want it that much?” you seethe, a hand going down to tangle itself in his long hair— and, just as expected, he lets out a broken whine, followed with an immediate, breathy “yes” that affects you much more than you let on, “Go on then.” 

You’re guiding his head to your cunt without another word, fingers still entangled tightly in the roots of his hair; he begins with a soft kiss to your cunt, the sight making you roll your eyes— for someone so eager, he sure was hesitant. 

His tongue is hot and heavy against your clit; he’s running the tip of it along your slit, listening to the hitch of your breath and taking in every miniscule reaction you provide— he’s teasing you, albeit unintentionally, and the realization has you tightening your hold on his roots in warning; you feel the way he lets out a shaky breath at the action, and soon after, his fingers are tugging at the waistband of your panties, making slow work to properly take them off. 

Beomgyu’s every movement is feather-like and hesitant; it’s clear he’s testing out the waters, unsure of what to do in order to please you— and while a part of you is endeared at the messy kitten licks of his tongue and the way he circles your clit sloppily, the other part of you seems to be feeling much more unforgiving— you’re tugging his hair and telling him to look at you with a harsh voice. 

“What happened to wanting to please me? To deserving this?” you mock, lips quirking to a satisfied smile the moment his face heats up, ears tinting a soft red, “are you too much of a virgin to know how to eat a girl out?”

His face turns a bright red and he remains silent— you can only manage a bewildered laugh at the sight. 

Of course, how did you not piece it together before? It seems as though you were much too generous to give him the benefit of the doubt before, because as you stare Beomgyu down with a gaze that’s nothing short of predatory, you’ve realized that his silence tells you more than enough; He’s a total virgin. 

“Oh, you don’t know anything, do you?” you coo softly, letting go of Beomgyu’s scalp to caress his face softly, a grin threatening to break through your face from the simple sight of the man melting into your touch, “you need me to guide you through it?” 

With a shaky sigh, Beomgyu nods— it barely takes a moment before you’re pushing at the back of his head and guiding him back to your cunt. 

He didn’t bother to take off his glasses; you didn’t bother to remind him, smiling cruelly as you murmur soft instructions to him, telling him to suck on your clit or guiding his mouth to lick at your entrance, responding with soft sighs of pleasure whenever he does something particularly well; he’s sloppy, inexperienced, and undeniably nervous, but you suppose he makes up for its with his eagerness to do well as he continues, slowly taking note of what makes your hips buck and your fingers tighten against his hair— and after a few minutes, you’re no longer instructing Beomgyu step by step, but instead throwing your head back and letting your mouth fall open with unabashed moans. 

Beomgyu’s eagerness is abundant and blatant. He’s pressing his face against your cunt after having gained confidence, mouth sloppy and hanging open as he allows you to grind against him, feeling his glasses slip down the tall bridge of his nose and fog up with every pant of breath— but he finds that he doesn’t really mind, eyes fluttering shut and lips circling around your clit as he hones in to the sounds you make instead. 

You think Beomgyu’s head is completely empty at this point; his fingers dig into your thighs and he continues his attempts to bring you closer against his face, greedy mouth drinking up any arousal that slips from your entrance before he’s fucking you with his tongue— your hips buck unintentionally against him at that, and from the way he only increases his efforts even further, you think he might’ve enjoyed that. 

“Beomgyu— puppy, fuck,” you hiss, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the way his nose is now pressed against your clit from how close he’s attempting to get to you. Your chest heaves and you can feel a tight knot forming in your stomach, body beginning to become restless as Beomgyu remains unfazed at your sudden squirming— you’re close, so close, and Beomgyu wants nothing more than to feel you fall apart against his face. 

“Shit– right there, just like that— don’t stop, god, fuck—!” Your eyes are screwed shut as a sudden wave of pleasure breaks through you, your hand pulling at Beomgyu’s hair and your heel digging sharply into his back as you cum; the boy only lets out a pathetic whine at the feeling of you rolling your hips smoothly against his face, mouth left ajar and eyes fluttering shut as he lets you use him, riding it out with twitchy legs and soft moans. 

Beomgyu only moves after your grip slips from his head entirely; your whole body is falling slack, a deep sigh escaping you as you attempt to catch your breath, eyes bleary and slowly opening after a moment— you’re able to watch as the said boy goes to stand, a weak hand of yours stopping his motion and grabbing at his shoulder— and you’re guiding him to hover over you, smiling coyly at the wrecked sight of him. 

His glasses are completely skewed— a slight heat burns at your face from the sight, but it’s all washed away by the lopsided smile Beomgyu gives you, entirely unaware of his flushed and messy appearance; gently, you reach out to slip off his glasses, putting them off to the side as you reach to adjust his mused hair next— he merely watches your face with doe eyes as you brush his hair away gently, tucking it behind his ear before you cup his jaw, tugging him down to kiss you again.

“You’re sure you wanna do this?” you mumble against his lips, hands absentmindedly running along his skin soothingly, lips beginning to wander off as you trail soft pecks against his jawline, smiling at the way he doesn’t hesitate to nod, “you want it?”

“Need it,” Beomgyu whines, letting out a shaky breath as he grabs your hand, guiding it down his chest slowly, adding pressure once you’ve reached the bulge of his boxers— you can feel the way he twitches the moment you touch him, gulping softly before the continues to plead, “need it, need to feel you.” 

His voice is sweet and soft in your ears, and you find that you can’t really bring yourself to put up a front and resist; it’s physically impossible to, especially with the way he ruts his cock against your hand, leaking pathetically and twitching at even the slightest stimulation.

Beomgyu’s attempts to remain calm and collected falls apart the moment you relent, face red and eyes wide with anticipation the moment he feels your hand go to pull his cock out; he falters above you for a split second, teeth sinking into his lip to suppress a whine that builds up in his throat. But his attempts are futile as always, a broken whimper leaving him the moment you press the head of his cock against your cunt, tightening around the shaft and proceeding to run it along your slit teasingly. 

He’s practically panting above you, fingers gripping onto the sheets as he allows you to toy with him, eyes glassy and meeting yours as you simply coo mockingly at him, teasing him for being nothing but a toy for you to use.

The moment you press his tip against your entrance, the two of you tense; a shaky sigh escapes you at the stretch, looking up at Beomgyu and whispering for him to just put it in already; and he swallows, eyes watering at the feeling of him finally pushing into you— warm, wet walls that flutter around him, stretching and adjusting to his size; your hips that jolt with every inch he slides in, eyes widening and mouth falling open as you try to contain your composure— but his size is no joke, and curses leaves your mouth endlessly at the feeling of him filling you up.

“God— you’re so… so warm, so tight,” Beomgyu cries above you, hips stuttering and making him push himself deeper into you; a yelp escapes you at the feeling, hips pressed flushed against his as you stare up at him with wide eyes, cunt clenching at the anticipation of him fucking you. 

But he simply remains still, and you’re just about to complain for him to move when you catch sight of his expression, screwed up into concentration as he lets out a deep breath— probably trying not to cum, you muse to yourself— and he sits up, no longer hovering over you as his hands move to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles on the skin as he looks down where the two of you connect; he looks up at you, puppy eyes begging for one thing. 

“You— you can move,” you breathe out, cringing slightly at the weak sound of your voice, the way you trip over your words; Beomgyu nods, sighing shakily again before he finally begins to move, slowly pulling out until the only thing you feel is his tip catching at your entrance— then he thrusts back in, and you don’t bother to swallow down the moan that manifests from that. 

Beomgyu isn’t faring any better than you; his brows are knitted together and his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips, voice pitchy and whiny as he attempts to fuck you properly— but his thrusts are sloppy and rough, and it seems as though he’s too concentrated on the feeling of you around him to find a good pace. 

You’re opening your mouth to tease him about it, only to get cut off at the feeling of him bumping his cock against your sweet spot; a whine leaves you unexpectedly, the sound accompanied with the feeling of your legs attempting to wrap around his waist to pull him in enough to snap him out of his pussy drunk daze. He’s drinking up your expression, his pace slowing down enough to allow him to search for that spot again— it takes a few attempts, but once he catches onto it, he doesn’t relent. 

“Sh–shit, just like that,” you whine, his thrust becoming more calculated as he begins to take note of what makes you feel good once more— though it’s still slightly sloppy and uneven, his weak pants and pitchy whines enough to tell you that his mind is much too hazy to care.

Absentmindedly, your hand snakes down to circle at your clit in search of more stimulation— only to get it knocked away roughly by Beomgyu’s, eyes widening at the action until he’s replacing you hand with his— and though you wish you could make fun of him for being such a desperate bitch, the stimulation has your voice getting caught in your throat.  

“Does— does this feel good?” Beomgyu suddenly asks, puppy eyes watering and glazed as he picks up his pace, one hand gripping onto your waist while the other continues to rub your clit, “Am I– ah… am I doing good?”

You almost miss the last part with how softly he says it— but once you process his question, you let out a breathy laugh, biting at your lip in an attempt to suppress the smile that tugs at your face; you fail miserably, but all the patronizing look in your eyes does is make Beomgyu’s cock twitch inside you a bit. 

“Does my stupid puppy need something? Need my approval?” you ask, pouting at the way he hesitates to answer, “I won’t know unless you tell me, baby.” 

The pet names are enough to have Beomgyu short-circuiting again; his face feels hot and he lets out a petulant whine at the way you continue to tease, ignoring his pleading look as you reach up to cup his jaw, cooing his name so sweetly he’s unable to be ashamed at how easily he breaks. 

“Tell me I’m doing good,” he whines, and you simply smile at him, stuttered breaths and soft moans the only thing leaving your lips as you notice the increased sloppiness of his thrusts, his erratic voice and face that slowly nears yours, hovering over you as he speaks.

“I’m— ‘m good, right? Your…” he trails off, punctuating his next word with a harsh, deep thrust that has you yelping, “your good boy— tell me, tell me I’m good, just wanna hear you say it, ah, wanna be good for you.” 

He’s a babbling, whining mess, hiding his face in your neck immediately after the words escape him— and with a request so sweet, how could you ever deny him?

“So good for me,” you immediately respond, listening to the muffled whimpers as he buries his head deeper into your neck, wandering lips sucking and biting at the skin, “good little pup— fuck, are you close? Gonna fill me up?” 

You feel the way he nods frantically against you, his hand leaving your hip to circle under your back, pulling you flush against him as he continues his rough, haphazard thrusts— and you turn your head to face him, pressing a kiss to his head before you lean in close to his ear, the sounds of your breathy moans and sweet voice enough to bring him over the edge. 

“C’mon, cum for me puppy,” you coo, listening to the long whimper he lets out in response, hips stilling and pressing flush against yours as he follows your command, warm cum filling you up as he rides out his orgasm, cock rutting subtly into you all the while, “that’s it— such a good boy, so perfect to me.” 

His chest heaves against yours; his other arm comes up to sneak under your body as well, successfully hugging you close against him, bodies pressed together and practically one with how tightly he’s got you in his grip— his cock remains inside you all the while, head nuzzled deeply in the space of your neck as you merely let out an amused huff, giving him a moment to catch his breath before you tease him again. 

The moment of peace between the two of you is cut by the abrasive sound of his phone ringing, the two of you looking at the source with furrowed brows; neither of you make a move to get it, watching it continue to vibrate on the bed before it goes silent— you’re both falling back against the bed the moment in bliss the moment the ringtone disappears, and you can feel Beomgyu’s arms tightening around you even more, not expecting him to be so openly clingy—

“You didn’t cum,” Beomgyu suddenly gasps, head popping up from his hiding place as he hovers over you with wide eyes. You simply reassure him that it’s alright, already feeling your body get heavy with exhaustion— but he isn’t having it, shaking his head and standing back up as he looks at you with an unbelievably solemn expression, wincing softly as he pulls out of you, “No, I wanna make you cum— wanna feel you cum on my dick, wanna make you feel good.” 

The words sound clumsy coming from him, oddly shy to say what he wants out loud— and it makes you laugh, attempting to tell him that you really don’t mind when you’re getting interrupted by the annoying sound of his phone ringing. 

“Seriously, who the hell is…” you’re trailing off as you watch Beomgyu’s eyes widen, leaning over to snatch his phone as he reads the contact name, his horrified expression telling you all you need to know. 

“Don’t answer it,” you seethe, ignoring the way he stutters about how he totally forgot to cancel, feeling a hot anger bubble in your stomach as he talks about how bad he feels for not communicating properly, “Beomgyu, don’t answer it!” 

“I— what if she’s waiting outside right now—?!”

Your movements are much too sudden and swift for him to process; he can only watch and allow you to snatch the phone away from him, rough hands gripping his shoulders and hissing at him to fucking sit; he’s quick to comply, and you’re even quicker to climb onto his lap and situate yourself just how you like— he cries softly at the feeling of you grabbing at his sensitive cock, stroking it for a moment and aligning it with your entrance before you’re sinking down on him slowly. 

“Who cares if she’s outside right now,” you scowl, digging your fingers in his cheeks and forcing him to look at you, swollen lips red and pouty as he merely whines at the feeling of you rocking slowly against him, “it’s the least we could do to get back at her for trying to fucking use you.”

His protests die down once you pick up your pace; oh, his face practically screams, eyes glazing over at the feeling of your warm pussy using his sensitive cock to get yourself off, soft cries leaving him as he merely watches you begin to ride him expertly, already feeling himself get hard inside you, the sight of you on top of him and the sounds of skin against skin riling him much more than expected.

“Hnng, wait, slow down please—!” he whines softly, hands flying to your hips yet making no attempts to control the pace— and you can only laugh at him, the sounds of his soft cries enough to encourage you more. 

You’re close— so, so close, and all Beomgyu can do is sit and take it, tears of sensitivity pricking at his eyes and falling along his cheeks the moment he feels your walls clench against him— but he’d rather die than stop you, sp entranced with the sight of your face twisted with pleasure that his body screams at him to do what he can to make you feel good. 

Like instinct, your hand tangles itself in Beomgyu’s hair the moment he latches his lips against your nipple, back arching and the tight knot in your stomach falling apart the moment his wandering hand goes to play with your clit; the way your walls spasm and hug him tightly is enough to have Beomgyu cumming inside you again, a pathetic keen sounding from him as he buries his head in your chest, beyond sensitive with the way you continue to ride your orgasm long after.

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of your panting and Beomgyu’s soft whimpers— but it doesn’t last long, a tired groan escaping you at the sound of Beomgyu’s phone ringing again; without much of a thought, you reach for it and finally answer. 

“Leave him alone. He’s busy.” 

You hang up immediately after— the girl on the other side didn’t get the chance to utter a single word, and you find that you couldn’t care less as you toss his phone to the side and look over at Beomgyu— you’re smiling softly at the way he seems mortified at your action. 

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel bad,” you sigh, placing your hands on his chest and pushing, gently guiding the two of you to lay down— he remains inside you as he pulls you in close, your limbs heavy and tangling quickly as he mutters a soft no, I don’t; you smile. “Good. Cause I almost got mad again.”

He chuckles softly at that, falling quiet after; you look up at him to gauge his expression, finding that he’s lost in thought. After a few minutes, he meets your eyes meekly and finally speaks. 

“Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

A pause. You said a lot of things earlier— but as you retract on every little thing that's come from your mouth, you realize what he’s talking about— and you laugh, reaching to cup his cheeks fondly as you nod. 

“Of course I did,” you grin, pecking his lips, your heart fluttering wildly at the way he immediately chases after you for more after you pull away, “I meant all of it— and more.” 

Softly, he smiles. His arms that were wrapped around you pull you in close, closing the space between you and bringing you in for a slow, sweet kiss— he pulls away, leaning into your ear to whisper something with a coy smile. 

“So do you wanna play League of Legends later?”

You let out an annoyed yell and punch at his chest— you practically fuck his brains out, and this is all he can say?

“You’re such a fucking loser,” you mourn, hiding your face in your hands. 

Beomgyu laughs, and places a kiss on the top of your head. 

“But I’m your loser,” he says sweetly, nuzzling against your hair with a content sigh, “all yours.”

Under the covers of your hands, you smile. 

All yours. You like the sound of that. 

[doughyk]

ＳＴＥＰ ＯＮ ＭＥ- distracted

haechan sighs as he puts his phone down , only a few feet away from you. Nervously shaking his hand deciding on what to do, deciding to just focus on his backpack not letting the thought of you distract him. lord knows why he is now suddenly up and walking right towards you, almost like he’s not in control of his body.

Standing right behind you he lifts his hand up to touch your shoulder, you immediately flinch letting out a small yelp. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you!, I just wanted to say hi because I know your jisungs sister” haechan quickly rambles. awkwardly staring up at him gives him chills down his spine. “Yeah hi haechan, I don’t think we ever truly talked before” you said nervously smiling, letting the awkwardness fill the air. “Do you want to sit?” haechan takes your offer and pulls out the chair right next to you.

“Jisung said something about you needing a tutor for calculus, I am more than willing to help you with that since I am quite good at calculus” he boosts about himself. You quickly clear your dry throat “Oh yea I thought he told you that I’m good, isa was supposed to come study with me today but something came up. If I need any help I can just ask jisung to ask you for help!” You quietly but confidently say.

“Uhm okay! well actually how about I just give you my number just to make it easier on jisung!” haechan grabs a sticky note off your planner and quickly writes his number down . Handing it back to you he gently touches your hand “just feel free to text me anytime you have trouble or have a question! I am here” and with that he quickly walks away leaving you dumbfounded.

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁- OPEN @haechansbbg @amrqxz @byeonwooseokabs @222brainrot @anglswon @chenlesfavorite @nanaxwi @daegalfangirl @yewshi @starfilledgaze @toroufriteh @sunflowerhae @injunnie-lemon

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- profanity, content of alcohol usage ( characters are legal age 21), some “sexual” jokes, jokes about death, jokingly death threats,vaping

My first actual writing, DONT KNOW IF ITS EVEN GOOD, you have to be nice to me it’s the law! ALSO DONT MIND MARKS AND HAECHANS TEXT, I messed up and accidentally deleted the chat but forgot what I put down lol

[citrus-moonlight]

Danger Starts the Sharp Incline

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Demon!Klaue x Fem Scientist Reader Chapters: 1 of 1 Word count: 4.5K Rating: Explicit

Summary: At your scientific organization the study of demon energy output has become no less mundane than it would at any other research facility. That is until you find yourself trapped with the demon who has recently shifted in your thoughts from an idle curiosity to a distraction.

Warnings: Explicit Rating!, No Age Specified, PWP, One Shot, Smut, Let Me Be Clear: This Is Absolute Filth, Monster Fucking, Demon Fucking, Could be viewed as Dubcon, Implied Mind Manipulation, But to be clear reader is Into It, Pet Names, Touch Starved Demon, Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Big Hands I Know You're the One, Unprotected PIV, Size Kink, Squirting, A Lot of Demon Cum, Like A Lot, Cum Marking, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms (both), Overstimulation, Possessiveness

A/N: Once again, this was supposed to be a quick little smutty thing that ended up getting very, very away from me. This honestly could have been even longer (it was over 5.5k and counting at one point!), but I managed to reign myself in, lol. I almost feel like I have enough for a part two, so who knows, perhaps I'll revisit this AU one day in the future!

This was inspired by the first bit of this absolutely incredible demon/scientist blurb* by @biscuitdragonwithastick, which you should definitely read first (thank you for the ok to go ahead with this!). It fully dug its claws (pun intended?) into my brain and refused let me go. I couldn't stop thinking about a Demon!Klaue AU, and thanks to some lovely encouragement, this is the result!

Please, please mind the tags, my dears, and thank you for reading!

*Demon's name has been changed here to fit the AU

Dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics ❤️

UPDATING TO ADD PLEASE GO CHECK OUT THIS DEMON!KLAUE FANART BY MY INCREDIBLE LOVELY TALENTED FRIEND, truly I have not stopped screaming! 😍🥹💕

Work title is from "All Mine" by Portishead

AO3 Link

Make no mistake You shan't escape Tethered and tied There's nowhere to hide from me All mine You have to be

Klaw’s reaction continues to be noted by the higher-ups, and eventually it’s decided that they want to conduct an experiment, using you.

The next time you’re scheduled on the cleaning rotation they want to take the opportunity to determine if there’s a measurable difference in output and chemical composition - before and after you’ve been in the room with him.

“Just consider what it might mean to the future of energy research”, they’d said. “It could lead to the discovery of a demon-sensitive pheromone additive that boosts energy output across the board.”

Although you flush at the outward acknowledgement of what’s been happening, you can’t deny that it intrigues you.

Especially since you had started dreaming about him.

Since you’d stopped being able to control how wet you got when you observed him.

Since the self-consciousness you’d felt at the sidelong glances of your colleagues had started feeling like something else. 

Something like pride.

* * * * * *

Two days later you’re scheduled for the night shift alone, with not much else to do but make the occasional note in the shift log and wait for the alarm that indicates the mare’s collection tank is full. So you wait. 

And watch.

For the first time you have a chance to really just look at him, and you’re finding it difficult to pay attention to the instruments that you should be monitoring. Your eyes instead are continually drawn back to the observation window and the thick mop of black curls that falls across his forehead where his horns emerge, sharp features are framed by the scruff of a dark beard, and an intriguing mix of tattoos, brands and scars play across the planes and curves of his body.

Although his muscles aren’t as chiseled as many of the demons you've observed in this facility his shoulders and arms are thick, and you unconsciously lick your lips as your eyes follow the dark hair that covers his broad chest and abdomen down to where it meets the wiry hair at the base of his cock.

A slick warmth has been slowly pooling between your thighs since you settled into your chair at the beginning of the shift, but as you watch the bored pumping of his hips fall into a smoother, swaying rhythm, that warmth ignites.

Widening his stance, hooved feet brace on the floor as he pulls out further before thrusting back in, letting you watch his cock slide slowly back into the machine’s opening, burying himself with a jutting roll of his hips, over and over. Almost teasing. 

Almost taunting.

This could be you.

It’s only when Klaw drags his hands along the metal “body” of the mare that you notice it: The claws of the first three fingers of his right hand seem to be…gone? 

With a flicker of concern you flip a switch on the console, using the camera to zoom in. 

Ok, no, they’re not gone per se, but they’re definitely shorter, nearly down to the quick. Was it an accident? Did they break in a fervor as he fucked the contraption? 

Frowning at the screen your mind turns over the possibilities, but before you can think to add the peculiarity to your notes your thoughts fizzle away when you glance back up to the observation window and see that he’s watching you.

As soon as your eyes meet his the tease in his movements falls away and he’s bottoming out hard against the opening in a rough, stuttered rhythm as his eyes cloud over, and you know from past observation that he’s nearing the edge.

Your inner muscles clench and the ache that’s been building since you walked in here swells and overlaps with a flaring jealousy when Klaw shudders and growls, filling the receptacle with another thick load of his seed.

You don’t even realize that you stood up until you feel the cool glass of the observation window beneath your palms, your breath fogging the surface as you press yourself against the barrier.

There’s still a slow, uneven cadence to the demon’s thrusts following his climax, but his gaze swiftly sharpens on you again when one of your hands drifts idly across your stomach, then lower, fingers brushing over the top button of your pants-

-and then you jump when a shrill sound interrupts you, nearly growling at the surge of frustration.

The alarm is piercing and incessant and won’t stop until you enter the demon’s room, so you return to the control panel to activate the sigil that will keep him contained while you clean and recalibrate the machine - tests having shown that a laser projection of the correct wavelength of light is just as effective as a physical binding.

Once you’re through the airlock you quickly set to working through the checklist, unhooking the mechanism that feeds into tanks in the floor and connecting it to a fresh one. You move on to cleaning the unfeeling hole that the demon fucks into day in and day out, your breath going shallow at the jealousy that continues to singe your nerves. 

His gaze stays entirely focused on you as you move around, cock swaying heavily in front of  broad thighs - still hard, always hard - the still leaking head so dark it’s nearly purple. 

The slick between your thighs has only increased since you started to work, fairly certain that you’ve soaked through your panties at this point, and when you have to pass closer to his “cage” he leans forward, nearly pressing himself against the barrier as he follows your path.

Inhaling deeply his cock twitches, more cum dripping from the tip as he ruts at the air, and you can't help but wonder if he’s picking up your frustrated arousal.

“Hurry up.” you chide yourself. “Stop getting distracted. Just finish your shit and get out.”

Kneeling down behind the machine you open the access panel and flip through the menus until you find the one that will complete the calibration, and while you’re focused on watching it cycle you don’t notice the outer door open from the hall into the observation room. 

The intern who enters must not see you where you’re kneeling on the floor, and evidently thinking that the trap has been left on in error he flips the switch to deactivate it.

When the light from the beaming sigil goes dark you pop up in alarm, the face of the intern frozen in an almost comedic grimace of horror when he finally registers that you’re staring back at him from the wrong side of the glass. 

The man reaches for the switch again but Klaw’s reflexes are faster, and before the trap can be reactivated the demon rushes the door. Slamming his shoulder against it he jams it so thoroughly they'll need to bring in special equipment to get it open again, but at this time of night it'll be hours, if you’re lucky, before a crew gets here.

Then he rounds on you.

With an oddly warm sense of detachment you think that you should feel fear as you watch the slow grin spread across his face, but the only thing you feel is a surge of hot, aching desire. 

He rumbles something you don’t understand, though the rough texture of his words is still intoxicating, and before you realize what you’re doing you’re walking towards him, pulling your shirt over your head as you move. 

Because right now you find that you want - need - to bare yourself for him, the sensation of it intense that your skin feels like it’s going to scald if you don’t get your clothes off now, and your shoes, pants and underwear quickly join the discarded pile on the floor.

Stopping in front of him you reach back to unclasp your bra, but your arms pause mid-way when Klaw’s hand reaches out, your breath hitching when he hooks a large, clawed finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his.

You’d always assumed that his eyes were black, but this close you realize that they’re actually an impossibly deep blue, a blue that only resides along the penumbra of light and shadow where the last rays of sun reach into the depths of the ocean

You stand mesmerized as his hand dips lower, leaving behind a trail of gooseflesh as a claw trails gently down the delicate skin of your neck and chest, and then with a flick of his wrist the last scrap of fabric covering you gives way, exposing your breasts to the cool air.  

You’ve barely shrugged off the ruined garment when suddenly you’re being picked up - so, so easily - and placed on a table, swiftly reminded of how much larger and stronger he is than you, and once again dimly aware that you should feel fear, or dread, or some instinct telling you to run.

Not of the shiver of anticipation that leaves your breath hitching in your chest. 

Definitely not the wild need blooming in your core as sharp teeth ghost along the place where your blood thrums, his breath hot and his skin hotter.

His mouth continues its path downward, pausing to lick at the soft swell of your breasts, taking a moment to pull and pluck at your nipples with his lips. A pleased growl vibrates against your skin when you lean back onto your hands with a moan, arching into the swirl of his tongue around your pebbled flesh. 

It’s not long, though, before he can no longer ignore the way this increases the heated musk between your thighs, leaving behind a wet trail of saliva as his mouth travels down, seeking the place where you’re already dripping for him.

The demon's hands nearly wrap entirely around your thighs yet his touch is almost cautious as he presses you open, mesmerized by the way you unfold for him like the petals of a flower, slick and shining.

HIs eyes are heavy lidded as thick fingers begin to tease through your folds, toying with your clit, surprising you with how softly he rolls it between thumb and forefinger, a grin curving the corner of his mouth when your hips buck into his touch.

Noting your reaction he repeats the motion, gently pinching and rolling the sensitive bud until your mouth drops open and your breath is coming in sharp gasps, his dark eyes staying fixed between your legs as thick fingers coax a warm, honeyed orgasm from you, leaving you keening and startled by the slow intensity of it.

You’ve barely caught your breath when you feel his mouth suddenly envelop your mound, lapping eagerly at your release as you whine and writhe beneath his tongue, overwhelmed at the stimulation.

It’s too much, all of this is too much, but as he continues licking and suckling at your sensitive flesh you find that you’re no longer fighting it, the hum of bliss that hadn’t yet faded already building to a fresh swell, and when his lips capture your clit with a sudden fluttering pressure your body stiffens as your second orgasm flares through you, sharper and brighter than the first. 

When he finally releases you he speaks again, but through the haze of afterglow it takes a moment for it to register that this time you think that you understand him, the word seeming to appear within your mind at the same time that you hear it from his glistening lips.

“Sweet.” 

With a start you look down at him and he pauses, head tilting, curiosity knitting his heavy brows. 

Not moving his eyes from yours, his voice is a low, tentative purr when he speaks again.

“Would your sweet cunt like..more?”

Holy fuck. You can understand him.

Your thoughts spin as the shock works its way through you, the analytical part of your mind attempting to parse what the fuck is happening. Is it the increased time in his proximity? The physical contact? Whatever the mechanism, you can suddenly hear- or perhaps more accurately feel - his words, somewhere deep in your conscience.

A firm nod, then, in answer to his question, a responding pull of his lips into a slow, pleased grin.

Dipping his head Klaw licks a broad, wet stripe up your cleft, and then he’s devouring you, slavering hungrily against your sex, drool mixing with your arousal as his lips and tongue work your aching bundle of nerves until you’re gasping shallow breaths, every muscle strung taught as you hover on the edge once more.

Seeking for an anchor your hands find his curved horns, warm and leathery beneath your scrabbling fingers, and then with a rasping cry you’re coming in long, surging waves, your entire body trembling as your hips chase every flutter of pleasure on the tip of his tongue. 

Dimly you think that he must be satisfied now, that you must be satisfied, yet it seems as though with every climax you only hunger more intensely for the next. 

Once your hands release his horns and fall limp at your sides Klaw straightens up, and then wrapping his hand around his cock he starts roughly stroking himself. 

Almost without thinking your legs fall open, shaky arms pulling your knees back to expose yourself to him, knowing he can see how your soaked cunt still clenches through the last waves of your orgasm, and it’s only a few more strokes before he’s coming with a rough jerk of his hips and you gasp at the heat, thick ropes of cum streaking across your slick folds and the insides of your thighs.  

Still breathing hard, the pumping of his fist gradually slows, a hand drifting along the curve of your inner thigh as his focus comes back to you. Gathering some of the sticky mess he left between your legs he drags it through your folds, and then suddenly a thick finger is sliding into you.

Even as you gasp at the intrusion you begin to understand that he had actually done it on purpose: Biting down those claws himself because, it seems, he had been thinking about this.

The realization that it was for you leaves your entire body humming, and as your hips cant up to meet the slow, almost teasing thrusts, there’s only one word that swells and ripens in your mind, uncertain whether it’s your word or his even as it falls from your lips.

“More.”

A knowing glint flashes in his eyes at your soft plea, and almost immediately you feel a second finger slipping against you. Just teasing his fingertips at your entrance at first he lets your juices slick them before pressing into you, both fingers together nearly as thick as a human cock.

You moan as he continues to slide them in and out of you, and just as you begin to sink into the ache of it, you moan low in your throat when suddenly he’s adding a third.

The heady pressure of him working three fingers into your already stretched hole is overwhelming, and you’re unsure whether you want to throw yourself towards the sensation or resist it, your body arching into him, yet tensing and pulling away at the same time.

But then he’s pressing you down onto the table, his hand nearly spanning the width of your chest to hold you in place as his fingers continue nudging deeper.

“Where are you going, little one? Going to have to take it if you want my cock." 

As if to emphasize his words he drags his erection against the inside of your thigh with a grunted sigh, a fresh streak of precum adding to the mess that he’s already left on you.

Because of course you do, and he knows it, has known it since you stopped being able to look away from his hunched form as he fucked into his mechanical mate, a warm curiosity growing into a distracting need.

And you know that he could have taken you at any time, could have forced himself into you as soon as your clothes were a forgotten pile on the floor. But instead, he’s been preparing you to take him properly, making you come until the only thing you know is his mouth and his fingers and you’re soft and trembling and ravenous.

“God yes.” You spread your legs wide again, giving him an obscene view of where his fingers are sinking into you, slick sounds filling the room as they pump faster now.

“There you go.” He croons above you. “Made for this, hmm?" 

Any attempt at a response trails into a choked cry when he finds that soft, needy spot deep inside you, a fresh, pulsing heat spreading through your already exhausted body as he takes you apart once more. Still pinned beneath his hand you’re unable to do anything but allow it to wash through you, shaking and whimpering as he continues to drag firm, curling strokes against your clenching walls.

Leaning down Klaw presses his face into your heaving chest, and your nipples tighten and ache as he licks languorously between your breasts, his huffed breath is hot against your skin.

As your senses filter back in your hands slowly begin to move, exploring the corded muscles of his neck and shoulders, trembling fingers tugging and sliding through his hair, and then up and over his horns again.

Letting your eyes slip closed you take in the ridged curve of them, a velvety pleasure blooming in your chest when he inhales sharply, cock throbbing against your thigh when your fingers wrap around the base of them.

Finally pulling his fingers out of you he tugs you up, turning around and repositioning you so that you’re straddling his broad hips as best you can. Strong hands support you, encouraging you to slide your slick folds along his shaft, a giddy sort of panic stuttering in your chest at the sudden awareness of the size of him where he twitches between your thighs.

Desperate whines that may as well be prayers slide from your throat when he lifts you higher and you feel the thick, bulbous head of his cock nudging against your entrance, the only words falling from your lips a whispered litany of “Oh my god oh my god oh my god."

“I’m not your God, little one,” he growls softly, words distorted as if you're hearing them through a sediment of granite and blood. "But you will worship me."

“Yes. Yes..Oh fuck, please.” 

Beneath your lilting plea you dimly hear gritted curses and words of encouragement as you circle your hips, your arousal making a slick mess of his cock.

You can't help how eagerly your hips rock down, seeking more, so lost in the sensations that you're unprepared when a hard press of your hips matches his upward thrust, and the thick head of his cock suddenly ruts up into you, and when he slips past the tight ring of muscle the feral sound from deep in your chest nearly matches his.

Panting open mouthed you hold him there before rising up, slowly, slowly, letting him slip out of you before sinking down to take him back in. You feel weightless beneath the obsidian glint in his eyes as he watches you repeat the motion again, and again, his arms helping you move as you start to shake from the effort of riding just the head of his cock.

Even now there’s something warm and urgent drawing your hand lower, and you’re unable to help feeling pleased when his eyes go heavy as his gaze follows your fingers down to where they press against your clit.

“So..needy.” he rumbles. “Better than I imagined.”

“You..imagined?” You pant, attempting to sound coy, but your words are thick with lust as you continue to roll your hips, forcing yourself down further down his length. 

Your movements are becoming less controlled now, and when your fingers slip and brush against his shaft you whimper at how fucking big he feels where he's stretching you open, and how much of him is still outside of you.

You can feel every slick ridge and vein beneath your hand, and as you slide it along his length the muscles of his thighs tense and flex beneath you, his breathing going rough as your messy strokes continue.

“Look at you taking my cock,” Klaw grits, the demon’s hips beginning to stutter up in short, sharp thrusts. “Such a good little pet.” 

His words trail into a low growl that vibrates through your body as you feel a hard throb beneath your hand, and then heat.

You gasp, continuing to writhe as he spills into you, coating your inner walls with his thick seed, and almost you feel as though you could come again just from the heat of it.

Fuck, you need more of that.

Need it deeper.

Even as the pulsing beneath your fingers slows he doesn't stop moving, finally coming inside of you seeming only to have tipped his need to fevered desire. Holding you in place he thrusts up harder, dislodging your hand, and you can feel his spend leaking out of you, dripping down the insides of your thighs and slicking his still hard cock as he continues to drive deeper, no longer letting you set the pace. 

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He taunts, voice still a rough half-whisper after his orgasm. “Could feel it when you watched me. Wanted me to fill your little cunt, hmm?”

“Yes.” You let out a growled sob, jealous anger surging through you. ”That..thing, doesn’t fucking deserve it.”

A flame crackles in Klaw’s eyes at your heated words, and you wonder with a jolt of awareness whether he hasn’t been just as desperate for this as you have, longing for you as he remained trapped in the torment of a cold, unfeeling machine. Driven purely by instinct, chasing his release over and over again but never being truly satisfied.

The sudden realization that you could give that to him floods you with almost as much pleasure as the agony of being filled with his cock.

You’ve barely processed the thought when you suddenly find yourself with your back once again pressed against the cool metal of the table, Klaw only pulling out of you briefly before thrusting back in, harder.

He continues a slow, controlled rhythm, both of you panting hard as you feel yourself softening around him, becoming more pliant as your body relents to every stroke until with a final arching rock of his hips your cunt is completely stretched and full, everything so impossibly tight that you can’t even clench around him.

He's never felt anything quite like you, the achingly tight grip of your pussy leaving him nearly breathless as he holds himself as deep as he can, huffing and grunting like a bull while he watches you writhe and spasm beneath him.

Then he starts to fuck you.

He tries to keep his strokes firm and measured at first, but he can’t hold back anymore and it's not long before his chest is heaving, lips curled in a snarl, and it feels as though you're being split open as he pulls you back onto his cock in time to meet every thrust. 

A scarlet thread runs through every cell of your soft animal body, stringing tighter and tighter as pleasure builds to the edge of breaking but then surging higher, a fresh ecstasy building on every peak. 

The tightening grip around your waist signals the absolute loss of his control and when you hiss at the sudden piercing bite of his claws he moves his hands to brace on the table instead, his broad body forcing your legs back towards your shoulders as he leans down over you, driving his cock as deep as he can get into your willing heat until he’s grunting and drooling above you. 

A divine bliss slides through your veins as you lie beneath him, caught between the trammel of his arms, and as you watch his base instinct take over you begin to understand that only fools could believe that lust is a sin. 

And even if it was, even if you were offered perfect grace in this moment, you know with absolute certainty that you would refuse.

An infernal dam is finally swelling to breaking as you surrender to every relentless thrust of his cock, your wailed sobs the only sounds you can make as an impossible pressure ripples through your core, and with a deep throb you suddenly feel a drenching heat as your release washes over his cock and your thighs. 

“There you go.” Klaw growls. “Make a mess for me, little one.” 

This seems to be his final undoing, and as you continue to soak his cock his thrusting goes ragged until with rough groan he’s coming deep inside you, stilling himself to keep the head of his cock pressed against the deepest part of you, making sure that you feel every hot, throbbing pulse of his cum as it fills you.

Keeping himself seated deep he rocks slow grinding thrusts into the slippery mess he’s made of his you, the lust that’s had no real outlet finally finding satisfaction in the way your clenching cunt is milking his cock, in the gentle swell of your belly as he pumps you full of his seed.

You’re a sweaty, twitching mess beneath him, and as much as you wish you could you’re unable to take all of it, can’t help how it spills out around his cock where you’re stretched and sore, how his cum and yours drips down your swollen sex to pool beneath you on the table.

His hands don't stop moving over your body, cupping your breasts, grasping at you hips, sliding over the ripe swell of you where he can feel you filled with his cock and his cum. Vaguely aware of soft grunts mixed with mumbled praise, you don’t register what he’s saying at first through the haze of euphoria.

“Going to be mine.” he rumbles, between languorous strokes. ”My little queen.” 

“Mine.”

* * * * * * *

The room is warm and flickering, silken sheets decadent beneath your fingers, your body thrumming with a heated anticipation that never seems to fade, now.

Rough hands lift your hips as your demon mounts you from behind, a hand placed firmly between your shoulder blades, pressing you down into the mattress.

A panting whine slides from your throat as he spreads you open, the thick head of his cock prodding your entrance, pleased to see you’re still dripping with his seed from the last time he filled you. And he doesn’t like leaving you empty for very long.

“Say it again, little one.” Klaw growls softly, holding himself still. Waiting.

“Yours.” 

You sigh, a smile curling around the word as he pushes into you.

“I’m yours.”

A/N: As ever, thank you for reading! This was definitely a bit outside my comfort zone, but I hope you enjoyed this filthy little foray into monster fuckery. 😊

[mumms-the-word]

May prompts: I need borrowed clothing involving either ardynn/halsin or freyr/minthara

I was going to say “bold of you to assume Freyr can fit into Minthara’s clothes” and then I was like “oh wait” not that Halsin can fit in Ardynn’s clothes either but that’s what my brain gave my first lol

Ugh both are so good how am I supposed to CHOOSE? that’s a rhetorical question I know exactly what I’m gonna do

Edit: Also I’ve been informed that this event is meant to be written about other people’s Tavs and Durges but for the purposes of this request I'm just going to respond with a normal little fic!

But because I appreciate YOU I'm including some of your awesome photos of Ardynn in this :>

Story under the cut!! Warning, it is super silly.

~*~*~

Ardynn and Halsin had finally settled into their new home in the Reclaimed Lands, making a home out of a haphazard cabin that was formerly the ruins of a farmstead. To say that Ardynn loved her new life here was an understatement. She and Halsin had worked together to patch up the walls of the cabin, using a combination of old boards and climbing vines, mortal ingenuity and natural solutions. Thaniel had helped raise the collapsed roof of one room by growing a tree inside the structure, allowing dappled sunlight to stream in through the branches of the tree and the hole in the ceiling. Their home was a living home, built up and bending around a healthy tree and its roots, with flowering vines creeping up the sides and sunlight streaming in through the windows and roof. It was everything she dreamed it could be.

On this day, Ardynn was continuing to work on their home, arranging furniture and organizing their few (but growing) personal possessions. Halsin was out with the children, ambling about as a bear to give them rides on his back and play with them, and she didn't expect him back for some time. She sat cross-legged on the floor, folding away her clothes and his, thinking idly to herself that they would have to obtain warmer clothes for the winter.

After a moment, she picked up Halsin's leather and green fabric shirt, running her thumb over the patterns carved into the leather. He had taken the Emerald Grove emblem from the front a few days ago, so the front looked almost...empty. She wondered if there was something she could replace it with.

As she was examining the shirt, she noticed other markings she'd never noticed before. Pressed into the leather, near the collar, were little magic symbols, runes that were somehow familiar. After a moment of studying them, she realized they made up an enchantment to disappear or morph the shirt during his wildshapes, so that when he turned into a bear, or perhaps something even larger, or even stopped wildshaping halfway through to become a kind of hybrid man, the shirt wouldn't just rip into shreds.

She wondered...

She glanced over her shoulder, as if he might be walking into the door at any moment, and then stood up. She pulled off her own shirt and then hesitated, standing in nothing but her trousers, feeling silly all of a sudden. But the curiosity was greater, and she pulled Halsin's shirt easily over her head.

For a moment, it was comically large on her, the armholes alone big enough to fit several arms of her size instead of one. But then, just as she suspected, the shirt shrank down, fitting itself to her body until it pressed against her breasts and ribs. A perfect fit.

She moved to stand in front of a dingy-looking glass they had recovered from some wreckage a few days ago, turning this way and that. She had to admit, she looked pretty good with Halsin's shirt hugging her body. Add a few leather arm straps and maybe...

In the looking glass, she saw movement near the open front door and whirled just in time to see Halsin ducking into their home. She froze and then he froze, staring at her with eyes wide with surprise.

She didn't know what to say, and she could feel her face getting as red as her hair. This had to be the most embarrassing thing she'd ever done in front of him, bar none. But she couldn't move or unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

He blinked once, twice, and then lifted a hand as if going to gesture to her. "My heart. Is that..."

"I can explain," she blurted out, and that just made things worse because no, she couldn't actually explain. She wasn't just wearing his shirt, she was wearing his shirt that was now shrunk down and shaped as if it was tailor-made to her body.

Halsin closed the door behind him--something they rarely did except when they didn't want to be disturbed--and took a few slow steps forward. He stopped just a foot away, looking down at her. She held her breath as his eyes roved over her form, following the patterns on the leather and fabric as they curved over and around her body.

"It suits you," he said quietly. Huskily. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized that the look in his eyes was no longer confusion or surprise but...hunger. He reached up and skimmed his fingertips along her side, causing her to shiver. "In fact, I think you wear it better than I do."

She swallowed, trying to keep track of her thoughts. "I was just...I saw the enchantment runes and I..."

He didn't seem to hear her. He smoothed his hand down her arm, seemingly distracted by her. "I am tempted to let you keep it. But, I fear, it would become a distraction."

"A distraction?" she breathed.

A faint smile graced his lips and he leaned in, bringing his lips down close to her ear. "I shall be unable to think of anything but you in my clothing, my heart. Even now, it is difficult to focus."

Her heart began to race in her chest. As he pulled away to look down at her, she met him gaze for gaze and found herself torn between wanting to diffuse the situation (it was the middle of the day) and wanting to tempt him further.

Her baser nature won, in the end.

She tilted her head, trailing her fingers along the bottom hem of the shirt. "Should I...take it off?"

She felt a little proud of the way his eyes followed her fingers, only to glance back to up to meet hers, hazel eyes already faintly glowing with a thin ring of gold.

"Yes."

~*~*~

More pictures to cool everyone off 🥰

[infinite8revisions]

Okay..I apologize to Kagaya Ubuyashiki...FOR NOW!

Spoilers for Demon Slayer: Hashira Training.

Up until the season finally of Hashira training I was giving Ubuyashki a HARD side eye. Maybe its from reading too many books or watching too many series/movies, but I found him severely suspicious!

Now that I'm thinking about it, I can pinpoint exactly when I got suspicious of him. Episode 8 of Swordsmith Village to be exact, when we learn about Yuichiro and Muichiro.

I felt the same as Yuichiro.

Exactly that! Like, their parents died and here comes this lady out of nowhere talking about swords and demons. She gets turned away then comes back several more times with no success (Yurichiro even throws water at her during one visit). Then magically a demon shows up and I'm supposed to believe that's a coinkidink?

Now, I argued with myself that, as the daughter of a priest (which she is insinuated to being by Ubuyashiki in the final episode of Hashira Training), perhaps she could sense their power, and of course, with Ubuyashiki devoting his entire life to taking down Muzan, he would have been studying past swordsmen which would lead him to finding their decedents. HOWEVER, it was all a little too clean. Not to mention this-

Why Amane? Because you're a good person? Or because yo hubby said he wanted them!? Hmmmm?!?! Prolly both.

It also REALLY didn't help that I was watching "The Umbrella Academy" around the same time. I couldn't help but compare Hargreeves to Ubuyashiki.

Not personality-wise, but collecting powerful children to fight for their cause-wise. I still feel like that demon was sent after the boys. Why? To awaken something in them (not unlike Hargreeves "killing" Klaus to bring out his resurrection powers) and "persuade" them to take up swordsmanship. I don't think they intended for one of them to die, but I'm sure they were relieved that it was Yuichiro over Murichiro.

Another reason for my suspicion was Ubuyashiki being related to Muzan. I knew he was against Muzan, but the familial relation and his illness made me wonder. Especially since it seems like Muzan's illness was one of the main factors in him becoming the demon he is.

Going back to Amane for a sec, I started to wonder if she was "human" and what exactly a "human" is in this world. Her eyes are uncanny. I mean most of the characters have very stylized eyes, but in comparison, Amane and her children seem very ethereal. The hair color doesn't help. Yes, I know this is an anime, but a lot of times white hair is a signal of spiritual strenth or unhuman...ness.

Because of that I wonder if Amane and the 2 daughters actually died in the explosion. I really don't think they did. I don't really think that Ubuyashiki did either. I mean his body probably did, but I wouldn't be surprised if they found a way to transfer his spirit/soul somehow. I'm still not sure how the Demon Slayer world works tbh. In terms of powers vs. regular humans vs. demons. I've often wondered if some of the demon slayers are even "human" themselves.

It seems that "breathing" techniques are not something just anyone can learn, so those who can must be born different somehow. Can you "pick" your breathing style or is that also inherited? The demon slayer marks make me wonder even more. Then we have Genya...who is just a giant curveball! Bro is out here eating demons! Even so, the fact that he could be torn apart like that then regenerate and live raises more questions than it answers about magic, humanity, and the supernatural in this world.

Anyway, This didn't sound much like an apology and the more I write the more I still remain suspicious of Ubuyashiki and Amane. I'm just not suspicious of them being malicious I guess. I definitely apologize for thinking of him like Hargreeves (or even Dumbledore). Although, like them, he does sometimes use traumatized youth to fight his battles. lol!

[lilysdaydreams]

Praise Bingus (No fucking way)

→  I do not claim to know corpse- therefore please don't think that this is what he would actually act like, or that any details about his life are actually true. this is fiction.

→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader

→ Genre: Angst and fluff. (FLUFF IS COMING I SWEAR)

→ Words: 3.9k

→ In a world where everyone is born with a mark on their wrist, two souls come together over the power of bingus.

→ (this isnt crack lol)

→ Warnings: Lots of swearing, um self-depreciation? rejection (kinda) and negative thoughts overall. Sorry im new to warnings.

→ Authors Note: this is the first time im doing like angst so please tell me if I did well? Um also, I’ve already started on the part 2 so keep your eyes out for that. If you wanna be tagged for part two please comment and lemme know. Also check out my other fics if you want!

→ Buy me a coffee

Part two  →    

~~~

Soulmates were a phenomenon. They'd been there for ages, drawn into the Egyptian tomb paintings, seen in the cave paintings from millions of years ago, talked about in stories passed down from generation to generation. They could be matching drawings, first words, names; all black before the soulmates met and turning gold the moment they talked to each other. There wasn't a scientist in the world who could explain the phenomenon.

You'd received your mark at birth just like everyone else, a sentence running around your wrist,

"No fucking way."

Your parents weren't that happy when you asked at the age of 4 what "fucking" meant but it wasn't that bad. You were happy that you had something unique, something other than the "Hi," or "Excuse me," that was on every other arm.

When you were 13, a little girl on the train pointed to your wrist and asked her mom what it meant. Ever since then, you'd taken to wearing bracelets over it. This had turned out to be a good idea because a few years later you started making Youtube videos. At the age of 16, you started a Youtube channel where you focused on a variety of things; makeup, fashion, games, art, skits and a whole lot more.

At the age of 20, you had a steady following of a little more than a million subscribers, and you had moved to LA to be closer to all your Youtube friends. You hadn't just grown on Youtube, you'd also started a lot of side projects. You were known for the art that you did on the side, along with the makeup palette you'd come out with a year ago. Soon you were planning to release a merch collection, one that you had been working on for a whole year now.

You hadn't met your soulmate at this point but honestly, you didn't really mind. Balancing Youtube and study (along with all your other side projects) was hard. There was no need to add the struggle of love into it... Or that's what you told yourself anyways.

There were days though, days where you wished you had someone to hug, someone to cuddle in bed with, someone to go on long walks with. You didn't let yourself wallow on it that long though. Crying about it was gonna do absolutely nothing.

It started on a rainy day. The story of you and him. You were editing your soon to be uploaded video, an e-girl outfits lookbook, which had been requested by your followers. Your personal style was all over the place and your previous soft girl and cottage care look books had done well, so you decided to continue the series.

You eyes blurred as you looked at the same point of the video, and you sighed, removing your glasses and rubbing your eyes. Your editor was sick and had let you know that they wouldn't be able to edit it by the deadline so here you were, editing it yourself. You stretched in your chair letting out a yawn. You were contemplating on whether to make coffee or not when your phone pinged.

"Nooooo" you whined when you noticed it was on the coffee table that was just a little out of your reach. Stretching your foot out, you tried to grab it between your toes and then sighed when the phone fell.

"I have zero luck, I swear" you muttered to yourself, bending to pick up the phone.

The text was from Rae, asking you to join a game of Among Us. You and Rae had been friends for a bit now, which all started when she came across your art and decided to order something from you. You had chatted and clicked immediately, immediately becoming fast friends. Ever since the lockdown started, she often asked you to join in on Among us games and your friendship had really grown over these past few months.

You sent a quick "sure!" and then went to your table, waiting for the PC to turn on. Quickly tweeting out that you were streaming, you opened up Youtube and turned on the stream, saying a quick hello and letting them know what you'd be doing.

"Rae just invited me guys, I don't really know who's there," you mumbled, replying to a comment asking you who you were playing with.

You squinted your eyes, joining the voice chat and then opening your phone camera to quickly check that you didn't look horrible. Sure you didn't really care about how you looked but it was always good to check that you didn't have anything stuck between your teeth before you turned on the camera.

There was already a conversation going on, between who you thought was Corpse and Sykkuno, judging by their voices.

"Yeah I could totally do that. Get a cat and name it Bingus. I wonder if th-"

You gasped when you heard what they were talking about and unmuted yourself immediately yelling "PRAISE LORD BINGUS" and effectively shocking everyone in the chat.

A moment of silence and then Rae yelled: "OH MY FUCKING GOD Y/N, YOU SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME."

You giggled as everyone groaned and whined, saying hi as they realised who it was. You had played with Sykkuno and the others a few times before but you'd never met Corpse before. You'd heard his voice though, as he was trending on twitter constantly over the past few weeks. Once they all quietened down, you realised Corpse hadn't said anything. Since you knew everyone else in the lobby, you introduced yourself, wondering if you'd scared him a bit too hard.

"Hey Corpse, I'm Y/N from Y/C/N, its so nice to finally meet you," you said gritting your teeth at you awkward introduction. For a second there was no response and then three words were said that made your jaw drop to the floor.

"No fucking way"

He had whispered it, obviously still in shock, and your eyes widened in surprise as a tingle spread all over your body. So this was what everyone meant by "you'll just know," when you asked them about how you would recognize your soulmate.

"Holy shit" you thought frozen in your seat.

Never had you been more glad that you hadn't turned the camera on yet.

"Uhhhh-" you started, but stopped now knowing what to say.

What the fuck were you supposed to do now.

"Wha- Whats wrong?" Rae asked after a moment passed.

Corpse cleared his throat and started "Its um, shes my -" and you cut him off, heart beating in your chest.

"Nothing. Its nothing." you said talking over him. "Who else are we waiting for Rae?" you asked joining the lobby quickly and choosing red as your colour.

"Uh one more person," she said slowly, still a bit confused.

"Oh awesome!" you said fake enthusiasm prevalent in your voice. "So Sykkuno," you started, wanting to keep the conversation going. "How's Bimbus doing?"

Sykkuno launched into a story of Bimbus and you blew out a sigh of relief, mind still numb over the revelation.

Corpse was your soulmate.

The guy who had literally went viral the past few weeks was your soulmate.

You'd finally found him.

You heard Rae cut Sykkuno off, telling everyone she was starting the game and muttered a "Thank god" when the words "CREWMATE" appeared on your screen. You would not have been able to play imposter at the moment, your mind pretty much stuck on the fact that Corpse was your fucking soulmate.

Heading down to admin, you realised you hadn't said anything yet to the stream so you quickly turned on your cam, saying a quick sorry to the viewers.

"Sorry guys, I forgot to put the camera on," you smiled focusing on card swipe.

"I hope everyone's been okay, I know this was quite sudden, but Rae invited me and I was like why not you know," you said rambling as you moved to comms and did the task there.

Lights were called and you moved to electrical, arriving there just as Leslie fixed them. You moved into the back of electrical doing the three tasks you had there when Sykkuno suddenly came in and went straight to standing on top of the vent.

You giggled already knowing his trick.

"Okay guys," you mumbled watching Sykkuno wiggle on the vent. "do we trust Sykkuno or not?"

"You know what," you said making a split second decision. "Its the first game, we might as well."

Joining him on the vent, you stilled for a second and then breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't automatically kill you.

"See, what did I tell you guys huh?" you question smiling straight at the camera. "I knew Sykkuno could be trusted."

You decided to follow Sykkuno going into reactor with him and starting 'Simon says' and just as you were on the last part, a body was found making you let a whine out.

"Guysss," you whined to the camera as Rae started talking about how she had found Daves body in admin.

"Um, I havent been in admin since the start of the game," you said, "also I can clear Sykkuno, for the last part of the round, he's been with me since lights went out."

Sykkuno confirmed it, "Yup that's right, also I can hard clear Y/N cuz guess what? She stood on the vent with me and none of us died."

Everyone chuckled as he said "Thats good enough for me."

"Uh, I was in navigation mostly." said Lily.

"Poki, can I just ask what you were doing?" said Sean, an undercurrent of mirth present.

"Me?" asked Poki speaking for the first time. "What was I doing?"

"You weren't doing any tasks, you were literally just walking from one side of medbay to the other when I peeked in."

Poki started laughing, trying to get her words out at the same time.

"Okay so-" a giggle. "okay okay- I was just, I was trying to um do the beep test," she said finally breaking down and making everyone else laugh as well.

"What the fuck?" you said, laughing at the image in your mind.

"My chat told me to do it last game so I decided to do it now, I was literally just playing around," she said finally, adding "I swear I'm not imposter" at the end.

"Hmmm," you hummed, bringing a hand up to stroke your chin. "Are you sure it was last game Poki... hm...."

Giggling at Poki indignant "YES it was last game", you quickly skipped voting like everyone else as the timer went into the last ten seconds.

Humming a tune under your breath, you went back to reactor, taking a minute to carefully do Simon says and then moved to the other task counting out one two three as you pressed on the numbers. Humming, you moved out of reactor, only to come face to face with Corpse. You paused for a second, and then moved ahead, refusing to show anything on camera. For some reason he followed you as you went to storage, looking at you while you did the trash.

"Why is he just staring?" you mumbled, biting your lip. God, you really didn't wanna think of him right now. You started walking to shields, him still walking with you when lights were called and not a second later a body was reported.

Suddenly there was screaming your ears as Toast and Rae both started accusing each other.

"Wait- Wait WAIT" yelled Poki trying to get them to stop. "What happened?"

"I'll explain" declared Rae, not letting toast get a word in. "We were in navigation okay, me, Toast and Leslie. Lights went out, and suddenly a report buttons there. It's either Toast or someone came in just as lights went out and killed but that doesn't seem likely because I didn't see anyone anywhere near us at all. Anyways I'm fucking telling the truth guys, its Toast, he's the one who did it."

"Toast, do you have anything to say for yourself?" asked Corpse, his voice making your insides shiver.

"Holy shit, this is my soulmate", you thought for the fiftieth time.

"Uh yeah," replied toast. "I didn't do it."

Everyone laughed as he continued.

"Like seriously, I wouldn't do anything like this because it'd be a stupid move from my own part, and I think Raes smart enough to not do this as well. I think someone else came in just as lights went down and killed immediately, which to be honest, was pretty smart of them."

"Okay so I can clear Corpse," you cut in noticing the timer was close. "he was with me in weapons when it happened, he wouldn't have had time to go all the way up, or even vent there because we were literally walking in."

"Yup that's right," confirmed corpse.

"I'm in cafeteria" said Poki.

"Yeah, I saw her on my way to weapons," said Sykkuno, "and I'm in weapons right now,"

"I'm in lower engine" said Sean, and Lily said she was in reactor.

"I think it's Toast," you mumbled and then rose your voice to talk over everyone. "Look okay fine, maybe he said it was a stupid move and he wouldn't do it but maybe he did it for that exact reason. He thought he could get away with it because no one would expect him to do something like that."

As the timer started going down by 10, you voted for Toast and it turned out 3 had skipped the vote while five had voted for him.

damn.

"Guys you actually voted for him?" you said in a high voice, re-enacting one of Sykkunos most said lines.

You heard a "oh for gods sake" from Rae before everyone went silent and you giggled as you moved back down to weapons to do your tasks.

You finished all your tasks and decided to go to security to check where everyone is. Humming as you moved through the electrical hallway, you narrowed your eyes as Corpse came out of electrical and went towards storage. Quickly ducking in you didn't see a body so you headed back out, going into cams and gasping as you saw the body. Reporting immediately you were shocked to see the four kills that had happened. Now only you, Corpse, Sean and Rae were left.

"Oh my god," you mumbled confused. Either there were still two imposters, and Toast wasn't the imposter or the imposter literally killed and did nothing else. Now either that could mean that its definitely Rae if Toast wasn't the imposter, or that it was Corpse as the only imposter left. That was a bit weird though becuase he could have totally killed you at the start of the game. You didn't suspect Sean at all.

"What the fuck?" mumbled Corpse, and Rae made her animal noises expressing her shock.

"Okay," you said taking charge and relaying the kill and your theory to everyone. "So either it was Toast and there's only one other imposter, who is Corpse. Or Toast wasn't an imposter and there's two of them left. I-" you took a deep breath in at the end, very confused. " I don't know anymore,"

"I think its Corpse as well,"

Corpse who hadn't said anything up till this moment suddenly started stammering out "hey-hey uh let-lets not gang up on me okay. It's not-"

"No, wait, its because Y/N said you came out of electrical right, and I saw you in upper engine literally a bit ago and you went down. I went towards cafeteria so I don't know exactly where you went but its totally possible that you killed."

You voted form him after that, convinced it was Corpse, and the other followed quickly.

"Guys what the fuck, at least give me a chance to explain my self" he whined when his body was thrown off the ship seconds later. You cheered when the "VICTORY" sign was displayed across the screen, bringing up your chat and laughing at Toast as he pretended to be angry at me.

"That was a great round, good work Y/N"

"Thankyou" you mumbled staring at your chat. You were confused when you saw the absolute influx of messages on there, and you were barely able to read them because they were going so fast. You scrolled up, and read through the few of the messages;

"You've made corpse sad."

"Corpse has literally been so quite since you came in, can you leave."

"Omg stop with the hate messages, its not her fault if corpse isn't talking to you"

"are you his ex or something? What was that reaction at the start?"

"what did you do? Corpse literally hasn't said a word since you came in."

"Um..."

Corpse POV

Corpses heart stopped for a minute, his breath catching. The words on his wrist glowed gold, and he stared at the little red character standing there.

This person was the reason that he had "PRAISE BINGUS" stretched across his wrist.

They were the only reason that he had searched "Bingus" on google for all of his life. The only reason Corpse knew about the meme before anyone else was because he was constantly monitoring the word online. Ever since March, he had been waiting with bated breath, anxious that he could meet his soulmate at any moment. and here you were.

For some reason, he had never expected that he would meet you in among us, or while he was on stream. He always thought it'd be someone outside. It was a bit stupid in hindsight as all he did nowadays was play among us.

He heard you introduce yourself to him but the only thing that came out of his mouth was “No fucking way”.

Immediately after he wanted to slap himself.

“Idiot” he thought to himself. “At least try to make a good impression.”

When Rae asked what was wrong, heat sprung to his cheeks as he started revealing that they were soulmates, but Y/N cut him off, saying that it was nothing.

Corpse’s heart sank a little then.

'Maybe she’s just a private person,' he reasoned with himself.

'I shouldn’t have tried to say it on stream either. God, I’m a fucking idiot, if I said it, literally everyone would know and not only would I have hated the attention, she probabaly would have as well.'

Convincing himself that she was right, he reassured himself that it wasn’t because of him. She wasn’t revealing it because she probably didn't want all the attention.

For some reason though, his heart sank even more when Y/N didnt talk to him, instead talking to sykkuno about his dog. Like sure he could understand not wanting to reveal they were soulmates but shouldn’t she at least wanna talk to him? At this point he wouldn’t even mind if she talked about his voice like everyone else.

He groaned when the word "Imposter" came across his screen, his and Toasts character standing together. He was not in the right mindset right now to be able to be a good imposter. Breathing in deeply he continued in the game, with the first round passing by quick. The second round, he saw Y/N and stood with her for a bit wondering if he should kill her. Her red character moved to weapons and he sighed moving the mouse over the kill button. Just as he was thinking of clicking a body was found. Corpse swore as Toast flew off the ship. Deciding he needed to speed it up he killed four people in the round, hissing when the meeting was called. The moment Y/N accused him, he knew it was over. He didn't even bother defending himself much, just hoping the game would end soon.

When they were in the lobby, he quickly told everyone that he was going to leave because his internet was acting up. Turning off the stream after saying a quick thank you to everyone, he leaned back in his seat breathing through his nose.

What the fuck was his life.

Even his soulmate didnt want him. Honestly, he should have expected this. Abandoned at 12 with no one around him, why did his expect his soulmate to even give a fuck about him. Tears pricked his eyes and he blinked trying to get rid of them. He breathed in deeply, grabbing the water on the table and taking a big gulp. He had never hated himself more than he did right now. Why couldnt he have an easier life.

“Why cant I just fucking be NORMAL” he yelled throwing the empty bottle of water at the wall.

Throwing himself into bed, he scrunched up his eyes, hoping that sleep would come today, not noticing as his phone lit up with a single message.

Your POV

You stayed for another game and then ducked out apologizing and making an excuse up.

"Sorry it was such a short stream, everyone," you said pouting at the camera. "It was fun though so hopefully I get to do it again." Waving goodbye, you turned off the camera and leaned your head back staring at the ceiling.

What the actual fuck.

Grabbing your phone, you stared at it for a bit. Everything that you had pushed to the back of your mind in the game, was suddenly in the forefront.

The only thing you knew about Corpse was that he had a really deep voice, he narrated horror movies, and he maybe did music?

'Rae mentioned that once right?' you thought to yourself.

You unlocked the phone and then locked it again, too scared to actually do anything.

Unlocked.

Locked.

Unlocked.

Locked.

"Oh get a grip," you muttered to yourself, opening the phone and sending a text to Rae.

‘Hey Rae, do you have corpses number? Do you mind sending it to me, I need to tell him something.’

A reply came in a minute,

‘umm, why. he's pretty private so idk i don't rlly wanna give his number if he doesn't want someone to have it’

You sighed, and decided you might as well tell her. You knew Rae wouldn't betray your trust.

‘He's my soulmate’

Immediately a ‘AHDJHAKJKAGDAK’ came as a reply and you giggled at the string of emojis after it.

‘Don't tell anyone,’ you sent quickly, trying to calm her down.

‘Okay okay, its XXX - XXX - XXXX, ASHAGDH IM DYING OMG. GO TALK TO HIM.’

Biting your lip you added Corpse into your contacts hesitating before putting a small black heart next to his name.

"Already simping," you mumbled under your breath, hands hovering over the keyboard as you struggled to think of what to write.

You finally decided on 'Hey, its Y/N, can I call?' thinking that something short would be the best way to go. Hand hovering over the send button, you sucked in a breath and pressed it, waiting with bated breath.

A minute passed.

And then five.

And then, without you even you realising, it'd been half an hour of you just looking at your phone.

An hour later, you were slumped on your desk, eyes closed and snoring lightly, the phone still open, the message you sent lighting up the screen.

tbc.

[cupidstwin333]

Hii! Could I plz have a romantic matchup for obey me (and mha if its not a lot ofc)

I have slightly over shoulder length, straight black hair and dark brown eyes. My face is oval shaped. I have tanned medium brown skin. I am around 5'6 and my weight is around 49kg. I have hereditary stretch marks and bruises on my leg. My hair is generally put up in an extremely messy bun or ponytail. My age is around 13-15

I'm normally rlly shy and closed off around strangers. I'm generally secretive around ppl I dont trust. But I am also trustworthy, smart (by my standards lol) and I make an effort to be social. I'd like to say I'm nice to ppl, but thats mostly just ppl I dont rlly know. I am extremely chaotic and loud around ppl I trust and am close to. I am extremely insecure about my body and just myself in general. Im also somewhat sensitive and a hopeless romantic (and a huge simp but anyway)

I'm an intp aquarius. I love cats, reading, listening to music, art and sleeping longer than 6hrs if that counts. I dont like being woken up for no reason except 'oh u have to study,' spiders (especially images), slow music, and jumpscares

Thank you in advance <33

after a long time of thinking 💭 your match is...

Beelzebub

Background:

You just finished you’re painting with a lot of effort. You were supposed to hand it in tomorrow in art class. You were exhausted, but it didn’t matter since you were very satisfied with your work, and you actually enjoyed doing it. Suddenly Mammon stormed in and rushed over to your bed to hide under it, but he failed miserably because Beel caught up with him and started to strangle him. “I know it’s you! You stole my custard, I can smell it on you.” Beel said in an angry tone, you felt very uneasy and mad at the same time. You just wanted to rest, but they had to interrupt that. Finally, Lucifer came in and dragged Mammon away. Beel and you were alone in your room now, you could hear his stomach growling “I am so hungry.” He said with a pout, he looked around your room while you sat on your bed frozen by a mixture of fear and anxiety. His eyes landed on your painting, it was a portrait of a fruit bowl. His eyes lit up and before you could do anything he ate it in 2 bites “Ugh…this is gross!” Beelzebub exclaimed and you felt the tears burning in your eyes. All your effort was wasted, you hated him! He walked out of your room and you were left alone after all the damage was done. You didn’t come out of your room for dinner that evening and when the next day arrived you told Lucifer you were sick. And he somehow believed it or he just didn’t care, you remade your portrait since you’d be graded for it. After you finished it and hid it somewhere safe, you walked to the kitchen to grab a snack and put your headphones on the counter, you opened the fridge and grabbed something quick. When you turned around, you saw that your headphone was broken in half and there were teeth marks all over it and they… were slimy. You looked up and saw Beelzebub chewing, did he just eat your headphones?! This time he wasn't going to get away with this you thought. "Why did you do that?! You big airhead, all you do is eat!” You yell out in frustration.

How it started:

You walked around the library. You were looking for a new book preferably a romantic one. You already read so many novels, and you knew all the popular Devildom authors. You found a new book, it just came out! You knew the author and read all their previous work. You cried so much while reading their first book...what was it called "Arbitrary" you said in a whisper tone, it was a tragic love story. It was about a young demon woman who fell in love with a human man because he had something she could never have and that was a fair chance. Because she was a demon and she was supposed to be evil. She was going to hell no matter how she changed, everything was in vain. So she decides to corrupt the human, but in the end, he sacrifices himself for her and makes a wish that lets them swap races. He goes to hell as a demon and she lives on as a human. You felt a bittersweet sensation, but snapped out of it you had your book and went to the demon lord's castle since Lucifer texted you to get there as soon as possible and you didn't want to get scolded or worse...punished. You put the book in your bag and went to the castle. After you had tea and chatted with Asmodeus, there was a bright flash and the next thing you knew you were in a victorian dress sitting on a throne, you saw Lucifer, Asmodeus, and Belphegor in their demon form but they looked different and they were talking to you about how you needed to embrace your inner evil. The way they were dressed reminded you of the outfit description in Arbitrary. But that thought got confirmed by one sentence "Dear Amalthea, you will be sent to hell anyways so you might as well make it count." Amalthea was the main character, someone must've opened your book, it was a limited edition with all the famous works of the author where the fans could reenact it. But it played upon the person's feelings which meant that whoever played the male lead had the hots for you. You got curious, so you decided to play along with it all and besides you knew the whole plot by heart. You traveled to the human world and that is when you saw who the male lead was, it was Beelzebub! Oh no, you thought to yourself he always ruined everything. His eyes lit up when they met yours "Y/n I'm so glad to see you! I don't know what happened. I got hungry and opened a book and now I am here and these humans keep calling me Benjamin." "Calm down, we entered the book you opened!" you said in a sharp tone. "We have to finish the story, or at least that is what I am guessing." You explained what Beel had to do, and seeing him so lost made him look so vulnerable. You felt yourself smiling at that sight...no! You thought to yourself not now! You waited for his response and he nodded. You may or may not have sped up the process by cheating a tiny bit. All he had to do was make the wish and you had to push him off the cliff. That wouldn't be so difficult! You returned to the demon world and had an amazing dinner. The next day you saw Beel again and he informed you of what he did. You two were walking and you hadn't paid attention to your step and tripped. He caught you and had a worried expression. You felt your cheeks heating up. “Thank you.” You said in a shy manner, you offered to pay for lunch and Beel agreed over lunch you explained that you had to push him off a cliff and he told you he didn’t mind, “I am sorry Y/n, I always seem to upset you without it even being my intention. So I’ll do anything I can to make it up to you and if it mean dying in this story I will.” You didn’t know how to respond to that, the way he said it. He sounded so genuine. The day finally came and Benjamin was a demon and Amalthea a human. He was supposed to go to hell and she would live her life as a human. But before that you had to push him off the cliff into the ocean but you couldn’t. You spent the previous 3 week with him and you realized that he wasn’t a bad person he was just incredibly dense and indeed an airhead, but you grew to like that about him.

You walked up to him, before you pushed him you looked at him and said “ I am sorry Beelzebub, but I have to push you off only then can we go back to Devildom.” “I do this to prove my love to you and for your forgiveness.” He responded in a steady voice, your heart skipped a beat and you pretended you didn’t hear the first part “I already forgive you Beel.” You said barely above a whisper. “When all this is over, let’s go to an all-you-can-eat buffet my treat.” He said with rosy cheeks you came closer and pecked his cheek and pushed him off. The next thing the bright flash came back and all of you where sitting in the Lord Diavolo’s living room. Before you could do anything Beelzebub hugs you tightly, and you hugged him back. “When you pushed me I fell in love, so go out with me.”

General headcanon:

💘 You always support him during his (sport) matches

💘 Beelzebub would save foods that he really loves just so you can taste them too

💘 Beelzebub will follow you around like a lost puppy

💘 Beelzebub would give you princess treatment because he thinks that’s what you deserve

Other possible matches: Asmodeus and Solomon

And Izuku Midoriya

Background:

You are a 1A student. You obviously worked hard to get into UA High as the acceptance rate is very low. But recently you’ve been feeling a little insecure and unsure about all of this. Even though your classmates are all amazing and mostly nice, you haven’t made any real friends yet and you feel like no one likes you. But you decided to just wait for another few weeks, maybe it just takes some time before someone will warm up to you. It was lunchtime and you were once again sitting alone everyone seemed to have formed their own small friend groups already, and you didn’t like it. You felt like the odd one out, and you could swear that you’d made a good first impression on them. You tried to be as nice as possible to everyone. What were you doing wrong? You tap your foot against the floor, a habit you developed whenever you were overthinking. “Hey, your name is Y/n right?” You snap out of your thoughts as you hear a rather soft voice speak to you. You look up and you’re met with two green eyes. “Uh yeah.” You answer with an awkward smile, you recognize him, he was the boy that kept breaking his bones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya and I noticed you were sitting alone.” He continues. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asks with a heart-melting smile. “No of course you can sit here.” You reply welcoming. “So how do you like it here in UA?” He asks you. Your smile drops slightly, but you quickly pull yourself together. “UA is amazing, isn’t it crazy how all might is teaching us.” You say avoiding eye contact. Suddenly Midoriya gets all excited. “Are you also an All might fan?” Before you could answer his question he keeps rambling on about how amazing All might is and he suddenly takes out a burnt notebook from his bag. “Look- I haven’t shown anyone this yet, but all might signed my notebook after saving my life!” He says with a proud smile. “Wow, that’s so cool.” You say in awe. “What’s this notebook for?” You ask him wondering why it was all burnt and damaged like that. “Did it get like this when All might saved you?” You say touching the burnt pages. You notice that Midoriya isn’t responding and you look at him. He has a sad look on his face but tries to give you a smile. “No this is from something else…” he mumbles embarrassed. “Did something happen?” You ask concerned. He lets out a sigh. “I used to kind of get bullied in middle school, but I’m fine now.” He says the last part with a reassuring smile on his face. You would’ve never guessed. Why would anyone try to bully a sweet tender-hearted guy that was aspiring to be a hero? It made no sense to you. “You know Midoriya, we should be friends!” He looks at you with big eyes. After he told you all that? You still wanted to become friends? You didn’t think he was a loser? “Sure Y/n, I’d love to be your friend.”

How it started:

It had been months since you and Deku became friends. A lot has happened after that. Multiple villains encounters at UA with wounded students and teachers, Bakugo was kidnapped, All might got retired, the students had to move to dorms, you managed to become close friends with some of the other students and Deku told you all about his past where Bakugo would bully him(of course leaving the fact out that he was quirk less). You hated Bakugo after that, how could he even show his face to Midoriya after saying such awful things, and he never apologized. Bakugo of course noticed quickly that you were holding a grudge against him but he didn’t quite know why. You weren’t going to let him know either because you knew that you had nothing to do with it and Midoriya had already forgiven so as the good friend you are you could only hate Bakugo from afar and respect your friend's boundaries. You were sitting in Midoriya’s room bopping your head to some music as you were finishing your English assignment. You suddenly feel a hand tap your shoulder as you take off your headphones. “Izuku, you’re back!” You say with a smile. You have been waiting for him for over thirty minutes now and decided to finish your assignment in the meantime. “I was training I didn’t know you were waiting here for me.” He says with a dumbfounded look. It was then that you started to notice the sweat drops rolling down his face, his red cheeks, and the way his chest was going up and down at a quick pace trying to catch his breath. He looked different to you. He used to look much more fragile and soft. Now he looks a lot more buff and way more confidence. You like how he looks now. It was amusing to see how much he changed over the course of a few months. “Do you want me to leave? You look like you need to rest.” You say as you grab your stuff ready to leave. Izuku grabs a hold of your arm. “No really it’s fine you just caught me by surprise.” He lets go of your arm. “Why did you come in the first place?” He asks as he takes a towel from his closet dabbing the sweat away. “I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch with me?” It was only 2 PM and you’d been inside all week. You were hoping to visit this new cat cafe that opened not far from UA. “Sure, but I’ll have to shower first. Do you have a place in mind?” He asks with a smile. “Yes, but it’s a surprise, so get ready and meet me downstairs when you’re done!” You say quickly leaving to get ready yourself.

You go to the living area to wait for Izuku. You notice the Bakusquad chilling on the sofa. “Hey Y/n, are you going somewhere?” Kirishima says as he is the first one to notice you. “I like your outfit, you look cute!” Denki compliments with a wide grin. “Thanks, me and Izuku are going out for lunch.” You answer Kiri as you sit down on the sofa next to Mina. “Girl, are you two together? Come on spill!” Mina asks excitedly as she holds you by your shoulders shaking you. “Haha no, we’re not! We’re just close friends is all.” You deny it with a blush on your face. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you. “Awh man, when are we going to get our first couple in class,” Mina whines disappointedly. “And I was totally shipping you and Deku as well.” She says pouting. You let out a chuckle, feeling slightly awkward after that sudden confrontation. “Y/n I’m ready.” You turn your face to see Deku standing at the door waiting for you. You felt a weird sensation in your stomach upon seeing Deku, but decide to ignore it. You quickly get up and wave off the Bakusquad as you both leave. On your way to the cat cafe, you could tell Deku was getting curious, but he trusted you enough to wait. Soon you arrive at the cute cafe. “Tadaa It’s a cat cafe! We’re getting lunch here.” You say with a wide smile. Deku lets out a laugh, his laugh was so damn cute. Izuku holds the door for you as you enter. You both order something to eat and drink. Whilst waiting for your order you were petting a cat with big green eyes. “He looks like you!” You exclaim with a giggle. “You think?” Deku asks with big eyes. “Well, this one reminds me of you.” He says pointing at the black cat sleeping on his lap. You both burst into laughter. You haven’t had this much fun in so long. You try to catch your breath, your stomach hurt from laughing and your food hasn’t even arrived yet. “That one looks like Aoyama!” you laugh pointing at the white cat with blue eyes that’s staring at its own reflection in the mirror. Deku laughs immediately agreeing with you. “I think that’s our order,” he says getting up, “I’ll go and grab it.” You nod at him and watch him walk to the counter. Suddenly you remember what Mina said earlier, that she ships you with Izuku. Now that you were thinking about it this does feel an awful lot like a date. At this point, you should just go out with him. You shake your head embarrassed as you bring your hands up to your face that was heating up. “I got our food,” Deku says placing the tray down on the table. “Is something wrong?” He asks noticing your red face and distressed state. “Uhm no.” You lie blatantly. Izuku frowns and gives you a worried look that makes you want to pinch his freckled cheeks. He was so just so cute and perfect and sweet and- “Just go out with me already!” You blurt out with no control. You slap your hands over your mouth as your eyes grow wide. No way did I just say that. You thought to yourself. You slowly look up at Deku to see his reaction and to your surprise, he turned even redder than you. “Y-you want to go out with me?” He stutters shocked. He suddenly sits back down and looks you in the eyes, a little calmer and more collected than a few seconds ago. “So you’re telling me that it isn’t one-sided?” Izuku asks seriously waiting for your confirmation. “Wait, what?” You ask completely dumbfounded. “Y/n I would love to go out with you!” Izuku exclaims with a shy smile. “Should we plan our second date?” You joke as you still couldn’t believe what was happening. “I think we should make our first one more fun. The day hasn’t ended yet.”

General headcanon:

💘 You and Izuku share your insecurities together late at night (and make sure to remind each other just how perfect you are).

💘 You both share your playlists together.

💘 Izuku liked dogs more at first but because of you he completely adores cats.

💘 Izuku compliments you everyday without fail.

💘 you both give each other cute and creative nicknames

Other possible matches: Shoto Todoroki

I'd appreciate it if you'd reblog this, and i hope you enjoyed reading this <3

[swaggy-pregnant-elf-man]

I posted 2,985 times in 2022

That's 1,767 more posts than 2021!

23 posts created (1%)

2,962 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@elytrians

@thekidsfromyestergay

@cttrajan1206

@discardedcandywrapper

@greenbeany

I tagged 1,232 of my posts in 2022

#mcr - 290 posts

#ofmd - 79 posts

#art - 65 posts

#toh - 41 posts

#birds - 21 posts

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#lol - 15 posts

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#prev tags - 13 posts

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My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

HELP ITS ME SUMI

The londoner in ur birmie squad sjdhhdf

i am so sorry bro i dont think i am who u think i am 😭😭

8 notes - Posted June 11, 2022

#4

aras have you seen the Joan of Arc outfit yet

I HAVE NOW KSKDKLEODJ DKDOEOL I AM GOING RVEN MORE INSANE GOING TO WATCH THE STREAM NOW

10 notes - Posted November 19, 2022

#3

3000 posts!

ashamed 😔

16 notes - Posted July 31, 2022

#2

clownwife

19 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I love the energy and all and I don’t want to offend but as a Muslim girl i can tell you that it is literally haram to identify as anything other than your god given gender. Like I’m not trying to be rude and I’m glad that there a respectful supportive people out there but if you’re looking at the Quran and other islamic book you’ll find stories about how its considered haram. Accepting the islam religion means accepting everything and dedicating yourself to it you can’t just pick and choose.

omg my first anon hate hahaha

i know im not obligated to answer hate but im going to anyway bcuz of i have things to say (sparkle emoji) (im on pc and dont have the energy to find an emoji keyboard)

okay first of all nowhere did i say that I identify as Muslim. i get that it was ambiguous tho so its cool. to clarify,, I am personally not Muslim but I kind of have to act like one so I don't get kicked to the streets or some shit lol and maybe I'm a bit of a coward idkkk but anyways

I would be interested to know what other Islamic books ur talking about btw, but I'm pretty sure the quran doesn't mention being trans anywhere at all. in fact I'm pretty certain, I've read it multiple times with translation and commentary interpretations and anyway being trans wasn't really a 'known' thing back then? bcuz obviously patriarchy and gender roles n segregation blah blah was wayyyy more yk. shit I forgot the word. uhhh yk like prevalent?? ofc the quran does mention a shitton about gender roles,, so yk men r the breadwinners, women raise the kids and keep house and be good wives etc. and also remember the big important fact:: GENDER AND SEX R DIFFERENT THINGS!!! meaning technically u cant be 'born' a gender (omfg my keyboard hates me imagine a question mark here) ur born with certain genitals and society assigns u a gender based on that . sounds a bit fucked when u put it like that actually but anyway back when the quran was being revealed this wasn't a known thing cuz yk they didn't have studies on this stuff,, and yea ur probably gonna say 'but the quran came from allah and he knows everything' well the fact of the matter is he either forgot or smth idk I don't speak for God but trans people definitely exist that's a fact we know so yeah. oh I should come back to my point which was, even with the quran saying those things about what ur supposed to do based on whats in ur pants which is crazy outdated anyway it doesn't take gender ≠ sex into consideration either soo ye that's the most it could've said about being trans and that not very valid anymore rip and that's not even mentioning non-binary people

and anyway Islam is literally all about acceptance and respect and everything so idk it would probably be better if u didn't go around telling ppl they're 'literally haram' for being trans or gay or any typa queer bcuz its literally not our choice (insert question marks) believe me I would fucking love to be comfortable in my 'female' body but I cant no matter how much I try to force myself so I'm sorry dude. no one would choose to be stuck in a situation like this. personally, I believe Islam needs a super massive reformation. well not Islam exactly, but a lot of things said in the quran r outdated wildly now, while a lot of it will also always be relevant, eg. everyone being equal and yk give to the poor etc. i have absolutely nothing against Muslims (I have it against my family for being so forceful about religion - different thing) yall r super cool and ik being a Muslim girl isn't easy believe me, but genuinely seeing Muslim people around and yk, just existing in wider society outside of Islamic spaces makes me feel so proud of where I came from even if its not been the best experience. have u seen the show We are Lady Parts (question mark) its about an all female Muslim punk band and there's only six episodes I literally watched it all today but the message of it is what I'm trying to get to you. u don't have to be the perfect pious wife to be considered a 'good Muslim',, there are so many ways u can show faith. you don't have to be a big strong man who can handle all pain with ease while single-handedly providing for a family either.

anyways peace out that sure was a journey lol and I definitely have forgot some of the things I wanted to say but yea that's all don't forget to like and subscribe &lt;3

(colours r to make it easier to read for people with shorter attention spans,, they don't have any other significance)

36 notes - Posted February 9, 2022

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[1kook]

EXPLORER

jjk x female reader

FOR GCN’S ❝ 23 | JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY PROJECT ❞ ! Alien AU | “I want to have your last name!” | “I like when you do that, it makes me crazy.”

summary; Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.  warnings; smut in the forms of cunnilingus, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, anal, tit play, and all that jazz bc surprise its tentacle porn rating: mature (18+) miscellaneous; FLUFF, strangers to friends to lovers, curious alien kook, there’s a saber tooth tiger mention, virginity is a social construct, they both have skewed perceptions of sex and love, and idk what else word count; 17.8k

notes; someone said once “all u ever do is write college aus 😃” and i was like lol true but i was also a virgo and was like “i’ll prove u wrong” and next thing i knew i was writing a 17k alien au clap for me lads

special thanks to; my savior and editor rumu ( @kigurumu​ ) who very politely tells me when im making up words n also when shit doesn't make sense but lets me make stupid final decisions that will come back to bite me in the ass<3 and also my gf yeji @suqakoo​ who watched me crash and burn about ten times while writing this monstrosity of  fic and just laughed her support amazes me<3

BEFORE READING SEE HERE; body marks, under eye marks, sixam that i stole from the sims 4 

He comes with the sole purpose of populating this uncharted territory with his seed. 

Jungkook has been on many missions abroad. He’s visited about every planet in Sector 76 before this, the largest collection of neighboring galaxies known to exist. And because of that, he likes to think he’s well educated in extraterrestrial affairs, quite knowledgeable in the barbaric ways of the foreigners. They see, they mate. Pretty simple. 

For the past couple years, as leading field researcher of Sixam, Jungkook has been exclusively studying every creature he comes across. He enjoys cataloging their habits, their mating cycles, and the unique culture they develop, sometimes intentionally and sometimes not. 

Granted, he’s never been on a mission like this. 

This type of mission has never been his. 

When the great planet of Sixam wishes to settle colonies of new species— Sixamian bred with whatever other species that have deemed suitable —they usually task people like Namjoon or Seokjin, both high ranking generals of the Sixamian Intergalactic Corp. with a near immaculate genetic makeup. Their genotypes carry strong traits, and are oftentimes most reflected in their phenotypes as well. Beings like Namjoon or Jin are the epitome of what it means to be Sixamian, which is why Jungkook is surprised when they ask him to place his seeds on Planet 43 Z-7 of the Via Láctea solar system, otherwise known as ‘Earth.’

It wasn’t that Jungkook had major self image issues, nor did he think he was particularly bad to look at. In fact, Jungkook thinks he’s pretty amazing. Of course he doesn’t compare to Namjoon or Jin, but quite frankly, the comparison is skewed by the fact he works in a different field than them. You cannot compare black holes to asteroid belts; in a similar fashion, you cannot compare military generals to scientific researchers. 

Anyway, Jungkook has never been to Planet 43 Z-7, but some of his coworkers have. They all claim it is a beautiful place, filled to the brim with life and culture never before seen. 

Frankly, Jungkook doesn’t believe it. 

He’s seen hundreds of planets, thousands of species, so he hardly feels amazed anymore. There is nothing enjoyable about other planets when he comes from Sixam, quite possibly the most intellectually advanced one in the universe. And he says this having met Yoongi of Planet 732 T-1, another being near immaculate in terms of cognitive abilities.

But not as perfect as Sixamians. 

Hoseok says Planet 43 Z-7 has all sorts of unique artifacts, like these edible arrangements called ‘hot dogs’ you eat between two pieces of raised yeast. Planet 43 Z-7 has been unmarked for eons now, but is a popular hideout for rebelling Sixamians during their early years. Jungkook was never one of those types, but he has a handful of friends who were. 

Needless to say, Jungkook isn’t looking forward to his mission. He asks Namjoon and Jin for tips on how to approach the reproductive members in the species, if there’s any protocol he needs to follow, but they simply laugh it off. They’ve both had the pleasure of, well, pleasuring some of the most beautiful creatures in the universe, so Jungkook’s incompetence must be a sight to see. 

Airship handler Jimin is the last face he sees on Sixam. He’s as relaxed as ever, strapping Jungkook into his travel pod like this is just another one of his research trips and not his first ever population operation. He pats his shoulder once, tells him to bring him back something called a ‘Nintendo DS’ that his partner Taehyung has been begging for since the last time they went to Planet 43 Z-7, but Jungkook has no idea what that is. 

And then he’s off. 

Jungkook has long since grown comfortable with the emptiness of space, a desolate feeling that oddly made him feel at home. But, as he hurtles towards his destination, there’s a newfound sense of anxiety that consumes him at the thought of this unknown planet— this ‘Earth’ that his fellow Sixamian friends speak so highly about. 

He lands in a field. Well, ‘lands’ is a bit of a stretch; his pod comes to a stop a few feet above Planet 43 Z-7’s surface, hovering over the natural flora that seems to grow in abundance in this part of the planet. It’s… dirty, compared to the sleek skyscrapers and glowing structures of Sixam. 

He steps out tentatively, the vegetation crunching beneath the boots of his skintight spacesuit. The folks back at Sixam had told him that whatever the residents of this planet breathed in was compatible with Sixamians, but he still hesitates to click off his helmet. 

The planet is quiet, save for the quiet chirping of some creature underground. The AI on his helmet pulls up the information before his very eyes, the advanced technology quickly tapping into wherever it was these beings stored their information. A mole cricket, he reads, first documented by a researcher about two hundred human years back. Very annoying. 

His pod seals itself shut again, presumably heading back into orbit until Jungkook calls for it again. With it gone, he’s faced with the vast nothingness of Planet 43 Z-7, just grass and trees with very few things in between. He’s beginning to suspect Jimin might have sent him to the wrong coordinates, a void space on the planet with nothing but vegetation for miles. 

Part of him is frustrated, beyond annoyed that he cannot even complete the one thing he came to do if there is no being in sight. But another part, the part of him that had been nervous to even accept this mission, feels grateful. Well, there was no use complaining about it now, he thinks. He pulls up his virtual journal, ready to catalogue every bit of vegetation he can set his eyes on. 

After a while, his helmet becomes stuffy, the digital screen that plays over the glass piece fogging up with his breath. So Jungkook takes his chances and clicks it off, the sudden wash of oxygen filling his lungs quickly. It’s fresh and moist? It smells like his laboratories back on Sixam, the ones that took years of countless trips around the universe and meticulous gardening to cultivate. Yet here on Planet 43 Z-7, this type of phenomenon is common, and apparently, ignored by its residents. 

One man’s trash was another man’s treasure, he supposes. 

He’s scanning a peculiar organism, reddish and dome-shaped, when he hears the first crack of a twig. Immediately, his defenses rise. Jungkook was by no means a skilled warrior, but most Sixamians fared better than other creatures in the universe. Save for the few barbarian, primitive species they’ve encountered, 9/10 times any wild encounter was in their favor. 

His eyes scan over the perimeter of the field, scanning, scanning, scanning— until he spots two, huge, glowing yellow eyes from distance. His eyes widen, flicking on the retractable blaster from his wrist and pointing it at the creature. 

It’s bigger than him, with eyes that look over only a short distance before gradually dying down. He wonders if that’s the scope of its field of vision, crouching down along the vegetation. He creeps closer, rounds the bright beams until he can see the creature’s side, an oddly shaped thing, almost like a shell. It has wheels, he realizes, mentally jotting down the fact this species is advanced enough to develop such technology on their own. 

Right as he’s beginning to lower his wrist, deciding this metal creature posed no threat from its lack of movement, something smaller moves around it, carrying a compact version of those glowing eyes. 

Jungkook panics, wildly clicking through the modes on his wrists. He jumps from his blaster to the thermal detector, and the smaller creature that moves around the metal beast has a heat signature he’s never seen before, warmth that begins at its core but doesn’t drop drastically as it fans out. And then he’s switching to his electroscope and is startled to see that the smaller creature even carries an electric charge beneath its outer membrane. 

This is terrifying, he thinks to himself, wondering why his friends back home had decided to trick him into believing Planet 43 Z-7 was remotely safe. 

Before Jungkook can act rashly and accidentally kill that terrifying creature, he’s blindly stepping into a hole in the ground, a dip in the field. An uncontrollable yelp tears itself from his throat at the roll of his ankle. 

Immediately, the yellow eye is upon him, flickering over his kneeling form in the vegetation. Jungkook freezes, caught in the all-seeing rays of the yellow eye. He wonders if this is the end, the end of an undoubtedly legendary run, as the creature slowly approaches. 

Its figure is shrouded, the blinding eye turning them into just a silhouette that closes in on Jungkook fairly quickly. He squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he never stepped out of his pod, when the beam flickers off. 

“Hello?” a hesitant voice calls out, and then he’s met with you. 

You had always believed holding out until marriage would come as an advantage. You played it safe your entire life, always did what you were told. You had grown up in a relatively traditional household, always following the rules like a good kid. Your parents said no dating until seventeen? You waited until seventeen. Your health classes in school said practice abstinence? You practiced abstinence. 

Following the rules was what got you into a prestigious university. Following the rules is what got you your first, quite admirable, job. Following the rules is what had gotten you into your first serious relationship with your boyfriend, who became your fiancé, who would become the man to cheat on you three nights before your wedding. 

Being a virgin— that symbol of purity —was supposed to make you desirable to men, you thought. It was supposed to protect you from bad experiences, keep you perfectly polished until the time came. You had many a friend who had engaged in sex at a young age, experienced mind blowing sex that would never be topped, even by their own future husbands. You had saved yourself from disappointment by saving yourself in general. 

Except that concept, that meticulously followed tradition, was what ultimately drove your fiancé away.

Three days. 

Three days before you would marry and lose that treasured thing you had been carrying around for the past twenty-five years, flushed clean down the drain all because he couldn’t wait any longer. He had managed four years with you, four memorable years where he had religiously told you he loved you every chance he got, regardless of your lack of sex life. Just to blow it for some barely legal chick at a bar. 

Needless to say, you were done. Absolutely finished with him and your friends who claimed they “weren’t surprised” only after the fact, or your parents who had urged you to try again. You were done with this saving and waiting all for a man who ultimately did you dirty. You needed to get away from it all, and the only way to do that was to leave the city all together. 

Your parents were uncomfortable with the idea. They said it was too brash a decision to give up after one try. But your whole future had been riding on this one try, and to have it completely ripped away from you crushed not only your hope but your pride. 

On the other hand, your grandmother and her lifelong experiences with men understood you just perfectly. She was old, living in a retirement home near your parents’ home in one of your city’s many suburbs. There was a house out in the countryside, about a two-hour drive from the city. She had grown up there, and even though she hadn’t lived there in years, she simply couldn’t bring herself to sell it off. So she gave it to you. 

It was a cute little thing, a stereotypical farmhouse surrounded by miles and miles of nothingness. Well, your neighbors were about half a mile off on either side, but who was walking half a mile for a cup of sugar? No one. 

You loved it. 

It was peace and quiet, long days of focusing on yourself and your tiny garden outback. There was no societal pressure to act right, or forced ideologies to make yourself the ‘perfect woman.’ It was just you and a stray cat that visited now and then, spending day after day reading and writing, working from home. 

The trips into the city were far and few between. There was a general store close to your house, nestled into a quaint little town you visited every so often. And the mailmen still had to make their stops through here, so everything was practically at your fingertips. The only thing you had to do in the city was drop by the main branch office of your job. Your work had mostly been over a computer before, so moving to work at home was rather easy. However, there was still the occasional board meeting to sit through. 

So here you were, three months into your new living situation and on your way back home from the city. The evening sun is beating down hot on your yellow Beetle. You were in desperate need for a check up, but you kept pushing it off and telling yourself tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. It seems tomorrow should have been today, because by the time the sun is setting, home is still another thirty minutes away and the temperature gauge is climbing to unhealthy levels. 

The Beetle pushes for another two minutes before wheezing to a stop in the middle of nowhere, your angry slaps against the dashboard doing nothing to revive it. With a muttered curse, you switch the car off. The front lights remain on even as you round the dead car, angrily kicking the tire with your heel. It doesn’t budge. 

You sigh, sinking down to your knees beside the opened door you came out of. The nearest mechanic was still a forty minutes’ drive from here, and you doubt anyone is still open. The con of small towns is that most of the businesses close after sunset. One glance at your phone lets you know it’s way too late to call anyone for help. You contemplate just walking to your house, but it’s dark and far, and your heels were only meant to be worn for an hour or two during your meeting. Not for an entire transcontinental trek back home. 

Sighing, you decide your best bet is tinkering around yourself. You weren’t a total idiot, so you hope whatever is wrong with your car is something you can fix on your own. You shoot back up to your feet, patting the blood back into your face as you round the car. 

There’s nothing but you and the Beetle for miles on end— or so you think. 

Just as you flicker your flashlight over the expanse of grass, there’s a startled shout that scares the living daylights out of you, flashlight fumbling in your hand in your haste to see what it was. 

Great, so not only were you stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but your heels to carry you to safety, but now there was also a man out there, hiding in the tall grass like a voyeur. 

It’s a terrible idea, but you approach him anyway. There’s a huddled figure, a gleam of a bizarre outfit that has you shaking in your heels as you step closer to the edge of the road. And when you finally get close enough, the light shining over their figure, you’re not exactly sure what you’re looking at. 

“Hello?” you call out, and are met with the most violet eyes you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 

Jungkook thinks you are an odd creature. 

To begin with, you carry an electrical charge at your fingertips but are unable to revive your rickety metal ride with said touch. It is undoubtedly a trait he does not remember cataloguing in any other species before yours; it might rival the Sixamians’ aura sensing abilities, the little triangular markings beneath their eyes that allowed them to alter another’s emotions. Electricity beneath surface, he mentally notes for the nth time that night. 

The inside of your vehicle is disgustingly mediocre, a mixture of old clogs and pipes he’s only seen in ancient Sixamian textbooks. Still, they’re devastatingly easy to figure out. One simple twist of a lid later and your car is revving back to life. You squeal and clap, clacking around on the frankly terrifying footwear you call heels that are practically knives as stilts. 

Amazing, you cry, moving like a mini tornado around him. You don’t seem the least bit phased by his appearance, despite the initial shock you’d gotten when you first made eye contact. Actually, Jungkook thinks you might be the quickest extraterrestrial being to accept his existence as fact. He has to wonder what exactly goes on here that has these Humans, as Jimin has called them, so desensitized to the appearance of otherworldly figures such as himself. 

You invite him into your moving death trap, not the least bit concerned with the chest piece of armor he removes and tosses into the seats behind him. Jungkook has been in a lot of near death situations, and somehow your manner of driving this metal box marks high on the list. 

“My home,” you tell him when you finally pull up to a tiny shack of a house. It’s about the same size as his personal lab back on Sixam, so he wonders just which one of you is being deluded by the size. The car engine shuts off with a practiced flick of your wrist, and then you’re making your way up the front steps without sparing him a glance. 

“Lovely,” he says at the entrance. He moves to travel deeper inside, but you warn him to remove his shoes. He does, hesitantly, bare feet padding along the wooden floors behind you. “Forgive me,” he apologizes, watching you bumble around a small space with a standing cooler and heat box. “I haven’t asked your name.”

You hum, tugging out two cups from a hanging cabinet. You fill them with a white substance, followed by a light brown powder that almost makes you sneeze, before shoving them into the heat box that begins suspiciously counting down. “__ ___,” you offer. 

Jungkook frowns. “You have two names?” he asks skeptically. In Sixam, rarely anyone had two names. “Are you a government official?” 

You laugh. “No, but I do work for an office. I have one name, and then my last name,” you explain. 

This only perplexes him more. “A last name?” he repeats. “What is the purpose of this last name?” 

You shrug, and the heat box beeps loudly. Jungkook twitches, ready to aim his blaster once more but you calm the beeping box with a gentle click that has the front opening, the most heavenly scent wafting into his nostrils. Oh Jungkook definitely needed to take that back. Much to his surprise, you hand him one of the handled cups, the sweet smell making his eyes roll into the back of his head. 

“Well,” you say, seemingly unaware of the way you just changed Jungkook’s entire life. “I have my name, and then I have my family’s name. Like, to show we’re in the same group, kinda,” you explain. “And it also helps sort of differentiate you from other people with the same first name.” You settle down on a seat in front of the counter, carefully blowing across the liquid contents of the mug. Jungkook doesn’t get why until he tries to take a sip and the liquid scalds his tongue. You laugh. “Gotta cool it down, silly.” 

He feels silly. In fact, he feels beyond embarrassed that someone who is not a Sixamian is looking at him with the same eyes you look at an infant with. He has a strong need to reinforce his superiority over you. 

“Well I am Jungkook,” he announces proudly. “Jungkook of Sixam. The only Jungkook of Sixam, because we do not believe in sharing something as intimate as our names with another,” he huffs. You scoff, a genuine look of amusement crossing your features that Jungkook simply does not understand. 

It’s with a practiced grace that you set your cup down on the counter, face coming to a rest in in the palm of your hand as you watch him talk over himself about the intricacies of Sixamian names, and how each one is carefully selected at one’s first celebration to honor the first long year of life they overcame. That look on your face, that disgustingly entertained expression does not melt away, even when Jungkook hastily calls your people imbeciles to your face. 

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, staring deep into the contents of your hot cocoa, as you had called it when offering him a second cup, as if you don’t seem to disagree in the slightest. “Humans are like that. 

There’s a quality to your voice, a rather melancholy tone that curls around your words that stops Jungkook’s tirade against your race for a moment. There’s a look in your eyes, hollow and alone, that he cannot place. He wonders if it’s from past experiences or from a shared Human trauma. Either way, he does not understand. 

It’s with a shake of your head that you look up at him again, sweet smile back on your features. “Humans are selfish creatures, Jungkook,” you say. 

He is not sure if he believes you. 

Jungkook has traveled to many parts of the universe, has visited places your tiny Human brain may never comprehend. Yet he has not always received this treatment. There have been missions where he has been picked on and abused for his curiosity, rudely ejected back into the vast emptiness of space just because he wanted to know more, learn more. Not every planet welcomes him with a soft smile and a warm place to stay. 

Despite the initial unimpressed confusion he felt upon entering Planet 43 Z-7, there is something about the quirk of your lips and gentle tapping of your fingers that intrigues him. 

Huh, he thinks, subconsciously cataloguing your mannerisms in his head. He will write about this later. 

You let Jungkook sleep in your quarters, a small area with a mattress that he sinks into with delight. There’s a change of clothing you set out on the edge of the bed, a rather shabby set that matches yours. He is reluctant to peel away his bodysuit, even more so when he realizes he is standing naked on a foreign planet with a very strange creature clattering around downstairs. He hurries into the clothes. 

You peek your head into the room later on, carefully flicking off the lights as he settles onto the mattress. Jungkook is beyond tired, body fatigued from hurtling thousands of light years through space in such a short amount of time. The abundance of breathable oxygen is still something his body has to grow accustomed to. Your voice is soft as you whisper out a goodnight farewell that he can only sleepily mumble back. 

Jungkook is quite literally the most gorgeous person you have ever seen. Well, person is a stretch considering you’re not entirely sure what he is, or where he’s from. When you found him, sadly crouched in the middle of nowhere, you wanted to convince yourself he was some random college boy lost on his way to a costume convention. But he’s not. His big purple irises are oddly bright, practically luminescent, and that’s definitely not something one could achieve through stage makeup. And he’s not a college student either, despite how youthful he looks, but a foreign being at least three times your age. 

Or so he says. 

Honestly, you’re torn between wanting to write him off a nutjob or believing he is this highly intelligent extraterrestrial being. In the case he is the latter, you find it odd that of all the planets in your solar system— a whopping eight, maybe nine —he chose crappy old Earth to visit. 

Jungkook moves like a fine tuned instrument, graceful limbs wandering around your home and backyard the next morning. His little head piece, a unique accessory that wraps around the base of his skull like a microphone headset or something, seems to keep him in constant communication with his fellow brethren so long as he wears it. So he wears it all the time. 

Still, you’re able to differentiate between his messages back home and his mindless mumbles. Those usually happen more often than not, soft muttering as he inspects your garden, vivid descriptions of the plainest things like an onion. 

“Lemonade’s ready,” you call, stepping into your backyard. Jungkook peers over your rosemaries like a bunny, wide eyes scanning the pitcher you set out on your back porch’s table. Carefully, he steps around your meticulous rows of vegetables. He’s wearing the clothes you lent him last night, a pair of shorts and a shirt your brother had left when he visited a few weeks ago. They fit him nicely, shorts just shy of his knees. 

“This is lemond-aid?” he asks quizzically, tentative hands reaching for the quickly perspiring glass. He has unique markings that begin at his hands, twisting and curling carefully around his arms. They’re gold in the sunlight, contrasting softly against his relatively peachy skin. There’s a matching set on his knees that wrap over and around his thighs, beneath his shorts. He looks every bit the celestial being, yet here he is marveling over the lemon slice balanced on the rim of his glass. 

“Lemonade,” you correct, sitting down on your rocking chair. Your floppy sun hat protects you from the brutal rays of the sun, practically scorching in this summer heat. It reminds you of the honeymoon you were supposed to take a few months back. You stomp out the memory. 

Jungkook takes tentative sips, stopping every few seconds to smack his lips at the taste. Then, suddenly, he’s plopping down on the wooden planks of your porch criss-cross applesauce. The bracelet-like contraption he had removed from his suit is sitting on his wrist by itself, with Jungkook rapidly tapping some unseeable button on it until a blue hologram appears between the two of you. 

“Woah,” you gasp, the projection flawless and stable. Jungkook gets to work tapping at it, unrecognizable symbols appearing on the screen. His glass of lemonade is by his knee, ice tinkling inside. 

“Lemond-aide,” he repeats, mouth moving awkwardly around the world. He glances at you for confirmation. You shake your head. Frustrated, he scoots up beside you, pressed against your leg like a puppy. “Say it,” he commands, tapping at his screen once. 

You clear your throat. “Uh, lemonade?” you offer. Jungkook nods, clicks something else, and then your voice is repeating itself back to the two of you. He looks for your approval once more. “Perfect,” you nod, slightly bashful to hear your own voice played back like that. 

Content with your approval, he gets back to work, clicking and typing wildly at the screen until it’s filled to the brim with those strange symbols. When he’s done, he says his name and date into the same recording device and shuts off his hologram. “It is an interesting thing,” he says quietly, bare feet swinging over the edge of the porch. “A sweet drink procured from a tangy fruit.” 

You nod, can’t stop the smile that consumes your features at his childlike wonder. You know it’s not his fault that such simple things astound him, but there’s something about Jungkook’s genuine curiosity and snarky tongue that make you feel young again. Like a teenager in her prime, sitting with a silly high school boy. Not a woman sitting on the cusp of thirty, alone and untrusting of the world. 

“What are hot dogs?” Jungkook cuts in abruptly, turning to face you with those purple eyes of his. You can’t help it; you laugh. 

“I have some in the fridge,” you answer, leaving your rocking chair and him on the porch. Jungkook doesn’t sit still for long, quietly trailing behind you inside the house. The stray cat is here today, slinking around your ankles as you scour the fridge for the hot dogs. It’s a perfect day for a barbecue, you think, with hot dogs and lemonade. 

The cat wanders over towards Jungkook, sniffing at his ankles before nuzzling against him too. “You also have smilodon on your planet,” he comments. “You are comfortable with such murderous beasts in your home?”

You furrow your brows. “It’s just a cat,” you shrug, leaning down to pick up the furry baby. He purrs against your chest while Jungkook glares at it. 

“Have you taken its teeth for your own?” he asks. 

“What?” you laugh. “He has all his teeth.” 

Jungkook frowns. “No, his unusually large canines,” he explains, mimics two giant fangs with his fingers. “Is this a kitten of a smilodon?” You have no idea what he’s saying at this point, rubbing the cat’s back gently as Jungkook talks over himself. He does that a lot, you realize, ramble about facts you would otherwise see as of little importance. 

The afternoon is spent grilling hot dogs, Jungkook carefully trailing the cat he has taken to calling Smilodon. You watch from the grill as he follows the cat around the garden, gently shooing it off when it gets too close to your broccoli plants. He’s cute, you think, watching him maneuver around your plants with the grace of a trained dancer. 

He absolutely adores the hot dogs, spending another twenty minutes typing out one of those funky journal entries into the computer in his wristband. He asks about the Nintendo DS, something that makes you laugh boisterously at the absurdity of the question. 

When it gets dark outside, he stands in one place and stares up at the sky, rendered motionless at the sight. Jungkook doesn’t like coffee, but he loves hot cocoa. He settles in to watch the nightly news with you, every five minutes filled with an abundance of questions about your planet— which he refers to by a unique set of numbers and letters you’ve never heard before —and what you like to do. Every tidbit of information is documented in his wristband. 

He sleeps on the couch this time, feeling shameful to have pulled you away from such an amazing mattress. He says goodnight shyly from the bottom of the stairs, followed by a tentative wave he saw you give the mailman that morning. You say it back and fall asleep, the alien in your living room not making a peep. 

Thus a whole week passes with Jungkook of Sixam.

On the seventh day of his stay, Jungkook is woken up by the quiet beeping of his headpiece. It’s Chief Kim Namjoon, calling to ask how his population operation of Planet 43 Z-7 is going. Jungkook stills, the quiet chirping of the birds outside your window filling in the space. The water is running somewhere inside your house, signaling your conscious state. 

His answers are quick and sharp, nervous laughter falling from his lips as he rushes to end the call with Namjoon. He manages to do so just as you appear in the living room, skin nice and dewy from your morning shower, eyes still showing signs of your peaceful slumber. 

“Good morning,” you rasp quietly, a soft ruffle of his hair as you pass by Jungkook on your way to the kitchen. His face feels warm, under eye markings surely glowing a vivid red at the gesture you have gradually ingrained into him, one that makes his heart rev up like an engine preparing to shoot off millions of light years into the distance. 

Jungkook enters the kitchen behind you, your pet smilodon greeting the two of you with a gentle head butt against his ankles that is unlike any other smilodon he has encountered before. He sits at the counter as you work on breakfast, the faint scent of your cucumber body scrub wafting by with every turn you make in the small kitchen. 

And then he’s thinking. 

There are a few crucial bits of information that Jungkook has come to realize over the past week, some of which he hears directly from you, others he picks up from watching your ancient projection in the living room. 

One: of the variety of human genders that exist on Earth, you are one that seems to carry the specific set of bodily structures necessary for reproduction. He’s inspected you carefully the last few days, watching the way you move and carry yourself, just to ensure such is true. By finding you right away, Jungkook was halfway to his goal of settling his seeds on Planet 43 Z-7. 

Two: unlike most humans of Planet 43 Z-7, your body seems oddly… preserved, to say the least. He knows you are familiar with their reproductive rituals as he’s watched a few of said rituals on the projection box in your living room with you. They were very normalized among your people, with almost every broadcast including at least one mention of them every day. Despite that, your body shows no significant reaction to the scenes, and one sneaky scan of your vitals shows Jungkook that you have yet to participate in this ritual yourself. 

Lastly, Jungkook has come to the terrible, godawful conclusion that he does not wish to rope you into breeding with him for the sake of Sixam’s colonialist ways. There’s something about you and your people that does not deserve to be seized by Jungkook and his people. A sort of untouched quality of the progression of your species.

As the oldest and most advanced planet in quite possibly the entire universe, Sixam holds significant power over everyone else. Their higher order brains have helped many a planet follow the right path in attaining the same level of perfection. They were saviors of some sort, touching every planet they visited with the finger of a god. While there were certainly some Sixamians who did not believe in this way of life, of stretching their hold across entire galaxies, others did. 

Jungkook had always fallen in the middle. He had no particular desire to reign over the planets he visited, because his interests had always laid with the existence of the individuals on said planets. He was a researcher, not a military official like Namjoon or Jin. But he has to admit that time and again his research has procured the same results; while there were certainly other planets where the beings were more beautiful or the landscape more stunning than that of Sixam, there was not a single planet that matched their advanced mental capabilities. 

Until now. 

Your civilization moved in a rather fluid way, always changing and never settling. There were eras he learned about on TV, revolutions where one invention rose to prominence, where one sub-race rose to power. Even now, a simple scan through your news broadcasts leaves Jungkook curious. For the first time in a long time, his countless journal entries of information do not lead him to a plausible conclusion. Would you make it right and settle your disputes? Or would this endless fighting, sometimes carried out passively and through words, other times with the use of advanced weaponry, continue until the end of time? Jungkook didn’t know. 

And it was wrong of him to ask you to carry the burden of introducing an entirely new species— a Human and Sixamian at once —for the sole belief that it would somehow “fix” your planet. For the sake of your people, it was best if Jungkook just bugged off. 

And yet, the soft scent of your body lotion, the gentle brush of your hands against his scalp, the delicate way his name rolls off your lips like you’re tasting it for the first time, they all make his heart beat unnaturally fast beneath his skin. They make him yearn for a feeling, an emotion, he cannot quite describe. 

He was in trouble. 

Ovulation creeps up on you early into the next week. 

You hadn’t been too focused on it this time around, mostly just worried about your period and how awkward it would feel around Jungkook of Sixam. Preoccupied with stockpiling pads and finding your heat pad, you forget about the few days before the period. The time where your libido rages like an animal that has been poked at one too many times. 

The realization dawns on you slowly. Jungkook is sitting on the couch, avidly watching a documentary on ancient civilizations. He’s got one hand in a bowl of popcorn you set out for him, another mindlessly toying with a stray thread on a throw pillow. It’s when he looks at you with those big purple eyes, lips pouty and pink, that something distinctly carnal flickers on inside of you. 

You ignore it. You wrap those feelings in a box and shove it deep into the recesses of your mind. 

But Jungkook was devastatingly handsome, that much you’d known from the moment you saw him. When he’s not in the sun, those Sixamian markings wrap around his body in charcoal streaks, peeking out from the hem of whatever clothes you find for him everyday. For the most part, he’s been running through the pack of plain shirts you picked up from the general store, and the same two pairs of shorts on rotation. His body is artfully toned, thighs big and bulging, but waist small and tapered. His lower lip is the juiciest pink color you’ve ever seen, plush and soft, framing two rows of pearly white teeth. His hair is jet black, part favoring one side more than the other. 

His hands are firm on the rare occasion he touches you; on your hips when you stumble around the kitchen, on your shoulder when he’s pointing out a particular constellation to you. Jungkook’s presence slowly begins driving you to insanity. 

The worst thing is, you cannot tell if his curiosity comes from your status as a potential partner or his overall interests in your species. You want to convince yourself that he is just as interested in your body as an individual as you are his, but those hopes are dashed with every question he asks. Where does the sink drain? Where does the chocolate powder come from? How far is the nearest government official? 

So you calm your thoughts, push them away with the same practiced ease you’ve mastered from a young age. Your purity remains untainted by others, only teased in the shower when Jungkook is wandering around outside. Then and only then do you offer yourself a reprieve, press your fingers down between your thighs and wonder what it is like to have someone else there. 

You picture two purple eyes peering up at you from below, a pink tongue carefully licking against your puffy folds until you’re shaking. How well endowed was a Sixamian? You didn’t know, but you imagine them to be quite big if the subtle shifts you catch of Jungkook every now and then are any sign. 

One finger wiggles past the tight ring of muscle surrounding your hole, the intrusion makes your knees buck. You sink along the shower wall, huffing and puffing as your fingers dance along your swollen clit, thumb swirling hurried circles around the bud until you’re cumming, body spasming from the force.

The water rains down on you, washes your shameful acts down the drain. Vaguely, you wonder if Jungkook is still outside or if the heat drove him into your air conditioned home. Did he hear you? For all his curiosity, you’re certain there are some aspects of the human experience that Jungkook did not want to see. His roommate/caretaker/only-human-friend masturbating was probably one of them.  

It has been years since your fantasies included any other man, faithfully revolving around your ex-fiancé until the very end. It is scary how quickly the mere idea of Jungkook riles you up, how that violet gaze is enough to tear you apart. 

When you resurface in the living room, the house is still. The only sounds are that of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the occasional creaking of the pipes. Jungkook is still outside, you sigh in relief, catching his fluffy head of hair bounding across the front yard with Smilodon on his heels. When he turns, you catch his eyes and he pauses. He offers you that same cute wave he learned last week, gentle smile gracing his features. 

It’s the soft curve of his cheeks, eyes crinkling at the corners, that make the rapid thumping in your chest settle. You raise your hand, waving back through the window. All was well. 

For now. 

The next morning brings with it an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Namjoon calls him again in the morning, and this time Jungkook cannot skirt around the truth. He hurriedly tells his friend of his findings, of the beautiful society that flourishes on Planet 43 Z-7, and the never-ending personalities he has the chance of encountering. There is an author fansign, you told him, of a book he thoroughly enjoyed taking place next week. There is a woman in town who can fix any technology sent her way. There is a group of children who pass by and sell you food, these flattened things called Girls Cout Cook Ease. There is so much to see and so much to learn that it has Jungkook unconsciously projecting his excitement via his under eye markings. 

You come downstairs mid-call, smiley and ditzy. You were normally a bubbly person, but this much excitement can’t possibly be yours. It’s the sign Jungkook needs to settle down, but Namjoon offers him one too. 

Much to his chagrin, he warns Jungkook against getting too comfortable, tells him to finish his operation and scram as quickly as possible. The Higher Sixamian Court does not take kindly to Sixamians becoming enamored with other planets, especially if they are as advanced as Jungkook claims them to be. He’s rushing out information, begging Jungkook to finish or abandon his mission, anything but stay too long, and before Jungkook can respond, their comms are abruptly shut off. 

He’s left blankly staring at your coffee table, Namjoon’s caution ringing loudly in his ears. 

After the effects of his accidental influence wear off on you, you shake yourself awake, confusedly glancing around the place before shrugging it off. “Morning,” you say, the same as ever, patting his head softly. Jungkook watches you begin your daily routine, the kettle running on the stove as you get to work preparing his hot cocoa. 

For a moment he wonders what it’s like to be like this, to live like this. Free from the standards of Sixam as you go about your morning. There is no drive in you to conquer everyone, no overwhelming need to ‘fix’ those around you. You exist by yourself in this tiny house outside the city, like a moon always circling but never interacting. He knows you have your own circumstances that drove you here, issues where you suffered that same grueling past of people forcing ideas and beliefs upon you as Jungkook. But now you’re here, housing an extraterrestrial being such as himself without any payment. 

He wants to be like you. 

He wanders over towards the kitchen, returning your sleepy smile when you catch his gaze. Jungkook likes this. He enjoys seeing you in the morning, still trailed by the remnants of sleep, with skin tender to the touch. The smell of cocoa filling his nostrils, the chirp of the birds outside your window. He likes Smilodon and the mailman, and the woman half a mile from here who brought you peaches the other day. 

Most importantly, Jungkook likes you. 

Not as a breeding partner or convenient hostess, but as a person. Your laughter makes him feel warm inside, like he is genuinely appreciated as is. You’re gentle with your words, and even more so with your touch; hands pat his head, hold his arm when he stumbles too close to the garden. 

Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning. 

He wants to remain beside you. 

It’s a little stuffy inside your house today, a problem you solve by cracking open the kitchen window. A nice breeze flows over the two of you, pushing the scent of the cocoa and your coffee his way. But a sweeter one follows, something thick and earthy that rolls off of you in waves. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, tries to ward off those sounds he heard from you just yesterday afternoon. 

Those whiny sounds, airy whimpers that had drifted down from upstairs. A wet squelch that had registered a little too loudly to his superior ears. It had haunted him last night on the couch, made Jungkook twist and turn until the fuzzy image of you relieving yourself went away. 

Jungkook wanted to help with that too. He wanted to put his hands and his mouth in places you needed him most, pleasure you like you deserved. 

But how could he tell you all this and more? Did he even have the right as an invader to profess his infatuation to you? This Planet 43 Z-7, this Earth, was filled to the brim with interesting things, yet you remained at the very top of Jungkook’s list. He couldn’t leave, not now, but he couldn’t stay either. His entire presence in itself was a ploy to spread his seed, a fact you continued to be unaware of. 

Namjoon’s words bounce around his brain, twist and wrap around him until he’s shakily reaching for his mug. He couldn’t stay here any longer under this false pretense. He couldn’t lie to you another day, another second more. He was tired of being a sheep. It’s with this conflicting resolve that he commands himself to confess this to you at once. 

So he spills it all out to you. 

From the complex history of the Sixamians to his assignment of this mission. You listen quietly as you munch through breakfast, nodding along to each new point he brings up that changes the story. He tells you about the population mission, about how he was sent here to spread his superior genes over the land, but how he’s let that sit on the back burner while you taught him all sorts of new things. If you are unimpressed with Jungkook and Sixam, you don’t show it. 

“So you came to... breed?” you ask when he has finished, hands neatly folded on your lap. Breakfast is finished, plate scraped clean. 

Jungkook nods shamefully. “I was asked to contribute to the reconstruction of Planet 43 Z-7,” he says, repeating the practiced reasoning every Sixamian has heard at least once in their life. But in front of you, it makes him cringe. 

The grandfather clock in the hallway clicks along quietly, the soundtrack to Jungkook’s desperate read of you. Your eyes are focused on the plate before you, lost in thought at the abundance of information he has just thrown on you. He could easily switch his influential abilities back on, brighten your mood like he has been taught to do with countless other species since the beginning of time. But it feels wrong to subject you to that, to strip you of your emotions, even if it would save him the discomfort. 

Instead he sits in silence. 

Jungkook waits patiently, even though every fiber in his being is telling him to get up and make a run for it. Escape before he can see a look of disgust aimed his way. But he has come to value your opinions as equal to his, and the thought of leaving you by yourself does not sit well with him. So he waits. 

It takes a few minutes of contemplation before you grace him with an answer, nervously rubbing your hands over your thighs. “I understand, Jungkook,” you exhale tightly. “But I don’t think I’m the partner you are looking for.”

“No! I was not— It was not my intention,” he stammers, waving his hands all over the place in his hurry to explain. He sucks in a sharp breath. “I do not wish to force such a burden on you, __,” he manages, “I would not do that to you.”

He is about to pat himself on the back for his save, when suddenly the corners of your lips take a sharp drop. “Oh, I see,” you mutter, arms self consciously wrapping around your frame. “So you don’t see me as a suitable partner?” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your drawn conclusion. “No,” he chokes, and your frown deepens. “I mean, yes, I do see you as a viable partner to engage in reproductive activities,” and now he’s spiraling, the surprised look on your face only fueling his pea-brained ramblings, “I just—I assumed you did not enjoy that? 

His excuse sounds so unbelievably weak even to his own ears. 

“What made you think that?” you ask. At the rate this conversation is going, Jungkook fears his brain will soon fry itself out. 

His mind is a spinning mess, like the inside of a vacuum that rumbles and turns with each new thought that enters. What was he supposed to say? That he’s heard you in your most intimate moments, moments where you hid from him? Or that he’s done countless scans on your body when you weren’t looking and came to the same result every time; that result being that you have never been touched by another before? And what was he supposed to draw from these conclusions if not that you abhorred such intimacy?  

“I-I heard… you,” Jungkook admits quietly. “And, I felt your emotions. They were nervous.” He does not need his thermal detector to feel the heat that floods your face. “I did not want to impose on such a fragile moment,” he continues. “And I apologize if my actions have made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no,” you wave off, pressing the back of your knuckles to your cheeks. “I apologize for doing something so inappropriate with you in my house.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Do you not enjoy participating in sexual activities, __?” he asks curiously. 

You gulp loudly, obviously startled by his question. Which part of it, Jungkook doesn’t know. He nudges your knee with his, urging you to answer. A shaky exhale, and then you’re rambling. “I-No, I do,” you rush out, avidly avoiding his gaze. “I, um, I just have never, uh, been with anyone.” 

“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Is that why your reproductive areas are strangely well preserved for a being your age? I was beginning to wonder about the complexities of Human reproduction after meeting you, __. Is there a certain tradition one must follow to copulate with you?” 

“No, no,” you rush to correct. Jungkook has obviously said something that upset you, because when you speak again your aura is tainted with the hints of irritation. “Tradition is stupid,” you explain slowly, a sense of heartache consuming him at your rather lonely figure. He is beside you, yet feels a thousand light years away from your heart. “I was just a fool.”

His gaze softens, carefully placing a hand on your knee comfortingly. He doesn’t have to say anything more, just let you know he isn’t far at all, and you understand. You lean against his shoulder, the same sad look in your eyes. The grandfather clock ticks on in the hallway, in sync with the slow rhythm of your heart. Jungkook places a kiss to the crown of your head. 

The day drags on. 

Your morning chores are finished quickly with Jungkook at your side. He obsesses over the plants and plays with Smilodon. You make apple juice today with the fruits that fall from the tree out front. Jungkook enjoys it, but not as much as lemonade. Still, it gets its own entry in his log. 

He asks more questions about your world, straying away from the ones he had last week that seemed to exclusively revolve around the fauna and flora. Now, he is interested in your Human way of life. The TV confuses him, and he doesn’t quite understand the difference between dramas and news stations. So you explain as best you can for him. 

His main issue lies in his inability to comprehend the constant strife within your planet, especially when you explain to him topics like poverty or homelessness. Sixam is nothing like Earth, he says, because everyone on Sixam is looked after and taken care of as deemed appropriate. There is no division of classes because deep down, every Sixamian acknowledges they are superior to the rest of the universe. It sounds like a utopia to you, but you’ve read enough books to know how those usually turn out. 

That fact intrigues Jungkook as well. How Humans can be aware of so many altering concepts and beliefs, yet desensitized to all. He doesn’t get it, and explaining the concept of fiction existing on a separate plane only confuses him more. 

Eventually you bring it back to tradition, somehow, that dreaded word you’ve come to abhor. Jungkook enjoys learning about your culture and your way of life, little things you do here and there. But as most things do in your life, the conversation circles back around to your failed marriage. 

“Ah,” Jungkook says. “So it is tradition to save your first reproductive act for the one you ‘marry’?” You nod, toes tucked up into the couch. It’s a little before sunset now, the orange hue of the outdoors leaking into your living room. “And then you take their last name? That is very confusing, __. I thought this last name identified you to your fellow Human, how can you so easily change it around?” 

You laugh. “It's complicated,” you offer. Jungkook chuckles as well, obviously overwhelmed with all the new information you provided him with today. 

Jungkook nods pensively but you doubt he understands. “I see,” he mumbles, fingertip tapping against the armrest he’s leaning against. It’s a tell tale sign that he desperately wants to document what you’ve said in his supercomputer bracelet but is holding back for the sake of this moment. You think it’s rather sweet. “So copulation does not always secure you a partner.”

You shrug halfheartedly. “People have different drives,” you say. “Some of them want love and some just want sex.”

“And you?” he asks suddenly, big purple eyes swirling with entire galaxies. “What would you like?” 

A lot of things, you think, but when it comes down to it, when Jungkook asks you with his pretty eyes and pouty lips, you can’t find the right words. “Both,” is your measly reply. “What about you?” 

He seems just as thrown off by your question as you, eyes widening as he leans back. The living room is bathed in warm splashes of color, the last of the sun’s rays painting Jungkook in a rather romantic light. You can’t look away. “I too would like both,” he admits, idly tracing the tip of his finger along the markings that decorate the tops of his knees. “This notion of attraction beyond the physical realm is not common in Sixam,” he answers. “Sixam is very… strict about what a relationship entails. 

You set your mug down on the side table, shuffling around until your toes poke his hip, arm thrown over the back of the couch. “How so?” you ask. 

Jungkook’s lips push out into a frown. “The Higher Sixamian Court has long since ruled that mating rituals between citizens are strictly limited to those that will produce the most immaculate genome,” he says, as if that is just another simple, everyday fact of life. It is for him, but not for you. 

“So, are you like… assigned?” you press, suddenly wondering how a being as curious and sentimental as Jungkook has survived so long in a place like Sixam. “And like, do you raise kids together?”

“Until the end of their first era,” Jungkook supplies, as if that makes the slightest bit of sense. “And sort of. Sixam is not that oppressive,” he jokes, but there is something about his eyes missing their usual glow that tips you off. “I have yet to copulate for reproductive purposes.”

You pause. “But you have for… fun purposes?” 

Jungkook looks at you seriously. And then, ever so slowly, the little marks beneath the corners of his eyes, the little triangles that usually flare blue, fade into a lovely pink shade. “I-“ he stammers, obviously flustered by your question. “I have.”

Your mouth parts into a little o. “With other Sixamians? Or….” Jungkook flushes, nods meekly. His expression seems off, like it isn’t a particular fond memory he carries. “Was it bad or something?” 

He sighs. “It is… very lacking. Nothing like the scenes depicted in your projection box.” He nods towards the TV, you barely contain a giggle at its name. You reach for your mug instead. “There is no,” he waves a hand in front of his face. The last rays of sun catch on his hand and turn his charcoal  markings a pretty gold. “No expressions of adoration beyond what is necessary. And I do not particularly enjoy that.” 

You nod understandingly. “You're soft,” you tease, watch his little triangles light up again at your words. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “so am I.”

He says nothing, just stares blankly out the front window as the sun disappears behind the horizons, leaving thousands of glittering lights in its wake. Not man made but natural; right. “I think your last name is lovely,” he suddenly announces. You chuckle against the lip of your mug, but Jungkook doesn’t find it amusing. He turns to you with that sparkling purple gaze, like you’ve hung those stars outside yourself. ���There is no other __ ___ like you.”

Your face feels warm, and you’re not sure if it’s from the coffee steam rising from the mug or Jungkook’s unexpected reassurance. It makes your heart tender, sends a shock through your system that leaves your body buzzing. “Thank you,” you say sincerely, covering the palm he rests over the couch with yours. 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t need to. 

Ovulation ends, but your blossoming feelings for Jungkook do not go away. 

The next morning his comms remain shut off. Jungkook has never had his communications back home cut off, save for the time in his first era where he brashly spoke out against his superior in a lab. He was young and had much to learn, took too many risks and didn’t consider the consequences. He guesses he hasn’t grown much since then as he watches you tend to your garden. 

“Smilodon urinated in the closet,” he announces, witnessing the smile slowly slip off your features. He lets you revel in your annoyance for exactly two seconds before following with the phrase he heard on your box the other day. “Just kidding! You are being prank’d. 

Your frown is nothing like the expression the program’s contests exhibited following their supposed pranking. “Jungkook, that’s not funny,” you huff and his heart sinks. A soft snort. “Okay, maybe a little,” you concede with a terribly contained smile. 

He bounds over, kneels down beside you, and begins pulling the overgrown weeds out with you. “I saw it on the projection box the other day,” he explains excitedly, tossing the weeds into the bag between you two. “I did not know such pleasure could be received from silly broadcasts like that.” You nod, say something about all kinds of dumb shows existing before a pout taints your lips. “What's wrong?” 

A long sigh from you. “I think the sun isn’t reaching these,” you tell him, lifting the stem of a sad looking tomato plant. It’s the closest one to the house, often covered by the house’s shadow when the sun shines best. “They’re sad.”

He tilts his head to the side quizzically. “Sad?” he repeats, reaching for his wristband before he can stop to think. If his extensive journaling reads right, your planet’s vegetation follows similar patterns to that of another’s, requiring allotted amounts of sunlight and water to flourish. “How can it be sad?” 

Caught up in his notes, he doesn’t realize you’ve migrated to the other side of the garden now, dutifully picking out more weeds. “Well, it looks sad doesn’t it?” Jungkook glances back again. The tomato stalk is significantly droopy and malformed, smaller than its brethren who sit only a few inches away in direct sunlight. It’s colors are dulled and almost… sad. Huh. How peculiar. 

He chances one glance back at you, deems you far enough, and then channels the entirety of his energy towards the tomato plant. It wiggles a few times, kind of like it’s dancing, before you’re calling his name from the other side. “What’re you doing?” you ask, hand on your hip. Jungkook stills. 

“Um,” he drawls. The plant returns to its sulky state. 

Garbage bag full of weeds, you pass by him with a shake of your head. “Don’t do anything weird to my plants, silly,” you chide. Jungkook huffs, follows behind to take the bag off your hands. You thank him, join him for his walk around the house until he tosses the bag into the garbage can out front. Before he can retort and engage you in a playful argument regarding his superior abilities, you’re crouching down by the spigot out front. It’s making a weird hissing noise that has Jungkook frowning as he walks over. 

Right as he approaches, you make the amateur mistake of turning the handle, water spewing out from the gap between the spigot’s mouth and where it’s supposed to meet the hose. You screech, and Jungkook can’t shut it off fast enough. 

In the end, both of you are drenched. 

“Ugh,” you groan as you walk around the house to the unlocked back door. Jungkook trudges behind, just a teensy bit annoyed by the mud that quickly stains his rubber sandals. “This is so annoying!” you complain loudly, shaking yourself off like Smilodon when it accidentally fell into the sink the other day. “Ruined my day.”

At that Jungkook frowns. He does not want your day to be ruined, especially not by some faulty spigot outside. You were too good for such emotions, too perfect in his eyes. Sadness and the like did not suit you; they had no place ruining your beautiful features. You’re huffily patting yourself down at the back porch now, distress prominent on your features as you most likely consider the second load of laundry you will have to do today. 

The tomato stalk glances at him sadly from the ground, and before Jungkook can stop himself, he’s breathing in deeply and pushing his generally relaxed attitude onto you. You can be mad later, but right now Jungkook doesn’t want to see you sad. It’s effective immediately, your gloominess quickly fading away. You breathe in deeply, eyes falling shut, and when you open them again you’re offering him the most gentle smile he has ever seen. 

And a soaked through shirt that highlights the shape of your red undergarments. Jungkook’s eyes widen, unconsciously flicking down to the sight you present him with, and a different emotion floods his senses. 

It’s quite possibly his biggest mistake. Because while he can easily look away, it takes longer for those emotions to fade, and soon they’re being reflected on you. 

“Wow,” you exhale, shaking your head in confusion because these aren’t your emotions— you probably know they’re his. Jungkook feels terrible instantly. 

“I’m sorry,” he rushes out, scrambling up the steps to guide you inside. Simultaneously, he’s shutting down his influential abilities, scolding himself for slipping up with you like this. You most certainly did not want to feel this way around Jungkook, yet here he was quite literally projecting onto you. “Please, let’s go inside.” 

You nod, jolt when his hand touches the small of your back as he guides you in. “Oh,” you gasp, and Jungkook has to bite his lip to force himself from making the situation worse, from thinking thoughts you would not approve of. “Why— what's happening?” you ask in a breathy tone, lingering by the staircase Jungkook tries to push you up. 

He sighs. “I— I was trying to brighten your mood,” he admits, metaphorical ears pressed against his head like when Smilodon gets scolded for knocking down a plant. “And, um. There was— the, um, sight of your undergarments distracted me for a moment.” You glance down and seemingly become aware for the first time that your bright red bra is on display, shyly covering yourself with your arms. 

“Distracted?” you mumble softly, leaning against the banister of the stairs. Your skin is radiating more heat than Jungkook ever recalls, face demurely turned down towards the floor. He could have sworn he stopped projecting minutes again— why were you still behaving like this? Did he break you? Did he exude more energy than he meant to, accidentally extend the length of the emotions? “I’ll go upstairs now,” you announce quietly, touch his arm almost sensually as you pass by. 

Your skin is warm, that heavenly scent that Jungkook craved rolling off in waves— but he was certain he’d stopped himself before anything became too overwhelming. Were his emotions stronger than he had fooled himself into believing? There was no way he had felt or looked as riled up when he accidentally influenced you. So where exactly were these emotions coming from? What exactly was making you behave this way even after he’d withdrawn his influence? Could it be...

Jungkook watches with wide eyes, almost certain that your behavior, though sparked by his initial slip up, was entirely your own at this point. 

There was a lot of weight behind that. 

The water turns on upstairs, and he has to strain his ears, still his breathing, just for a hint of your sounds. But they’re there, quiet successors to the louder moans you’d let out the other day. They make him shiver, melt against the staircase as his cock twitches in his pants. His body comes alive, something distinctly carnal twitching beneath his skin, blossoming out at the base of his spine. 

And still, as he grinds his hand into his palm, it is not merely the sight of your red undergarments that render Jungkook useless. No, the ghost of your smile at his poorly executed prank follows, brands itself into the inside of his eyelids as he slowly falls apart. 

Was it your own emotions that had made you like that? he wonders, sinking to his knees in the hallway. If you came down right now, you’d certainly catch him. But Jungkook can still hear your muffled cries from upstairs, and furthermore, Jungkook wanted desperately for you to catch him. He knows you won’t, but the idea makes him shiver, has him coming in his bottoms shamefully. 

“What the,” he huffs, sweat trailing down his forehead. His brain replays that look in your eyes. That emotion you displayed that, although it may have been planted by him, was taken by you and magnified. Had you been just as excited by the sight of Jungkook’s wet body as he had yours? And if such was the case, was your attraction to him limited to the physical realm?

He doesn’t want to delude himself, but your words from the other day ring loudly in his ears. Soft, you had called him, for wanting something both physically and emotionally intimate. But you were the same, or so you claimed. 

Was it so wrong for Jungkook to think that ideology applied now?

That night you join Jungkook outside for his routine stargazing. He sits on the porch while you sit on your rocking chair, mugs of hot cocoa in hand as Jungkook retells his adventures across the universe. 

Space is bigger than you thought, with a culture far more complex than Earth’s. It makes you wonder how Jungkook, who has quite literally seen it all, can become so enamored with this place. There’s bigger and better somewhere out there; planets that won’t force terrible traditions on him or task him into ungodly missions. Yet he lingers here, in this quiet space between your garden and your house, head on your lap. 

His hair is soft, almost like silk, and he enjoys having it touched. “I do not wish to leave,” he admits quietly, empty mug long since set aside. You hum, encourage him to elaborate. “The beauty of the universe lies entirely on Planet 43 Z-7.” 

You snort. “No way,” you say, trace your hand down his jawline. Jungkook says nothing of your wandering hands, skin warm to the touch. Some of his markings decorate his neck, curl around the pale skin in perfectly symmetrical swoops. They creep beneath the hem of his shirt, and you wonder what they look like down there. 

You flush those thoughts away, that afternoon’s events still fresh in your mind. From your understanding of the events, Jungkook had been excited at the sight of your body, so he obviously had to hold some attraction towards you. But how much of that was purely physical and how much was emotional? 

“I want to have your last name,” he announces suddenly. You choke, breath caught in your throat from the randomness of the statement. Your reaction makes Jungkook pull away from your touch, stare at you with wide eyes like you do him. 

“I— what?” you stammer, having gained back your composure. Or at least some of it. “Jungkook, I don’t think you know what that means.”

He frowns, shuffles around until he’s facing you, and lays his head across your lap again. This time, those purple eyes that dance with nebulas and stardust zero in on you. His hair tickles your bare thighs, makes you unconsciously press them together when his warm breath fans across your skin. “You amaze me,” he murmurs, eyes glazed. “I have never seen a being like you, who lives so far off from society, thrive in their own bubble— is it too much for me to want to live like you? Be with you?”

“Huh?” you ask, ever so eloquently. 

Jungkook smiles, turns his face to hide it against you. Pink lips brush against your skin, your hands unconsciously shooting into his hair to guide him away. When his head rolls back, he’s got this rather melancholy look on his face. “The beauty of the universe lies entirely on Planet 43 Z-7,” he says again, “and I am looking right at her.” 

Your face burns. 

Heart hammering in your chest, palms sweaty, you don’t know what to say. He looks at you with that vibrant gaze, drinks you in like you’re the finest of wines and your heart absolutely cannot handle it. Your brain fumbles for a response but by then Jungkook is standing up, head tilted downwards cutely as he observes you. One hand in his, thumb gently swiping over your knuckles. “I would like to show you every expression of adoration possible, __,” he murmurs, presses a kiss to your knuckles before disappearing back inside. 

You stay outside, turning his words inside and out, backwards and forwards, until you deduce that Jungkook of Sixam most definitely harbored the same feelings for you as you did for him. It’s odd, because it is exactly what you want but the idea scares you to death. The last time you let a man into your life under a similar guise you ended up wasting years of your life, clinging to this grand finale you never got. And now this foreign being was proclaiming his feelings for you, possibly propositioning you for the same thing. 

Did you want Jungkook? Yes, undoubtedly yes. He was free from the shackles of tradition that had held you down so long, didn’t believe in this twisted notion of your body being “sacred.” He was a breath of fresh air, unlike anyone you’ve ever met before (although part of that was due to his alien heritage).

However, he was not free of flaws, and perhaps that is what entices you more.

Jungkook, though he looked and spoke like the perfect man, was a being of his own, with struggles of his own. He too had his own handful of painful memories, toxic ideologies that followed him around. But Jungkook was willing to learn, to change. And you admired him for it. 

Tip-toeing back inside, you find the house shrouded in darkness. The steady tick of the grandfather clock lessens the rapid beating of your heart. Jungkook is sitting on the living room couch, legs pulled to his chest. Muscle memory has you reaching out for the top of his head like always, ready to pat his fluffy hair as if you hadn’t just spent the last twenty minutes outside doing just that. He turns around just as your fingers touch his soft strands, purple eyes meeting yours. You trace your hand down the side of his face, knuckles brushing over his cheekbones; he puckers his lips, bestows a second tender smooch against you. 

“I like when you do that,” he says, voice unexpectedly loud in the otherwise silent house. As he speaks, he shifts to the side, arm thrown over the back of the couch to look at you completely. You swipe your thumb over his bottom lip and he gulps. “Makes me crazy.” 

You chuckle, releasing him to round the couch. Jungkook’s got this sweet smile on his face, hand outstretched for you. When you take it, he tugs you onto the couch, flush beside him. Your thigh is practically thrown over his, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders. You heart flutters and you can no longer look him in the eye. 

But that’s okay because Jungkook can. He ducks down, dark hair tickling your skin as his breath ghosts over your lips. “May I?” he asks softly, nose bumping against yours. “May I have the honor of pleasuring you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, answering with a tiny nod that makes his lower lip brush against yours teasingly. “I-If I am suitable,” you mumble, tingles spreading all over your body. 

Jungkook smiles, pretty and bright, as he turns his head to slot your mouths together. “No,” he says, “if I am suitable. You are more than enough.” Lips brush against yours, shaky breath meets yours, and then he’s kissing you. Slow yet suave, carefully molding against you as if he is afraid of breaking you. His lips are like two soft pillows, moving against yours in a practiced rhythm that makes you tremble against him. Every bit the measly virgin, but Jungkook likes you just so. 

He pulls away with a pop, his figure shadowed by the darkness of the room. But his eyes, purple irises, glow brightly. Like two pools of cosmic dust swirling around his dark pupils. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this before, but you hardly saw Jungkook in the dark anyway. He hides them too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he leans in again. 

The second time, there’s a faint flick of his tongue against your bottom lip. The action makes you gasp quietly, lips parting for a fraction of a second. But Jungkook is quick, slips his tongue past your lips. It’s lewd; his breath mingles with yours, tongue pushing against yours. Slick and dirty, spit traveling between your two mouths, but Jungkook makes sure you’re okay, sinfully wrapping his lips around your tongue when you get too brave. A moan escapes you, fingers squeezing around his. 

Jungkook squeezes back, pushes forward until you’re pressed against the back cushions of the couch. “This okay?” he husks, low-lidded eyes meeting yours when he pulls away. You nod, words caught in your throat. Jungkook’s gaze lasers in on your mouth, and he seems to have an internal debate before eventually pulling away to kiss your neck. 

You tilt your head back, choppy exhales creeping out from between your lips as he kisses down the column of your neck, untangling his hand from yours to press against your hip instead. It’s with a devastatingly slow speed that he eventually slinks away, finds himself kneeling between you on the floor with hands dancing over the tops of your thighs. Your heart is beating a thousand miles in your chest, threatening to rip itself right out when he meets your eyes a second time. 

He pushes your legs apart, not once looking away as he gently encourages you to raise one. Lips pressed against your knee, slowly trailing down the skin of your thigh. Your hand squeezes at the couch cushions. Jungkook pulls a startled yelp from you when he tugs at the backs of your knees, makes you slump down the couch with your legs perfectly spread out for him, feet flat on the floor. Then he’s back to kissing you, languidly pressing smooch after smooch against your scorching skin until he’s reaching the apex of your thighs, stilling once to look your way. 

“Go ahead,” you choke out, hands clutched over your chest, as if that’ll keep your heart from up and running away. Jungkook takes your admission and moves on, puckered lips meeting your mound through your clothing. It’s the first time you’ve ever had someone else so close to your most sensitive areas, and rightly so, you whimper. 

“Shh,” he soothes, thumb pressing against your hip as he carefully hikes one of your legs over his shoulder. You’re quivering like a leaf, lower lip bitten raw between your teeth as you watch him move between your legs. “I don’t wish to hurt you,” Jungkook murmurs. 

Another press of his mouth against you, this time right over where your bud hides, and the sensation makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers tighten around the waistband of your shorts, take your underwear with them when he begins pulling them down your hips. You push yourself up briefly, let him slide them down your legs and bare yourself to him for the first time. 

Your cheeks flood with warmth, hands unconsciously reaching to pull your shirt down, but Jungkook catches you. Fingers tangle with yours, warm breath fanning over your slick folds. Unconsciously, you tense up at his proximity, the stark realization that this was the moment you had waited for for a good chunk of your life suddenly hitting you. Jungkook seems to notice you crawl inside your head, drawing you back with a squeeze around your hand, luminous eyes meeting yours. 

“If you need me to stop, I will,” he reassures you.

The blood is rushing to your ears, his words nearly lost in the madness. “Aren’t you scared?” you ask quietly, voice wobbly, holding his hands so tightly you’re surprised he doesn’t complain.

Jungkook shakes his head. “No,” he answers. “Would you like to know how I feel?”

Hesitantly, you nod. Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, but the little triangle markings beneath his eyes begin to glow. Like fireflies in the dark, two little lights that intensify as he exhales.

And then, suddenly, you’re flooded with a new wave of emotions, similar to yours but not. They feel like yours, but are distinctly his, make you arch against the cushions with a soft groan. 

At the forefront, lust that swarms your senses and makes your body melt into the couch beneath you. It makes you shiver, nipples peaked beneath your top as his feelings and their intensity grow on you. It feels like drowning, like swallowing a thick and sticky substance that lingers in your throat and refuses to go away. It’s how he feels about you at this moment, so strongly it could drown him. 

So overwhelmed with that sensation alone, you almost don’t recognize the second emotion that Jungkook takes and pours into you. 

Warm and comforting, like being embraced by a thousand doves, kissed by a swarm of butterflies. It’s different from the first, doesn’t tap directly into your physical body, but wraps around your heart, creeps into your thoughts. Until you’re rolling your eyes back open and meeting his, the feeling so plainly spelled out across his features. 

Sheer and utter adoration. 

“Oh,” you breathe, face scorching to the touch following the emotions Jungkook’s just revealed to you. 

He grins, shy, and squeezes your hand. “What do you want to do?”

Biting your lip, you take initiative and hook your knee over his shoulder, the same way he had shown you just moments prior. “Please,” you murmur, “show me more.”

And Jungkook does.

A soft kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose running along your skin teasingly. And then he’s faced with your puffy lips, pink skin slick with arousal. Jungkook sighs softly, tilts his head as if he’s analyzing his next course of action, and then carefully places his mouth against you. 

“Mmmh,” you whimper, hips instinctively bucking into the touch, never having felt such intense pleasure before. Jungkook doesn’t mind as he languidly kisses your folds, eyes shut as he loses himself in the motions. The first swipe of his tongue makes you twitch, arms flailing but Jungkook holds them down, entwined fingers pressed against the couch. 

His tongue is an entity of its own, wet muscle pressing and licking at your most sensitive areas like it was made specifically for this. Never mind talking, Jungkook’s tongue was made to lap at your pussy like this. He licks a long stripe up from your quivering hole to your engorged clit, curling at the end as if you were nothing more but a sweet for him to mindlessly play with. 

Your muscles clench up, the leg thrown around his shoulder unconsciously pulling him closer until his nose is pressed flush against your clit. Jungkook breathes in deeply, moans softly but it sends earth-shattering vibrations up your core until you’re a whimpering mess. “O-Oh,” you cry, sweat clinging to your skin as Jungkook continues lapping at your folds. 

He releases one hand, uses it to push your other leg further away to properly slot himself against you. You take the opportunity to wildly reach for him, grabby hands lost in the silky waves on his head as you urge him closer to where you need him most. You’re not even sure where that is anymore, your clit or your entrance, but Jungkook switches between the two just fine. 

That warm tongue prods at your entrance, tip sinking inside just enough to make you gasp. It’s a new experience for you, someone’s tongue touching and stroking you there, and it feels like an entirely new door opens from that action alone. You whimper his name, dig your nails across his scalp like maybe he’ll grant you a reprieve and pull away. But you don’t really want that, and so you’re happy when he stays where he is. 

The hand that had rested against the juncture of your hip glides up, lays flat over your mound with his thumb idly swirling around your clit. The combination of his tongue breaching your hole and his fingers playing along your clit makes you spasm. “Wait,” you sob, the muscles in your thighs twitching as he licks away. “I-I’m gonna—“

An overpowering wave of relief floods your senses shortly before that last syllable can escape your lips; everything goes tight and then suddenly you’re on a cloud, cum spilling from your heat and onto his waiting tongue. Jungkook licks it all up, slurps loudly against your clit as the last waves of your orgasm run their course. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing up your navel, t-shirt pushed away as he goes. 

When he reaches your face, you’re quite embarrassed to find the area around his mouth to be glistening with your juices. “You’re incredible,” he says, easygoing smile on his lips. But there’s something hard and heavy against you, snuggled between your thighs, that makes your face heat up all over again. 

You can’t find the words to respond, and lose the opportunity when Jungkook captures your lips with his again. He’s more assertive this time around, roughly pushing against you until you’re certain you’ll bruise. But it feels good, makes you wrap your hands around him as Jungkook grinds down against you. When he pulls away, he’s got this dark look on his face, out of place against such bright eyes. 

He says nothing as his hands creep up your waist, push your t-shirt and bra out of the way, until he’s cupping your breasts in his palms. Experienced hands massage them thoroughly, roll the soft skin between his fingers. His mouth is against yours again, tongues pressed together; Jungkook groans and the sound shoots straight between your thighs. He pinches a nipple between his fingers and you whimper, break away from his kiss to hide your face against his shoulder.

His cock is heavy against your folds, the thick material of his pants slowly stimulating you again. The cotton brushes against you, most certainly picks up your wetness as it goes, and Jungkook lets it as he continues to grind down against you with his hands on your tits. Your hands tear their way down his back, fist the material of his shirt in your hands. “Off, off,” you plead, desperate to feel more of him against you.

Jungkook complies, sitting up to yank his shirt over his head. You were right about his markings, dark swoops and circles that decorate his chest and abdomen before tapering down around his waist. Your mouth salivates at the sight, blindly reaching for your own clothes as if one look away will make him disappear. 

He doesn’t.

In fact, the removal of both your tops only makes Jungkook hungrier, completely abandoning your lips to suck your breast into his mouth instead. “Jungk— fuck,” you wail, slipping further down the couch as you lose yourself in Jungkook’s embrace. His teeth nibble at your swollen bud, roll the sensitive skin around before pulling off with a wet pop. 

Your breath jumps when he reaches behind you, corded arm locking around your waist as he repositions the two of you, unsatisfied with the previous position. He lifts you up with his undoubtedly superior strength, one palm beneath your thigh as he plops you down across the couch more comfortably, head neatly resting on a throw pillow. 

Your heart is in your throat, desperate to memorize the man before you, inked skin, lean and meaty, vibrant violet eyes that focus solely on you. Before he can join you on the couch, Jungkook steps away, tucks his thumbs into his waistband and swiftly removes them. His engorged cock, bigger than any you’ve seen in any erotic video— and that was saying a lot —springs up against his navel, flaming tip glaring right at you. Your pussy quivers at the sight. 

“Come here,” he husks out as he moves towards you. You welcome him with open arms, a soft groan of his name against his lips as he shoves his tongue past. His hands are everywhere now; one squeezes at your breast, hand molded to the flesh, while the other runs along the underside of your thigh, guides it over his waist. And another tickles around your navel, soft—

You shriek, eyes snapping open as you tug Jungkook over you as a shield. “What was that?” you heave, wide eyes roving over the dark living room, like maybe you’ll find Smilodon traversing the carpet and it was his silky tail that came too close. 

But Smilodon doesn’t usually appear at night, nor is there anything else in the living room with you and Jungkook. Your heart hammers in your chest, carefully meeting his dark gaze until something thin and distinctively alive appears over his shoulder. Another scream tears itself from your lips.

“Hey, hey,” Jungkook shushes, pulls away to cup your face in his hands. “Forgive me,” he says tenderly, “we are so similar, I forget you do not possess extra arms.”

You pale. “E-Extra arms?” you choke, eyes focused on the thin ‘arm’ that slinks out from behind Jungkook, almost screeching again when a second one appears on the opposite side. And then a third, a fourth. 

It is no arm, but rather… a tentacle? Sans the weird suction cups. They’re thin little things, no thicker than his wrist, that dance behind him as if they have a mind of their own. They move as if suspended in water, soft lilac skin tenderly touching yours. You shiver, its smooth skin odd against your supple flesh. Jungkook relaxes, but draws them back anyway. “Forgive me,” he says again, taking your hand in his to press a peck against it. Your heart flutters at the gesture that was slowly driving you insane. “I shall keep them at bay.”

You nod shakily, but cannot deny the curiosity that picks at you when they slink back into the base of his spine, blend seamlessly against his skin. “What… what do they do?” you ask tentatively. 

Jungkook hums as he descends upon you, featherlight kisses against your shoulder and up your neck. “Hmm? They help me out,” he explains mindlessly, pulling you flush against his cock again. A moan tears itself from your throat, eyes fluttering shut as you force yourself to focus on the moment again. 

But your hands unconsciously wander down his spine as he kisses you, circle the skin where your swear they had to have disappeared beneath, until Jungkook is pulling away with a confused expression on his face. “Would you like to see them again?” he asks quizzically, sweat forming along his hairline. 

You cannot play it off any longer; meekly, you nod. “I— they were interesting,” you admit in a quiet voice, nervously twiddling your fingers over your chest. 

Jungkook says nothing for a second, until he’s lightly chuckling and pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Okay,” he concedes, and goes back to rolling his hips against yours. 

About to protest, the words are robbed from your throat when something soft and blunt tickles your thigh. “Oh,” you shudder, prevailing through the initial shock as Jungkook’s ‘arm’ slides around the diameter of your thigh to brush against your cunt. It’s silky and smooth, pushes against your lips until it’s emerging past them, slipping inside of you.

You gasp, head lolling backwards as the sensation gets to you. It feels the same as your fingers do when you’re in the shower, but it moves differently, gauging your reactions as it curls within your walls. Jungkook muffles a low chuckle against your chin, kisses spread over you until his tongue is back down your throat.

“Feels good?” he asks, hot mouth against yours. You nod jerkily, hands digging into his biceps. Another appendage tickles around your waist, dips into your navel and makes you giggle. It’s a sound that’s frankly out of place amongst your moans and whimpers, but it makes Jungkook smile. It eventually moves away, continuing its soft caresses elsewhere. 

The one that plays in your pussy has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, jaw slack. Perfect for Jungkook who pushes and prods until his saliva is dripping down your throat, catching in the corners of your lips. It impossibly fattens inside of you, makes you choke just as a different one dances around your neck. “I— I,” you stutter, boneless beneath him as the soft tip traces around the column of your neck tenderly, lovingly. 

There’s so many different areas to focus on: one rubs comfortingly beneath your breast, while another fucks into your cunt. The contrast has your head spinning, unsure of where to look. 

There’s something about the one inside of you that makes you feel so sticky and wet, more so than before. Like it’s oozing something out, making the glide against your walls smoother than before. It makes your body tingle, sends a feeling down your spine that you’re almost certain isn’t normal. 

At the same time, there’s a brush along your thigh again, a tight coil around the flesh of your skin tightly that encourages your legs apart. More room for Jungkook to squeeze in. It wraps around you, slithers past its sibling and prods against your ass. Your heart skips a beat, buck into Jungkook’s embrace as it slips between your cheeks— you gasp. It releases that same substance that makes everything so wet. You tremble at the touch, body already so overwhelmed. 

Your attention is snatched away before anything can happen, Jungkook tugging you closer until the ridges of his cock are running along your folds, each push sending his goddamn tentacle deeper inside of you. You moan, hands shakily traversing his skin until you’re cupping his face in your palms. “More,” you hoarsely whisper, dazed eyes meeting his. “Please.”

Jungkook nods, presses one more kiss against your lips before shuffling around. The appendage inside of you swiftly recoils, has you shivering from the way it slips out of you so easily. As it finally emerges from your folds, you find it’s slick with cum and something slightly pink, sparkly and wet as if it’s got precum of its own. The sight amazes you, makes you want to touch it. Before you can, it’s moving again. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t go away, doesn’t return to hide within Jungkook’s body, but wraps around his cock tightly. Purple tendril against engorged skin, makes him sigh at the squeeze. 

He holds the base of his cock, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek as he regards you with an unrecognizable look. One hand on your thigh, fingers gripping tightly even before he’s done anything. “Tell me you want this,” he exhales, “please?” 

You nod hurriedly, hands reaching for his hips to urge him closer. “Want this,” you assure him, quiver when the head of his cock presses against your folds. Bigger than your fingers, bigger than that damned appendage, and it was going inside of you. “Want this so bad,” you whimper, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. A squeeze around your breasts, a flick against your nipples. It’s not Jungkook’s hands, and that fact makes you shiver. 

They curl around your breasts, frame the mounds gently before the flatted tips meet your nipples, tease them with featherlight nudge. 

Eased by the certainty of your words, Jungkook relaxes. He places a hand on your hip, the other still holding his cock as he lines himself up with your throbbing entrance. You’re so wet, dripping in your own cum and whatever that tentacle released, thighs slippery and shiny. The anticipation in your chest swells, pushes against your rib cage until you’re afraid it’ll break. The little markings beneath his eyes flash and suddenly it’s gone, replaced with a sense of comfort that only doubles when he flashes you a tiny smile.

The first press of his cock makes your back arch, has you knocking every throw pillow off the couch as he slowly eases his way in. “Oh god—“ you sob, the sudden intrusion being questioned by every muscle in your body. Immediately, two of his tentacles snap forward, release their soft grip on your neck and their wrap around your breasts to caress up your sides, smooth ends practically kissing your skin with their soft nudges. 

They by no means lessen the pain, but their butterfly touches are a nice distraction that tickles your skin, makes you whimper softly as Jungkook slowly sinks into you. 

Jungkook ducks over you, tip of his nose against yours. “Breathe for me,” he instructs, even though his breath is labored against yours. One appendage cups your cheek, curls softly around your ear to hold your head still— you feel so spoiled with all the attention. You make an effort, breathe in swiftly through your nose as Jungkook pushes in deeper.

Slowly, the discomfort fades away. It melts and in its wake you’re left with a dull numbing sensation that starts in your toes and magnifies as it reaches your ears. It grows until the weight of his cock inside of you has you drooling, eyes unfocused as you watch Jungkook push himself to the hilt, the ridges of the tentacle wrapped around his cock making you jolt with every push. 

At the same time as his cock thrusts inside of you, a sneaky little thing continues it’s dance between your cheeks, pokes and kisses at your hole like it’s testing you. It is, really, because you've never had anything up your ass before— up until a few moments ago, you had barely had anything in your pussy. 

This was your first time, yet two seperate holes were begging to be filled, clenching tightly at Jungkook kisses along your chest, hands wound beneath the small of your back. The playful tentacle near your behind does just that— plays until you gently reach back for it, trembling hands giving it the go ahead it needs to finally plunge itself within you. Like an excited little being, it flutters against your hand a soft, kiss-like press against your palm before returning to its favored spot. 

It chooses the perfect moment to press in, takes advantage of Jungkook’s first few slow thrusts to slip its way inside. A loud moan tears itself from your throat, and Jungkook joins along. “I-I’m sorry,” he pants, mouth against yours. “I-I just want to feel you.”

You shake him off, body twitching from the utter fullness you felt, the weight in between your folds and your ass that moves in opposing strokes. His cock, wrapped in those bulging ridges, pushes in just as the tentacle in your rear pulls out, and the sensation is enough to make you whimper and sob. 

It feels good, amazing even, and you almost can’t believe it’s happening. Jungkook’s lips slot against yours, slow and lazy as he lets your body grow familiar with the stretch. He kisses you until the cat-like grip you have on his shoulders weakens, replaced with wandering hands that trail down his spine. The base of his spine where his protrusions appear is unique, makes him buck against you when you wrap your hands around one appendage.

“S-Sensitive,” he says as an apology, never mind the fact you want him desperately to fuck into you like that again. You voice such thoughts and Jungkook groans against your skin. “Really?” He chokes out, “I can move?”

One nod and then he’s off, for real this time. 

He’s slow at first, like he’s hesitant about hurting you, but you tuck one leg around him, pull him closer until he’s forced deeper inside of you, and from there everything is a downward spiral. You forget Jungkook of Sixam is superior for more than just one reason, harsh reminder given in the strong snap of his hips that would have otherwise sent you flying off the couch if that same strength wasn’t channeled into the arms he held you with. 

You reach for his hair, desperate to feel that comforting silk between your fingers, but then there’s something wrapping around your wrists. It pins your hands down, twists around your wrists twice before snaking up and curling along your fingers. Like it wants to hold your hand, wants to fill the spaces for Jungkook. The thought makes you burn, insides a boiling mess as he fucks into you, hands held down above your head.

“Jungkook,” you sob, squirming in his hold. It’s like whenever you move, there’s something there, holding you down or fucking you senseless. He responds with a grunt, roughly thrusting into you over and over until all you can manage is a series of hiccups. 

The ridges around his cock, the added thickness lended to him by his extra appendage, has every shove past your lips sending tingles like an ascending xylophone shooting throughout your body. The rhythmic stretches make you huff like a dog against him, brain fuzzy and overwhelmed. 

At the same time as he delivers killer grind after grind, another arm, the one that had been left out of the fray, slithers around your chest, looping twice around your frame and caging your breasts between them. Like bondage, except it’s Jungkook’s own body holding you down. 

You don’t think about the absurdity of it too much, couldn’t anyway. Your brain is a scrambled mess of Jungkook’s lips and incandescent eyes, lost in the purple galaxies and stars he holds, slowly slipping away from reality with each brutal thrust he gives. His name tumbles from your lips, and yours from his. He holds you like you’ll slip away, sweaty skin pulling you impossibly closer with each roll of his hips.

The thick appendage buried within your ass makes you squirm. It’s a tight fit, one you don’t get too stuck on because for every reprieve from its maniac thrusts you are met with the equally ferocious slam of Jungkook’s cock. So it stays in the back of your mind, this curling tentacle that stretches the tight rim of your ass apart. 

You were stuffed to the brim, eyes rolling back as you struggled to keep up. A soft brush along your jawline makes you gasp, before your mouth is tentatively filled with something soft and pulsing. Oh, you would die, you think, mindlessly sucking around the tentacle squeezed between your lips. It fattens in your mouth, pushes roughly against your tongue in rhythm with Jungkook’s cock. You cough, gag even, but it doesn’t move away. It drips a thick substance down your throat, disgustingly sweet. 

“Please, please,” he pants, quiet and lost among your own higher-pitched moans. Your leg hikes itself further up, accidentally brushes at the base of where two of his tentacles protrude, and Jungkook jolts against you. His cock presses so deep into your walls, you swear you feel him kiss your cervix. “__,” he pants, tongue lapping at the skin of your neck, picking up the sweat and replacing it with his thick saliva. “Be mine, please.”

Your heart pounds with the beat of a marching band's pace, loud thundering that competes against the slapping of Jungkook’s skin against yours. You whimper around the weight in your mouth, the idea he places in your head only fueling that lifelong dream of yours. Your grip around the appendages that hold your wrists down tightens, its faint heartbeat-like pulse felt between your fingers. 

“Let me be yours,” Jungkook moans, pulls out once only to slam his cock past your folds, hold himself there as your brain scrambles to rewire itself. As he says this, your mouth is freed, saliva and that sticky wet substance sloppily splattering across your lips and chin at the rather harsh exit. “And you will be mine.”

“Yes, yes!” you choke, dribbling drool down your chin.

It ends too soon.

Jungkook reaches a hand down, thumb feeling for your clit, but he’s pressed so tightly against you, it takes a second before the rough pad makes contact. That simple swipe, one half circle, is enough to make you unravel. “J-Jungkook,” you wail, biting down against his shoulder, “I’m—“

Your orgasm swallows you whole, his tentacle in your ass joining alongside you. It bursts inside of you, makes your ass leak with cum when it finally pulls out. 

“I’ve got you,” he shudders, stills when your pussy clenches down around him, creamy pleasure dripping down around his cock. Your cries fill the air, body falling slack against the couch as you struggle to recover. Your head is a foggy mess, clouded by the slow snap of Jungkook’s hips as he reaches his arousal. Each push against your folds feels even more intense now, overstimulated walls fluttering wildly around him as his cock slips in. 

His body stiffens and he swiftly pulls out, every ridge of his cock sucked back by your pussy, and when he finally frees himself— from your clenching walls and his tightly-gripping tentacle—he spills over your abdomen. Sticky and pink, like the strawberry lube you keep in your drawer, except its come out of Jungkook as a result of your rump in the sheets. 

As quickly as his body locked up, it slumps just as fast, heavy muscles and long limbs crashing down over you before you can react. 

“Jungkook—“

The sun shines in through the front window, wakes him from his slumber slowly and then all at once. He accidentally shifts into a patch of sunshine, the blinding light irritating his eyes until Jungkook is forced awake. His body aches but has never felt better, a weird sense of relaxation flooding his senses. For a moment, he is confused.

Eyes scan over the room, purple irises carefully calculating every bit of information until he catches sight of Smilodon’s furry tail and the memories of last night come swarming back in. He sits up quickly, whirling around for any glimpse of you, only to find you’re nowhere in sigh—

“Morning.” A small hand atop of his head, fingers stroking against his scalp. Instantly, Jungkook melts into the touch. 

You walk past him and into the kitchen, where you get to work making the usual breakfast for you and Jungkook. He watches you from the couch, naked beneath the blanket you’ve so graciously covered him with. The sun leaks into the kitchen, paints you in soft shades of orange as you amble around the area. 

The scent of hot cocoa fills the air, calling him to the space behind you after he dresses. “Good morning,” he says shyly, presses a kiss against your shoulder. Hesitantly, he lets his hands slide around your waist, lock over your navel. You don’t push him away, simply pat the side of his head as Jungkook snuggles into you. 

You don’t speak about last night and neither does he. You eat eggs for breakfast and Jungkook playfully knocks his foot against yours beneath the table. “Don’t play footsies with me,” you laugh. Jungkook quite likes footsies. 

Morning chores are skipped, pushed off in favor of sitting in front of the couch. You sit beside him, flush against his side, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. The projection box tells him about the weather, says something about a stock market, but other than that, it is relatively quiet. 

There is no mission to complete, no tradition to uphold. It is just Jungkook in this new and not as scary world. The mailman always visits, and Smilodon shows his face every now and then. It is a routine he adores, but not as much as the Human at his side.

He doesn’t remember taking his headpiece off until it beeps from its spot on the coffee table, three distinctive chirps that signal an incoming call from the Higher Sixamian Court.

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

[shakespearesdrugdealer]

Just friends

Minors DNI.

Pairings: College AU. College!Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (fingering), swearing, is fluff a warning?

A/N: Okayy, so this a college AU with a friends with benefits dynamic. I wanted to make this a slow burn so I'll see where it leads lol.

Enjoy!

He was kissing your neck and you were adjusting yourself under him to allow him to move further down. He didn’t smell like himself; his cologne was mixed with someone else’s. You were supposed to be okay with that though, because you guys were just friends after all. You were there for each other while doing homework, working on labs together, going bowling on the weekends, grabbing coffee and when the teenage hormonal urge came to indulge in each other’s body; well, a month ago you agreed to that too.

“Look, despite the movies, I think it could work,” Gojo proposed.

“What makes you think that?” you narrow your eyes at him from across the lab counter you guys were sitting at, trying to compile a report you messed up twice by now.

Chemistry was hard. But Gojo was making it harder for both of you right now by asking unnecessary questions to push a few boundaries in your friendship.

“The fact that you are pretty objective, and that we are both have needs,” he said, adding a playful drawl on the last word.

“No,” you pointed out firmly, hesitating to meet the eyes that were set at looking into yours. “You have needs, I on the other hand would like to finish this report and go to sleep.”

“See, that could easily be turned into a better end to your day if you go to sleep with me,” he countered, putting his hand on the calculator you were punching numbers into; forcing you to lift your head up and look at him with a frustrated but amused expression.

“Is this really the time to talk about this?” you huffed, trying to free your hand while trying hard and failing at controlling the heat spreading to your face.

“No time better than the present lovie.”

“Not your lovie,” you emphasized, sitting back onto your chair and giving up at the notion of finishing your lab. When Gojo is being stubborn about something, there were not a lot of ways to solve the problem but give in and listen; like right now, with his absurd idea.

But was it really absurd though? You guys have been friends for a good while now, 2 years to be exact. You liked how he could go on for ages talking about the ridiculous things he did at college that day and you wouldn’t mind listening because it allowed you to see the day outside of your own world. Maybe it was because your life lacked a little chaos and his lacked the calm and organization of yours; but you worked well with each other. He dragged you out of the dorm on days you got obsessed with completing your readings and you were grateful for the sun that you got. You also dragged him back into the dorm on nights you knew were meant for rest, or studying instead of getting wasted with the kids who had already completed their tests for that week.

“Look, all I’m saying is, let’s try it out, and if it fails…” he stretched out of his chair like he was doing some kind of tedious work (like the fucking report you guys were supposed to write). “Well, at least we will know where that road leads to.”

His standing figure made you look so small you wanted to punch him in the throat. But you also felt safe?

It’s not like you were completely against the idea. I mean, you knew him pretty well; you knew what kind of a person he was. You understood that he makes a great friend, but he would probably break your heart and chuck it in the bag of broken hearts he carries around with him. And let’s not lie, he’s hot. You’ve seen how his shirt rides up when he leans back against the pillows on your bed on the days he drops by your dorm to annoy you. You also hate how you can’t stop yourself from staring at how his eyes widen and sparkle when he finds something interesting in the material he’s reading when you guys are studying together. You knew there was a thin line between being his friend, working well together, him being so fucking attractive and you falling in love with him, God forbid.

Well, maybe you could walk that thin line. “If we fail, we never talk about it again okay?” you started, framing the rules of your relationship in your head.

“Yup,” he agreed, liking where this conversation was headed.

“There are going to be rules of course.”

“Mhhm.”

“No talk of this outside the two of us.” You look at him dead serious.

“Yep yep.”

“And you have to stop being so fucking annoying when we do what we do,” you added.

“Meh, no promises,” he shrugged.

“Okay, well, it looks like we’ve come to some kind of an agreement even though this report is not done,” you sighed closing your book at the realization that the time you signed up for the lab had elapsed.

“Hey,” Gojo said, clearing his throat. Was he nervous? You glanced at him while trying to gather your things into your bag.

“Do you wanna test the agreement?”

“What?” you pause your actions at the offer. “Now?”

“I mean, I see nothing stopping us,” he reasoned. “And we can finish the report at the dorm too.”

“How do you plan for these bribes to work with me?” you smile at his offer to work in exchange of doing the dirty.

“What can I say lovie, I’m a bit of a genius when it comes to being a slut.” Only Gojo could imbue so much confidence into being a slut.

“Again,” you said, “not your lovie.” You push your bag into his chest as a sign of agreement and head towards the lab door. He caught up with you in no time, cradling your bag in his arms and smiling stupidly wide like he won at an arcade game at the fair. You didn’t know if what was going to follow was a disaster or the start of something better than anything you two ever knew.

He didn’t even wait for you guys to settle into your room or talk about how your relationship was going to work before throwing your bag onto the bed and backing you up against your door and pressing his lips against yours to let you know how the next few hours of your day were going to go. And oh my god, they were going to go so fucking good.

“Is this okay?” he asked, pulling away from your lips and twisting the lock on your door with his free hand.

“Yeah,” you squeaked, embarrassed and a little confused at how quickly this day was taking a whole new turn.

“Wanna say that again?” he teased swiping his thumb across your cheek while tilting your head to look at you properly.

“Just-” you swallowed. You’ve never seen his eyes look like this, even after all this time with him. They had their usual playful glint in them, the kind that normally makes you want to shove him through a locker (not that you haven’t tried) but right now there was something more. Something that made you want to run but also give into his touch and the patterns he was drawing on the small of your back with his other hand. “Just…take it slow okay?” you ask, hoping he understood that you hadn’t done something like this in a while now.

He knew that though. You talked about your first times over a drunk Friday evening and that was when he figured you hadn’t done as much as him and you also figured that Gojo was a threat to womankind.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied, taking your hands into his and leading you towards the bed. His eyes never left yours and you weren’t done tasting his lips just yet, so you stare at them with unabashed desire. “Oh, my eyes are up here love,” he said, pausing his movements to take in this side of you he hadn’t seen before.

“Shut up,” you retort, a little annoyed at how quickly he had you feeling so hot and bothered. You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your tippy-toes to pull him down to meet your lips as he groans into the kiss in surprise. You don’t know what it was that got into you, but you pushed him to walk to the edge of the bed as your tugged at the hem of his shirt to let him know you wanted it on the floor. He was breathing hard too by this point; his hand cupping your neck and the other finding its way under your shirt. He laughs at your attempt to lift his shirt and removes his hands from your body for a moment to take his shirt off. Your eyes widen at the view you were presented with. Your hands reach for his chest but he grabs your wrists, tilting his head in amusement. “Kinda unfair if yours doesn’t come off too no?”

And that’s how you found his hands slipping under your shirt and around your back, leaving goosebumps at his touch. He unhooked your bra and lifted the set of clothing from your body, leaving you hazy from all the kisses that he was planting along your jawline and neck. He pulled your hands that were stroking his chest to interlock with his fingers as he used your momentary confusion to push you onto your bed and hover over you in one clumsy but simultaneously smooth maneuver.

He was reveling in this side of you that you were showing. It was chaotic, it was vulnerable and most of all, it was so beautiful. His hands release yours as he finds interest in playing with your breasts. He takes hold of your left breast and squeezes it as you whine and twist your head into the pillows at his teasing and the lack of attention that was being paid to your areas down south. You pull at the white strands of his hair you had slid your fingers into and he groans into your skin making you shudder. He opens his lips to the side of your neck that you gave space to and bites down as a response to your own roughness. The moan that escapes your mouth makes you want to hide in embarrassment as he chuckles into the mark he was leaving.

Your chest was heaving, as your hands grab at the sheets next to you instead to find some kind of stability among the fireworks that his touch was leaving. “Gojo-” you started, lifting your head from the pillow, to see him smirking at you. He moves down towards your stomach and thighs, making sure to kiss the curves and edges and taking note of the areas he kissed and you moaned at. “I will kill you if you don’t stop teasing.” You drop back onto the pillow again, not being able to hold for too long as his fingers stroke your inner thighs, taking off the last article of clothing you had on.

He leans forward, looking at you with your eyes fluttering shut and fidgeting around his hold on you. “Aw, cute,” he says, stroking your thighs and brushing his fingertips around your clit, not touching it but making it more sensitive than you would have ever imagined. “You can still threaten me looking like this.” You push your head deeper into the pillows at the sensation of the butterfly kisses he was placing on your inner thighs and sucking at the sensitive skin to leave his marks yet again.

“I swear to God-” you plead, threading your hands into his hair again. “Patience, pretty,” he says, lifting his head from between your legs to allow his fingers to take their place and rub at your clit in tiny circles. You gasp and have the urge to shut your legs but he has one of his legs secured between yours and you really wanted him to keep going too. “Think you’re ready for me?” he asks, running his index and middle finger along the outer area of your slits.

you nod at him, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You were getting hazy from circles he was drawing on your clit with his middle finger and moving it down to tease your entrance.

“Words, love,” he says, shifting to lean above you and place a kiss to your lips and chest that was heaving roughly by now.

“I-I’m ready,” you softly reply, looking into his eyes and then at his smile that reminded you that he was your safety and also the person that was going to ruin in the next few minutes.

“Tell me to stop when you want to okay?” He assures you as he slides his fingers between your slits to feel your wetness.

“Mhmm,” is all you can say as you feel his middle finger play around your entrance before finding its way against your walls. You breathe sharply at the feeling of his finger pulling in and out slowly, to explore its way around you. But it was also making you so hot-headed as it hit all the right corners and spaces. He swallows your moans with his lips and tries to steady your body by sucking at your nipples. But it only made your head cloudier and you let go of any control of the sounds that were coming out of you.

Your back arches with an audible whimper escaping your chest at Gojo’s attempt to curl his finger against your walls and he smirks, knowing what he just did. He continues the curling motions and tests your limit by nudging a second finger at your entrance. You yelp at the tight feeling of your walls against his fingers. “Fuck,” you spread your legs wider as a sign of giving in to his movements completely. He was entranced by the pretty sounds coming out of you and the way your hips were moving up and down his fingers trying to chase the knot that was tightening at the bottom of your stomach.

He speeds up the movements of his fingers, moving in and out of you. You let out soft cries at how he wasn’t letting you get a moment of rest between the feeling of his mouth against the sensitive spots on your neck and breasts mixed with the madness that was occurring between your legs. “Gojo, I can’t-” you say in a shaky cry at the way your walls were tightening against his fingers. He pushes you further with his thumb rubbing faster against your clit and you just about lose it, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and a strangled moan leaving your lips

“Hey pretty girl, wanna let go for me?” he whispers as he looks at your desperate eyes. You nod feverishly as he continues his motions, and he hoists one of your legs further apart to rest on his lap. You feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and the tingling on your clit getting borderline painful. You snap your palm on Gojo’s wrist trying to fight the feeling but he doesn’t relent. And with the next few motions of his fingers curling against you while he bit into your neck a little too rough, you let out a strangled shriek and arch your back as your walls pulsate around his fingers at your orgasm.

He drank in the sight of you panting and your legs shaking from the orgasm. Your eyes were pinched shut and one of your hands had the sheets tightly tucked into your fist and the other was squeezing his wrist that was still pumping his fingers in and out of you to help you ride out your orgasm. He leans forward, in awe and with sense of adoration.

“You good?” he kissed the corner of your mouth and brushed the stray pieces of hair on the sides of your face to place more chaste kisses across your cheeks and moving to your neck. You hiss as he takes his fingers out of you and you are given an apology as he muffles your complaints with his lips pressing against yours. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at Gojo’s now tight pants. You smirk and shift to balance your figure on your elbows to meet his eyes.

You nod at the bulge through his pants. “Do you wanna do something about that or…?” you question reaching out to place your hands against his chest, and push him into sitting back onto the bed as you straddle him.

“I mean…if you can take it,” he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours, and squeezing your hips.

God, this may be a huge mistake or one of the greatest things you guys stumbled upon with each other.

A/N: This is my first attempt at smut so help me oh lords of smut; I hope I didn’t it mess up lol. I also really like this college AU so maybe I’ll continue it, idk.

Alsoo, the header I used here was got from pinterest but if it has sources to someone here on Tumblr, I would love to credit <3

[lavishedinjimin]

Crybaby (m)

— synopsis: he calls you crybaby, crybaby. but you don’t fucking care.

↳ Pairing: jungkook x reader ↳ genre: smut ↳ word count: 9.6k ↳ warnings: dom!jk, sub!oc, oc is small in height, rough unprotected sex, oc cries a fuck ton bc sex is too good and cock is too big for her, daddy!jk, little!oc, choking, spanking, intense dirty talk lol are we surprised, jk’s lowkey a sadist, SIZE KINK, big dick kook, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, face fucking, name-calling, degradation, taehyung makes an appearance because why not, this is just one big porn without plot thank you 

cute people: @seokjoontae​ @gwccivante​ @pompurii​

A/n: Before you start reading, the OC that I imagine in this oneshot is small in height, so if you read words like ‘little’, ‘small’, and ‘tiny’, please don’t get offended or feel hurt! It’s just the way I pictured this OC, but you can completely ignore that if you want and paint your own. Everyone’s beautiful in whatever shape or form! <3

It was a cold, rainy day and you were walking along the paved sidewalks. Holding onto your umbrella with both hands as you tried to prevent it from folding upwards from the harsh wind, the only thing that was keeping you going -- was café that you’d always go to before work.

It was called Jeon’s Kitchen. It was a café that was super underrated for its location was hidden from the busy streets, yet it served the best coffee and pastries that you’ve ever tasted in your whole years of living.

You push the door of the café and the bell rings, signaling your arrival. The fresh smell of baked bread and coffee instantly hits your nose, and you almost roll your eyes back from its heavenly scent. Folding your wet umbrella close, you greet the man from the other side of the glass counter. “Good morning Mr. Jeon!”

“Ah, Y/n, here you are,” he smiles back at you, his forehead wrinkling as he wipes his wet hands on his apron. “Good morning to you as well! You look very happy this morning. Why’s that?”

You approach the counter as your boots create wet marks on the wooden floor. Letting out a giggle, you replied, “Thank you, sir. But there’s no big reason, really.”

You ordered your usual brown coffee with banana bread and sat down on an unoccupied seat. “Your friend Jimin isn’t with you today?” Mr. Jeon asks and you shake your head.

You chewed on your food as fast as you can before answering his question, “Jimin got on sick leave, Mr. Jeon.  I’m all alone today!” You sing-songed your last words jokingly, making him laugh.

“Oh, you wouldn’t—”

“Hey, dad.”

Your whole body jumps in surprise as a man, dressed in all black with a leather jacket, bursts inside the café, all soaking wet.

You were so frightened from the sudden outburst that your heart was pumping rapidly in your chest.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” Mr. Jeon asks quizzically, “And why are you so wet?”

Mr. Jeon’s son, Jungkook – as you supposed – smirked for a quick second before pushing his damp hair away from his face. You gulp, cheeks blushing at the embarrassingly hot sight.

“Dad, stop talking like that before I –”

“You know what I mean!”

“Okay, okay! Well, my car broke down today so I got it towed then I had nothing to do so I decided to help you with work.”

“Oh, that’s great then!” Mr. Jeon scans the room and locks eyes with you for a long second, and you swiftly pry your eyes away. Mr. Jeon grins, “Keep that gorgeous young lady over there company before she goes to work.”

And before you even knew it, Jungkook was right in front of you with his hands on the table, leaning down as he stared at your stunned face with a smirk.

“Hello.” He speaks, his voice sounding like honey and charcoal mixed together.

You swallowed the nervous lump on your throat before replying, “Hi.”

“Is it okay if I sit here for a while, hm?”

You nod your head.

Jungkook chuckles and does what he says. He rests his arms on the table and intertwines his fingers together. His eyes burn deeply into your own and you couldn’t seem to look away. You felt your cheeks blush and turn into a deep shade of red, not used to a man this handsome so close to you.

Jungkook studies you for a moment, scanning you up and down before squinting his eyes. “Do you not talk?”

Ouch. You felt a sharp sting on your heart, immediately lowering your head down. “S-sorry,” you half-whispered, avoiding eye-contact. This man in front of you not only looks handsome and cute, but he’s got a sharp tongue.

“Ah, no, please. I apologize. I was just shocked, that’s all.”

You lift your head up, “Shocked? Why?” your shyness was slowly fading away and he observes this.

“I wasn’t expecting a girl like you to be so shy and quiet when I first laid my eyes on you.”

Oh? You didn’t know how to respond to that, but it made your heart flutter nonetheless. You smiled at him, and he smiles back.

“I haven’t gotten your name yet though, haven’t I?”

Your body hastily prompts up, “Oh, yeah. I’m Y/n, nice to meet you.”

“Y/n,” he licks his lips as he says your name slowly as if testing how it rolls off of his tongue. You bite your lip at that, making you squirm in your seat.

“I like it, you have a very pretty name. Just like you.”

Before you can react or even respond to that, he cuts you off. “I’m Jeon Jungkook, nice to meet you.”

“N-Nice to meet you too, Jungkook.”

Perhaps dating Jungkook was the best decision you’ve ever made.

Pinned against his bedroom walls, Jungkook leans down as he kisses you. His lips completely control yours, his dominant side showing and overpowering you. You keep moaning onto the kiss and that makes him groan. “Fuck, baby,” he sighs, scattering gentle pecks on the skin of your neck, “You like how I kiss you, hmm?” his big hands wander down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and causing you to moan.

“A-ah, Jungkook,” you whimper, his hands not leaving your butt. Jungkook smirks and pulls your body closer to him. You were so small that you literally had to tilt your head back to look up at him. He leans down to kiss your lips once more, but it was rougher. He wraps his whole left arm around your body, tugging you firmer, while his other hand cups your right cheek. He controls the kiss, your tongues fighting together and you couldn’t keep up with him.

You keep whining in the kiss, your hands gripping his shirt in a loose attempt of telling him to slow down. Your cheeks were flushed in red, blushing by how turned on you are for him.

Jungkook chuckles, stopping the kiss. “You keep moaning into the kiss baby girl, what are you, hmm? A little schoolgirl who got kissed for the first time?” he teased, your face redder than it already was. Jungkook suddenly growls darkly, the deep sound finding its way down your core. “Your little whimpers turn me on so fucking much.”

Your eyes widen from his crude words, feeling your panties soak. You rub your thighs together, and your boyfriend sees this. He smirks, lifting your small body with his strong arms and carrying you to his bed.

He sets you down gently with a grin, pushing the stray hairs away from your face. “You aren’t a virgin, aren’t you, baby?” he asks with a quirk of his brow.

You shake your head, “N-no… why?”

He chuckles, “Good. ‘Cause I don’t plan to fuck you like one.”

You almost moan with just that sentence, every little thing that he does turns you on. He suddenly grabs your legs and pushes them apart so that he can kneel in between them. Lifting up his black shirt, your mouth waters from the sight of his toned body. A quiet whimper escapes your lips as you bit on your index finger.

“Bet those little panties are soaking wet right now, huh?” he snickers, playing with the hem of your cotton shirt. “Let me take this off, okay?”

You whimpered, quickly placing your hand on top of his as you stopped him. You shake your head side to side, your eyes drooping.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Jungkook’s heart clenches at the sight of you and quickly leans down to caress your cheeks lovingly, “What’s the matter, my baby?”

“I-I,” you tried to start, “I’m not v-very pretty…” Your voice was shaking and you attempted to cover your face with your little hands, but Jungkook didn’t let you.

He firmly catches both of your wrists in his right hand. His eyes were burning holes in yours, “Don’t talk about yourself like that, Y/n.”

You gulp, noticing how he addressed you by your first name, and not the usual ‘baby’. His tone got more serious, his eyebrows creasing down.  

He slowly creeps a hand beneath your shirt, feeling the soft, delicate skin of your tummy. Jungkook sighs, caressing your lower stomach with his big hand, massaging it gently. “You are so beautiful, Y/n, and you should believe me when I say that.”

He leans down lower to kiss your delicate lips tenderly, full of love. “You know I don’t lie to you. You’re the most beautiful and perfect girl I’ve ever met, and I’m so fucking lucky to even have you. Your body’s a blessing, baby. Be proud of it, yeah? Will you let me see your gorgeous body?”

His words immediately made you feel better, and it was surprising how he can control the way you felt. You felt so loved whenever you’re with him, a feeling that you’ve never felt in a long time. You were definitely the luckiest girl in the world.

Nodding your head, you gave him permission to remove your shirt. He smiles and slowly lifts the clothing up and throws it down on the floor. He eyes your body up and down, noticing how his cheeks blush in the faintest of pinks. “Shit,” he breathes out, “you’re a fucking goddess.”

Jungkook wastes no time to spread wet and sloppy kisses down the valley of your exposed breasts and down to your stomach. “J-Jungkook,” you moan, and a loud gasp escape your lips when he wraps his mouth around your left nipple, sucking and flicking on the hard bud.

“O-oh, y-yeah, Jungkook, mhm …” you throw your head back when he starts playing with your other boob as he continued to flick and bite on the little bud. Gripping a bunch of his hair, Jungkook growls from the feeling. He pulls away with a loud ‘pop’ and moves to your other boob to give it the same attention.

Jungkook’s hips were involuntarily humping down on you, feeling his hard cock rubbing on your thighs. You whimper, bucking your hips up to him in an attempt to feel some friction. He chuckles, “Needy little girl.”

He moves away from your body and you whine from the loss of contact. Jungkook only smirks and starts to unbutton his jeans, pulling the clothing down and tossing it to the side. Your mouth waters from the sight of his clothed cock. His cock looked long and thick from the way it was outlined from his briefs.

“Jungkook,” you mewled, biting your lip as you pleaded at him with your eyes.

He brings his hand down to tease you, palming his clothed, hard dick as he keeps eye contact. He was smirking, loving the way your body squirms on the bed. He grips his cock and strokes it up and down slightly. The image of him throwing his head back, his neck slowly starting to bead with sweat, his large hand palming his dick was enough to make you cry out loud.

“You want it, baby?” he asks with a raspy voice, crawling back to you.

“Yes, p-please,” you begged, but Jungkook shakes his head.

“M’gonna eat you out first. Gonna need this pretty cunt soaking wet for me before I fuck your little hole.”

Jungkook wastes no time and rips your shorts away, and he sees the little wet patch on your cotton panties. “Fucking hell,” he groans, his eyes rolling back to his head as your smell hits his nose. He rubs your clothed folds with his thumb, the slightest action already making you moan. “Damn, baby. You’re so sensitive. When was the last time you got fucked, huh?”

“L-Long, long time ago—oh my god, Jungkook!”

Without a warning, he pulls your panties down and licks a harsh, bold stripe from your dripping wet hole and up to your clit. He does this a second, a third time before you’re already begging and gripping on his hair. He circles his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves, careful not to directly put his tongue on it.

“Please, w-wan’ more.” You mewled, eyes closed shut.

Jungkook suddenly prods the tip of his tongue on your entrance, collecting all of your gushes and wetness and letting himself taste you. He growls, his hand comes up to play with your clit using his thumb. He circles your bud gently as his mouth plays with yours slick. Your pussy throbs when he replaces his hand with his mouth, harshly sucking on your clit as his tongue flicks on it at the same time.

“Fuck! J-Jungkook,” you sobbed, bucking your hips up for more, “I want m-more, please, please, please!”

Jungkook gets turned on from your endless pleads, sucking on your clit harsher and flicking it faster. “Tell me how my tongue feels on your pussy, babe,” He groans animalistically, and the vibrations it caused made your whole body shake in pleasure.

“It f-feels so good, so good,” you sob, “I want more of it, please!”

You felt a finger prodding at your entrance, and your body writhes. “Shh, shh, baby, baby,” Jungkook coos, “Let me prep you up, baby girl.”

You hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he slowly sinks his middle finger inside your tight pussy. You gush around his finger, more of your liquid starts to drip down as he slowly fills you up with a single digit. Your eyes roll back, mouth agape as you couldn’t seem to form any words.

“Thaaat’s right, that’s a good girl, hmm?” he smirks, watching how your hips buck up, “Gonna have to prepare you for this cock, right? Don’t want your little pussy splitting into two.”

Jungkook starts to thrusts his finger in and out of you at a normal pace, watching how your face contorts in pleasure. You were a whimpering mess, your forehead forming a layer of sweat, your pussy clenching tightly around his finger. Jungkook’s cock seems to twitch every time he hears your little whines and moans, your cute noises turning him on to the max. He feels precum dripping down from his tip, making him groan.

Without saying anything, Jungkook shoves a second finger in, stretching your walls out good for him. “Ah, ah, ah, there we go, there we go, baby,” he sighs, licking his lips.

“Jungkook, I-I’m so close,” you whimpered, eyes watery.

“You are?” he teases and fakes a disappointed tone, “My baby girl’s already close? Oh what a shame, I wanted you to cum on my cock, not on my fingers, baby.” Even though you know that he was playing a displeased expression, you still took it to heart. 

“B-But your fingers – aahh – your f-fingers will make me cum!” you cried, tears already dripping down your cheeks as you felt him fuck you faster, his thumb circling your clit at the same time. The nerves in your clit send electrical currents throughout your trembling body.

Jungkook growls as something snapped inside of him when he saw your tears. He wanted to see you sob.

“Yeah? They will?” he fusses, “Oh, I’ll be very disappointed if you cum right now, baby. You wanna make me mad?”

You quickly shake your head, sniffing, “N-no!”

“Then don’t fucking cum.” He growls. 

The combined feeling of your walls getting stroked by his fingers and the way he was playing with your clit made it super hard for you. More tears seem to escape your eyes when he suddenly hits your g-spot deliciously. “Oh, right there!” you cry out, breathing heavily.

“Right here, baby? Ohh, you like it right here?” he licks his lips, loving the way your body contorts from pleasure. His fingers rub and stroke the spongey feeling of your g-spot with wild ‘come here’ motions. He sees your tears dripping down your eyes as little strands of hair were sticking on the base of your neck from the sweat. Your pussy kept clenching around his digits so hard that made his cock throb painfully.

“Please please please, let me cum!” you begged in a little voice, not having the energy to yell as loud as you wanted to. You tried your best to hold back your orgasm, but the way he was fucking your pussy with only his two fingers was too much for you.

“Please, I-I can’t stand it…” More tears dripped down onto your cheek, your walls fluttering around his fingers as you were getting closer and closer to cumming.

Yet, Jungkook suddenly removes his fingers out, denying your orgasm.

“No, no!” your whole body shakes and trembles and Jungkook immediately hovers above your figure. His hands hold your wet cheeks and wipes away the fallen tears, his cock twitching.

“Shh, baby girl, baby girl. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Jungkook places soft pecks on your lips, trying his best to calm you down as you were still shaking.

You whimpered, literally sobbing as you tried to stop yourself from crying, but everything was just out of control. Your pussy kept clenching around nothing and your breathing was heavy. Jungkook places his head on the crook of your neck, rubbing your sides and he scatters kisses on your shoulder. He chuckles breathily, completely amused and turned on, “It’s okay, precious.” He lifts his head up to look at your face, all flushed and your eyes glossy, “I’m gonna make you cum so good and so hard. I’m gonna make it up to you, little baby.”

“Y-you better,” you sniff, making him chuckle.

He tugs his briefs down with one and the other wipes the remaining tears on your cheek. He hisses when his dick hits your inner thigh, stroking it a couple of times and spreading his precum.

“You like what you see, my baby?” he smirks, noticing how you couldn’t get your eyes off of his hard cock.

It was so big, you weren’t even sure if it’ll fit. Your past boyfriends couldn’t even compare to him. The tip of his cock was pouring precum and it was angry in red, the veins in his shaft prominent that made you mewl. Crossing your legs together in need, a whimper flows out of you as you felt your pussy drip. You wanted to feel it inside of you for the first time, you want him to break you.

“What are thinking, hmm? Baby?” he says, letting his thick shaft rub against your wet, soaked slit. You whimper, bucking your hips up but his hands push you back down with a growl.

“Y-You’re so big, Jungkook,” you blush, “It wouldn’t fit.”

“Oh, I fucking know, baby,” the tip of his dick slightly nudges your clit, making you mewl from the sensitivity. “I don’t even know if you can take it.”

He hears you whimper and he slaps your cunt a couple of times with his thick dick, “But you will.”

Jungkook pushes the tip slowly against your entrance, and you close your eyes immediately from the feeling. He was going so slow yet you can feel how your walls were stretching so much with just the tip.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he curses, trying to fit this whole tip in without accidentally breaking you in half, “You’re so fucking tight, fuck, even with how wet you already are. Goodness, baby,” he chuckles, pulling his cock out as he tries to fit it in for a second time, “Pussy so fucking tiny, can’t even get the head to fit.”

He was able to push about half of his cock inside your cunt yet you already feel so full. You couldn’t stop the way your pussy was dripping more and more juices out, and Jungkook loved the way it felt. 

He notices how your eyes were getting watery once again, and this time he felt concerned.

“Does it hurt, baby? Please tell me to stop if it gets too much for you,”

“No, no, please. Please continue,” you say with a small voice, trying to control your breathing, “I-I just love the way it feels so much.”

Jungkook feels his cock pulse from your praise, and it definitely turned a switch inside of him, “Yeah, you do? Look at you, crying already. Crying ‘cause you love the feeling, huh? Love the feeling of my cock stretching your tiny, delicious cunt?”

You nod your head frantically, feeling how he pushes more and more of his cock into you. It felt like it doesn’t seem to end. “S-so…big…” you cry, sniffing. Jungkook lifts your legs up and hangs it on his shoulders, the new position caused him more room to push and his tip hits your g-spot without trouble.

“Oh!” you yell, “Jungkook!”

“Fuuuuuck!” he drags out, starting to pump slowly, “Feels so fucking good. Your little cunt feels so tight, shit, it keeps clenching, baby.” Jungkook throws his head back, biting his bottom lip.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whisper, “I’m gonna c-cum!”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to fuck you a bit faster, hitting your sweet spot without difficulty with his thick tip. “Cum, baby, I’m not gonna stop you.”

Your eyes roll back from the immense pleasure, the feeling of a large wave hitting your body as you went through your hard orgasm. You’ve never cummed so hard in your entire life. You started seeing stars as your pussy clenches tightly around Jungkook’s cock as you feel him fuck you harder and faster through your orgasm.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, “Jung—oh my god!”

Jungkook adjusts his position and starts to fuck you deeper, his arms keeping him up as he pounds down in your cunt. He watches your reaction, how you never stopped crying and how you kept moaning and whimpering for him. He watched how your tiny figure was curled up, your legs hanging on his shoulders as it provided him more space to fuck you. He smirks and chuckles, loving how submissive you are.

“You love how I fuck you, huh, you love my cock? You love how my big, long cock stretches your tiny little cunt out? Hmm?”

You don’t respond as you were too focused on the feeling of his big cock pounding your pussy, his balls hitting your butt. His shaft was rubbing against your walls so good that it was the only thing you can think of. When you don’t answer, Jungkook gives one particular, hard thrust, his tip harshly hitting your g-spot.

“O-oh! Jungkook…” you whined.

“Answer when someone asked you a question, you bad, little girl.”

“I-I…” you gulped, “I love it, Jungkook…”

He pushes another inch of his cock in, making you gasp loudly.

“Love what?”

“I l-love how your big cock stretches me out,” you mewled, biting your lip right after. Jungkook cock throbs when your eyes meet and they looked so big. Your eyes were watery as more tears kept escaping from them, and Jungkook wanted to wipe them off of your face, but the sight was too good.

The way you were looking up at him so innocently made him fuck you harder and deeper, getting even closer to his own orgasm.

“Why’re you such a fucking crybaby, huh?” he chuckles, “Crying all this time, hmm? Couldn’t take my fingers and my cock? You couldn’t take how I fuck you raw? Fuck, baby. Cry as much as you want, I’m not gonna fucking stop until you say so.”

Saying that Jungkook was turned on was an understatement. There were no words to describe how aroused he was in this situation. He was so fucking lucky to have you.

“Deeper, please,” you sobbed. Jungkook does just that. His thrusts turn even harsher as he basically pushes all of his cock in, not caring that it might sting. “Aahh! K-Kook!” you cry, but he doesn’t care at this point. He was too in his feelings.

“Yeah, look at my pretty little girl taking all of this cock in her little cunt. You filthy little thing, you like it when I fuck you balls deep?” he chuckles when you nod your head, sniffing.

“My crybaby. I love to see you cry. Love to feel how my dick stretches that little pussy. So fucking tight, fuck.”

Jungkook feels your pussy clenching sporadically around him once more, and he senses your second orgasm. “Cum, baby. Cum around my cock again. Please, fuck. Wanna feel your walls tighten around my raw dick. Wanna see you scream my name and sob for me. Wanna see this little pussy ruined.”

That was all that it took for you to cum. Your hands scratch down his back as your walls tighten around his thick girth. Your mouth was agape as you screamed his name like he wanted to. “Jungkook! Oh my god, oh my god…” Jungkook keeps fucking you through your orgasm again as he helped himself reach his own high. You came so hard, your mind going blank as you just focused on the delicious, addictive sensation.

“Fuuuuck, yeah, oh my fucking god.” He curses, and with a few hard thrusts, he pulls out and shoots his cum on your stomach. Strings of his seed cover your skin and you moan from the sight. He kept pumping his cock with his right hand, his biceps flexing and abs tightening as he milked his cock clean.

After he was finished he flops beside you with a loud sigh. “Oh my god. I came so fucking hard.”

You giggle at that as you watch him stand up immediately to grab a wet towel from the bathroom, and coming back to wipe your body with it. He then tends to your face, wiping your cheeks using the clean side of the cloth. “I’m sorry if it was too much for you, Y/n,” he breathes out, “Seeing someone cry like that during sex was a first time for me.”

“No, i-it’s okay. I loved it. I cried because it feels too good. I’ve never felt that type of way, I promise.”

His eyes light up, his lips curving into a smile, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “I probably looked dumb crying, didn’t I?

“No, no, no! Absolutely not.” He quickly says, stroking your hair. He kisses your lips lovingly, and you can feel how much he loves and cares for you in that little kiss. “You didn’t look dumb, in fact...” Jungkook looks away, blushing a little bit as he wondered if he should say it or not.

‘Oh, whatever.’ “It turned me on.”

You lift your eyebrows up in shock, and now it was your turn to blush. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he leans down close to your ear, and you can feel his hot breath hitting the skin, sending shivers down your back, “You looked so fucking cute like that, baby. So fucking hot, shit,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “I’ll stop talking before I fuck you again… just to see you cry.”

“Jungkook!” you playfully slapped his arm, your face completely red in embarrassment. “I’m too tired for another round.”

“I know, I know, baby. Let’s get some rest, little one.”

Having sex with Jungkook for the first time made you closer to him than ever. After that day, Jungkook seemed more protective of you. It wasn’t like he isn’t protective of you before having sex, but… things felt different.

He also acts more helpful? You weren’t sure if that was the right word to describe it, but he acted more caring than he already was.

He’d always cook for you whenever you visit him, he’d pick out clothes for you to wear and help you put them on, he’d grip your hand tighter whenever the two of you crossed the road, he’d order food for you in restaurants, and he would even massage your back whenever you came home from work. It was the simplest thing he does for you that amuses you. To be honest, it made you feel soft and fluffy on the inside. It made you feel a type of way, like you feel so protected and loved around him.

Knocking on his front door three times, you waited for Jungkook to appear as you held your hands behind your back.

“Oh, hi Y/n.” Your eyes widen when you saw Taehyung, his roommate, open the door instead of your boyfriend.

“T-Taehyung!” you stutter, completely surprised, “Hi… is Jungkook home?” you asked politely. You and Taehyung met a couple of times before, yet your conversations were always short and a bit awkward. Taehyung was a great guy, but he was always out and about so you didn’t have the opportunity to get to know him.

He was almost the same height as your boyfriend, and you still had to look up.

“He isn’t here yet, he’ll be back in a few minutes though.” He says in a monotone voice, towering over you. He looks at you so sharply that it made you feel intimidated. His eyes turned into little slits, eyeing your little figure up and down. You could’ve sworn he smirked for a quick second, but perhaps your mind was only playing with you.

If you knew that Jungkook’s roommate would be home, your outfit wouldn’t be a simple oversized t-shirt and short cotton shorts.

“Come in.” he states simply as he moves aside to give you some room. “Please act as if I’m not here.”

“O-oh,” you whisper, “okay…”

You watch Taehyung as he disappears into the hallway and goes inside his room, the door shutting with a loud bang. You frown. Maybe he had a bad day?

You still had so much time to kill left, so you had an idea. You walked up to Taehyung’s doorstep and gulped before knocking. “Taehyung? C-can I ask you something?” you say in a quiet, small voice.

“What?” he shouts.

You sigh, “I wanted to ask you about some—” You shrieked when the door suddenly flies open, revealing him wearing headsets and a PS4 controller on one hand.

“Oh s-sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckles, “I’m having a bad day today, so I apologize if I seem like an ass.”

You giggle at that, nodding your head in acknowledgment. “I wanted to ask you if I can use some of your ingredients, I want to surprise him some food before he gets home.” You say giddily, not realizing that you’re standing up in your tippy toes.

Taehyung looks down and notices this, making him laugh and shake his head in amusement. “Yeah, of course, Y/n. You can use whatever you want.”

“Yay! Thank you!” You quickly ran back to the kitchen as Taehyung laughs at you, his mouth smiling wide as he shuts the door, resuming to his game.

Jungkook can feel the excitement bubbling in his stomach as he parks his car, knowing that he’ll be seeing you again today after such a long day. He bites his lip as he makes his way to the front door, the thought of hugging your body, of kissing your sweet lips and smelling your scent was driving him insane. He wants to feel you. To see you again.

You, on the other hand, don’t hear the keys jiggling as you kept humming to yourself as you made him his favorite snack. Jungkook opens the door and sees you facing away from him, chopping away on the counter. He creases his brows in confusion, smirking.

Jungkook crosses his arms together, biceps flexing as he quietly walks closer. He leans his arms on the marble island, watching you in amusement.

You kept humming your favorite song, not knowing that your boyfriend was right behind you. You tip-toed as you tried to open the cupboard right above you, but it was too high for your short height. Huffing a breath, you reached your right arm higher, stretching up as much as you could. Jungkook only watched with a cocky smirk, lifting a hand up as his thumb and index finger played with his bottom lip. He watches how your shirt hikes up, revealing more of your butt, how you struggled to keep yourself in your tippy toes.

Even though you’ve admitted many times before how much you hated your height, Jungkook loves it so fucking much. He didn’t understand it before, but he loves how he can easily hold your tiny little body by just wrapping his big, strong arms around you. He loves to see how you seem so small beside his tall and intimidating build. It gives him the feeling to take care of you, the strong desire of wanting to protect you as your lover. 

Besides all of that, though — the size difference turns him on.

His dominant side easily shows whenever you let him control your body with consent, letting him use your frail figure for both of your pleasure. 

A whimper escapes your lips, “Mmph!” You frustratingly yelled, fingers trying to reach for the handle.

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip, feeling his cock twitch slightly inside his tight pants. He licks his lips and chuckles darkly when you wailed.

His eyes widen, though, when you lift your knee up to rest on the counter, trying to hoist yourself up as your hands grab onto the cupboard.

He quickly strides over to you and places two hands on your waist, pressing his front on your backside. “Hey, hey, careful, careful, little one.”

Your whole body jumps in surprise, eyes expanding as you flip your head to him, “Jungkook! You scared me!”

“No, you scared me. Climbing up the counter isn’t safe at all.”

Jungkook grabs your hoisted leg and puts it back on the ground. He still kept his body pressed firmly onto yours, not giving you space. “I couldn’t reach the cupboard…” you faintly said, making Jungkook giggle.

“I know. I was watching you this whole time.”

You gasp, trying to turn your body around to face him but his strength didn’t let you. He grips your waist firmer, a soft raspy growl leaving his lips. A blush creeps up your cheeks from the sound.

“T-then why didn’t you help me?” you grin, throwing your head back so that you can look up at him. The top of your head was pressed against his upper stomach, giving you a full view of his jaw and his face looking down at you.

Jungkook sighs, wrapping his hand around your throat without pressing. He leans farther down and presses a kiss on your forehead. “Because I thought you look fucking adorable.”

“Jungkook!” you shout with an embarrassed laugh. “P-please let me finish this snack I’m making for you.” You whine, wriggling your body as you tried to find a way out of his strong grip. Jungkook further plays his game though, wrapping his big arms around your small figure, enclosing your body with his firm hold.

“Mmm, fuck, I love you, I love you.” He mutters, making your heart flutter with his words. “I-I love you too, Kook. B-but you’re squeezing me so h-hard.” Your small hands try to push his arms away, but of course, it was useless.

Jungkook gives you one final kiss on the top of your head before he finally releases you, causing you to puff out a large breath. “Oh! Thank you,” you giggle, “please, let me finish this, Kook.”

“Okay baby,” he smiles, wandering to the other side of the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. “Thank you.”

You nod your head and bite your lip, looking at his eyes. “Y-you’re welcome. But can you…” you look up at the cupboard, then back to him, “Can you please grab me the salt up there?”

Laughing, Jungkook nods and comes up to your side and opens the cupboard with no problem. “Here, little girl.”

You blush at the nickname as you grab the bottle with a blush on your cheeks. “Thank you.”

With a final kiss on the cheek, Jungkook playfully squishes your cheeks with one hand, “No need for that, babe.”

Jungkook also finds many different ways to spice up your sex life. Every round drained your energy but he had such a huge and impressive stamina.

“Jungkook, p-please, careful, careful…” you whimpered, closing your eyes tight as his dick kept pounding into your little cunt. Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle as he lifts your legs up to wrap around his waist. This position gave him better access to your g-spot, hitting all the right nerves that made you moan louder and louder with each thrust.

“Careful?” he snickers, “You want me to go careful on this pretty little pussy?” He pounds harder and deeper, making you cry out. “How can I go fucking careful when this cunt drives me wild. Drives me insane, huh? How can I go careful when you cunt keeps clenching around my thick cock? Hmm, baby?”

“Jungkook, oh my god,” you start scratching down his back from the pleasure he brings you, his dirty, filthy words sending you into a frenzy.

“My god, baby girl. Keep clenching your walls around me like that and I swear I’m gonna fucking cum inside this cunt. Oh my fu – shit! You wanna be a bad girl and keep tightening around my cock?”

You tried your best to relax, yet his powerful thrusts were making it hard for you to do so. You keep whimpering and whining, hugging his sweaty body closer on yours so that you can feel his hot breath. Jungkook places wet and sloppy kisses on your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and biting on it. He scatters your neck with bites, nipping harshly, making you mewl.

“Daddy, t-that hurts.”

You didn’t even process what you just said not when Jungkook stops his tracks. You lock eyes with him and there were this different look and aura on his face, his irises blown even wider and turning darker.

His breathing was heavier, and he wants to fuck you like his little fucktoy so fucking bad, but he controls himself. “What did you…what did you just call me?”

You shake your flushed face side to side, “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t know why I said it and I’m sorry if you didn’t like it…”

Jungkook releases a deep growl, wrapping his right hand around your throat and squeezing, choking you. “I asked you a fucking question and I expect you to answer it, you fucking slut.”

You whimpered from his degradation, feeling his big hand wrapping around your throat made your pussy clench tighter around him even more. Your mind goes back to his previous question, “I c-called you my daddy…”

Jungkook closes his eyes shut for five seconds, inhaling a deep breath as he prods his tongue on the inside of his right cheek.

He leans down so close to your ear that you can feel his lips grazing on your earlobe, his hot breath hitting your skin, making you shiver. “Keep calling me that and I’ll fuck you like the good little bitch you are for me.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your pussy gush around his thick, long cock. He smirks at your reaction and starts thrusting in and out of you once again, slowly this time. “I love how your pretty mouth says that. It turns me on so fucking bad.”

You giggle, cheeks blushing, “Okay, daddy. B-but – oohhh – go faster.”

Jungkook wipes the smile away from your face when he suddenly flips your frail little body over, making you lay on your stomach, your face pressed against the sheets. You whimpered loudly when a harsh slap lands on your ass, his hand hitting the flesh so roughly that caused a stinging, loud spank.

Jungkook pulls his cock out of your dripping pussy, making you mewl from the loss.

“So now you’re begging for daddy to go faster without saying please, huh?”

Spank.

“Is this what you want, huh?”

Spank.

“Wanna be a bad girl? Talking to daddy like that?”

“Jungk—daddy!”

Spank.

“Fucking get your words right, baby girl, before I bruise this pretty little ass purple until you couldn’t sit down.”

Your pussy was gushing slick out to the sheets, your eyes were already blurry as you let your tears drip down onto your cheeks. Jungkook can hear your little sniffles and he roughly grabs a bunch of your hair and tugs harshly, forcing your head to tilt upwards.

A loud whine escapes your lips, the pain triggering more cries out of you. Jungkook tsk-ed, spanking your reddened ass once more. “Look at you, fucking pathetic.”

“N-no,” you whimpered, feeling his head prod against your entrance, but he doesn’t push all the way in.

“Crying like the little cockslut you are, begging for cock without saying please? Daddy needs to teach you a fucking lesson, you little slut.”

You felt your stomach coil up from his crude, degrading words but it turned you on even more. Jungkook finally releases the harsh grip on your hair, “Up on all fours, crybaby.”

You bite your lip from the way he addressed you, quickly doing what he told you so that you wouldn’t be in more trouble. You hang your head low, feeling your teardrops run down to your jaw and on to the bed.

“D-daddy,” you sniff, “I’m…I’m s-sorry.”

He hits another hard spank on your ass, making your whole body jolt forward from the sudden sting. “Mmphh, d-daddy…” you plead.

“I’m not taking any little sorry tonight, slut. Take what daddy gives you as an apology.”

Without any warning, he suddenly shoves his whole cock inside of you, balls deep, without giving you any time to adjust. Your eyes expand from the quick shot of pleasure, your mouth agape as you tightly gripped on the sheets below you. You felt so full, feeling his cock about to split you into two. “F-fuck! Daddy!” you cried, your pussy clenching around his girth tightly.

Jungkook tries his best to keep his composure, to prevent himself from fucking you as he keeps his dick inside your wet cunt. His hands grip your hips tightly, for sure leaving red handprints.

“Be a good girl and keep my cock warm,” he growls.

“D-daddy, no… p-please mo — oohh — move!”

“You really want to disobey daddy, huh?” Spank. “You like being a brat? You’re not my good little girl.” Spank.

With his words, somehow, made you cry even more. You bite your lip to stop yourself from sobbing out loud from the overwhelming pain and pleasure that he’s giving you. You can feel his cock throb inside of you, and his tight grip prevents you from moving.

“I-I’m your…your good little girl, daddy.” You whimper as you shut your eyes, shedding more tears.

Jungkook groans when he swivels his hips slightly, his tip hitting just the right nerves inside your clenching pussy. He wanted to fuck you just like you do, but you had to endure your punishment.

“Oh you are now, really?” he snickers, “Good little girls take their punishment properly.”

“I-I’ll take it properly, daddy! Puh-please, I’ll b-be good.”

Jungkook seemed satisfied with your pleading, and he takes his cock out of your pussy. You whined loudly, your whole body shaking. Jungkook moves so that he was now kneeling in front of you, his heart clenching when he finally sees your fucked-out face.

He leans down and takes your wet cheeks in his big hands, watching you sniff and tremble. “Baby girl,” he whispers, placing a kiss on your lips. “Are you okay? Still want to keep going?”

You nod your head, trying to form a smile above all of your weeping. Jungkook grins but soon replaces it with a devilish smirk. His big hand wraps around your jaw and adjusts himself so that his dick was right in front of your lips. He grips his shaft in his other hand and spreads his precum on your lips, watching you with dark, lustful eyes.

“Gonna fuck this bratty little mouth of yours ‘till you learn your lesson, got it?”

You look up at him with fuzzy eyes, nodding your head. He pushes his cock in and you instinctively open your mouth, inviting him in. Jungkook throws his head back and groans loudly when his cock comes in contact with your tongue. His dick wasn’t even halfway in and you were already gagging.

“Shit,” he chuckles, his left hand holding the back of your head. “You look so fucking hot like this,” you watch him brush his hair back with his unoccupied hand, seeing his biceps flex. You whimpered, the vibrations hitting his cock deliciously.

“Look at you, fucking crying as your little mouth tries to take my cock,” he smirks, pushing more and more of his length in, feeling your throat tighten around him. You quickly remembered to breathe through your nose, and you do just that.

“What? Can’t take my cock either?” he snarls, pulling all the way out before snapping his hips back in again, making you choke. “I think my cock’s too big for this tiny little girl I have right here.”

His words sent up a spike of pleasure to run throughout your whole body, and you were determined to take all of him in. You slack your jaw and open your mouth wider – besides the protest of your tears – and you take more of his dick.

He starts to thrust at a steady pace, hitting your gag reflex again and again but you try to push it away. Jungkook keeps his eyes on you, watching how your eyes struggle to keep open as they keep shedding more tears, your lips drooling in saliva as his dick fucked your throat. He thrusts faster and faster, now holding your head in both hands.

“B-baby,” he groans, “take my fucking cock. That’s right, choke around it… fuck!”

Jungkook decides to push another inch of his cock in, and your throat harshly gags around it. You felt your pussy clench tightly and his dick throbbed harshly from the tightness of your throat. He shuts his eyes and keeps his dick still inside your mouth, the tip of your nose almost touching his pubic bone. “Fuuuuuuck! Baby g-girl, so fucking t-tight.”

He reopens his eyes and finally pulls his cock out of your sore little mouth, watching as a string of saliva connects from your lips and on his tip. You exhale a large puff of air, breathing heavily.

“Ohh, my precious baby girl,” he coos as he leans down to grab your face, kissing your lips passionately. You whimpered into his mouth, feeling so fucked out and tired, your arms almost giving out. “I love you,” he says, biting on your bottom lip right after, “I love you.”

You look up at him, your eyes slightly red. You knew that he was only saying these crude, vulgar words just for the sake of sex. You knew that he didn’t mean it. “I love you too, a lot, lot more.”

“Impossible.” Your boyfriend chuckles and swiftly flips you over again with no trouble, lifting you up as if you weighed like a feather. He lays you on your back again as he hovered his body on top of you, his forearms on either side of your face.

“I’m gonna fuck you like you deserved to be fucked, baby.” Jungkook wastes no time to insert his cock back in your cunt, and this time, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you balls deep, feeling your walls stretch around his girth once more. He couldn’t get used to the feeling, he wanted to fuck you even rougher but he feels like he’s going to tear your pussy apart. “Fuck, baby, your cunt feels like it’s gonna break if I fuck you even harder.”

“Daddy, p-please… I want it.”

Jungkook quirks a brow up, “What did you say? Say it louder, baby girl.”

You gulp down the lump in your throat, “P-please fuck me rough. Please don’t hold back, daddy, I d-deserve it. Fuck my l-little pussy until I break, please please please, daddy.”

Jungkook turns animalistic, a deep growl erupting from his throat as he snaps his hips even harder and faster. His cock was hitting your sweet spot all this time, and you couldn’t even keep your eyes open from the overwhelming pleasure. He’s fucking you so roughly that he can’t think straight. He lifts your legs up to wrap around his waist so that he can fuck you deeper.

“Aaah! Right t-there!” you squeal, wiping your tears away from your face with your palm, “Daddy, it f-feels too good!”

“Yeah?” he groans, “My little crybaby, wanting her daddy to fuck her pussy like it’s her last dick she’s ever gonna get?” Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing it just right. His dick throbs from the sight of you weeping, lips bruised from all of your constant lip bites. “This little body trying it’s best to take big dick, huh?”

Your cheeks blush, nodding your head, “Y-yes, daddy. I-I love it.”

“Oh I know you do. Pleasure too much for you to handle that you cry, hm? Bet no one fucked you this good. No dick has ever been good to you, huh? Is that it?”

Your eyes roll back, his hand squeezing your neck bit tighter as he feels your pussy clenching nonstop around his cock. “O-only you, daddy. Only your cock makes me feel this good.”

“Good thing you know, baby. Because you’re gonna feel daddy’s cock in you for the next couple of days. Daddy’s gonna make your small little body feel so sore tomorrow, the next day, and the day after that. Daddy’s gonna make sure that you couldn’t walk after this.”

With his head hitting your g-spot constantly, you felt the familiar coil in your stomach building up fast. “D-daddy! I’m gonna cum!” you whimper, chest heaving up and down, your forehead sticky with sweat.

“You are? Ohh, I know, baby,” he chuckles, “Your cunt keeps squeezing around my dick. Cum whenever you’re ready, little girl.”

After a couple more hard thrusts, the building knot in your tummy snaps. You finally cum around his cock, your walls clenching and pulsating tightly and sporadically on his length, your legs physically shaking. Jungkook groans, holding your trembling body in his strong arms, hugging you close. “Thaaaat’s it, that’s my good girl.” He purrs, watching your figure shake, your legs pulling his hips closer and firmer.

“Daddy,” you whispered, still cumming, “I-I…” your mouth was agape, not having the energy to form coherent words. Jungkook fucks you through your orgasm, trying his best not to cum immediately. His thrusts turn sloppy and he slows down, his own high coming closer.

“Shh, shh, daddy’s got you, I got you.” He bites his lip, feeling his balls get heavier.

“Daddy, p-please let me t-taste your cum.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Jungkook almost came then and there, quickly pulling out of your drenched pussy and kneeling between your head, stroking his rock-hard cock furiously, “Fuck, Y/n, shiiiiiit,” he moans, gripping your left cheek in one hand as he strokes the fallen tears away with his thumb. “My good, pretty crybaby, gonna cum, gonna fucking cum!”

Your legs cross together as Jungkook’s cum spurts out, thick strings of his seed covers your face as your mouth opens wide, trying to catch them. Jungkook breathes heavily as he tries to aim at your tongue, but slightly fails as his body shakes from the strong orgasm. “Holy fuck,” he growls from the sight beneath him, watching you gulp down his hot cum. “Good fucking girl, fuck.”

He keeps stroking his dick until he’s completely fucked out, throwing his head back with his eyes closed. You watch him with big eyes, seeing how his adam’s apple bob up and down, his neck covered in beads of sweat. Little droplets would run down from his thick chest and to his defined abs. You whimpered, making him turn his attention back to you.

“Oh my fucking god, baby girl.” He chuckles, reaching to the nightstand to get the wet wipes. “I need to clean you,” he smirks, “even though you look hot like that.”

“Mmm, daddy,” you giggle, biting on your index finger as he cleans your face.

“Yes, baby girl?” he says, voice sweet and gentle, completely different from the tone he’s been using on you this whole time.

“Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for, Y/n? I’m here supposed to say sorry to you, for pushing your precious, little body.” He fakes a frown, still wiping your sticky face.

“No, I-I loved it. I love playing with you like this daddy,” you giggle with a blush.

Jungkook hums, “Mhmm, I know baby girl. You like it when daddy plays with your body rough, huh? Like it when I make your body shake and tremble as you cry?”

You face turn redder, rolling your eyes playfully with a stupid grin.

“I take that as a yes.”

You groan and push his body away from you with as much strength as you can, but you clearly fail to do so. Jungkook giggles, feeling your small hands pressing firmly on his chest. He finds you so adorable. He flops on the space beside you as he quickly wraps an arm around your body, cuddling you. He tugs you closer to him, his chest resting on top of your head.

“Baby?” he questions.  

“Hmm?”

“I was really surprised when you called me daddy.” Your face instantly blushes red again, covering your face with your hands as a quiet groan leaves your lifts. Jungkook smirks, “I didn’t know you were into that.”

“A-as if it didn’t turn you on.” You snicker shyly, feeling the grip he has on your waist tighten.

“Oh it did. It fucking did.”

Without a warning, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and swiftly lifts your body above him, placing you on top of him. You squeal as he makes you straddle his blanket-covered waist. He tugs your upper body down until your faces were mere inches apart.

Jungkook’s chest tightens when he sees that your eyes were still red from crying so much. He chews on his bottom lip, lifting his hands up to caress your cheeks. Your head felt so small between his large hands, and it somehow gave you a comfortable feeling – as if you were so safe in his hold. You instinctively lean into his palm, eyes fluttering at him.

“Oh, princess,” he exhales, his eyes drooping slightly as he looks at you so lovingly. “You’re so good for daddy. You’re only mine, get that?”

Nodding your head, you smile as you feel your heart beat faster. “I’m yours, only yours, daddy.”

You didn’t expect the harsh, deep growl that left Jungkook’s lips. Your eyes widen when he pushes his thumb inside your mouth, getting them wet as you automatically suck. You whimper when his other hand crawls down from your spine and down to your ass, gripping your sore cheek.

“Mmmphh—da..ddy,” you mewl, gagging a little when he pushes his thumb inside further. Jungkook prods a tongue on the inside of his cheek as he looks at you so darkly. With a devilish smirk, he slaps your butt sharply, the loud sound resonating throughout the room as your body shivers.

“D-Daddy…it hurts,” you pleaded at him with your eyes, wiggling your ass.

“I know.” He says simply. It wasn’t the reply that you wanted, causing you to groan out in frustration. “Can you take it?” he asks seriously, lifting a single brow up.

You start to sniff, a lump forming in your throat as you look away. You shake your head side to side slowly, “N-no, daddy.”

Jungkook quickly removes his thumb out of your mouth and instead pulls your head closer until your lips touch his. He wraps his arms around you, pressing your body onto him until there was no space left. You mewl as you couldn’t keep up with his dominant pace, manipulating the kiss and showing who’s in control. Your hands find their place on his hair, playing with his gorgeous locks because you knew how much he liked it.

Your cheeks heat up when you feel Jungkook smirk into the kiss. He leaves deep little moans and groans, making your stomach turn.

Jungkook was the first one to pull away before it gets more heated. He watches your face, how you were slightly out of breath and your cheeks pink.

Jungkook was so thankful that you spoke your mind, saying the truth that you couldn’t handle another round at this time. He could definitely go on for hours and hours, but he was thinking about you. He had a huge amount of stamina, and you know that. With you saying no, he knew that you really trusted him.

Jungkook lovingly strokes your hair, pushing the stray strands away from your face. “How about we take a bath, baby?”

Your eyes instantly light up, nodding furiously.

“Good.” Jungkook taps your side a couple of times and you move away from him so he can stand. “You stay there and look pretty while I run the water, yeah?”

You giggle, “Okay, daddy.”

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head, “Don’t say that as if you want to be fucked stupid again, crybaby.”

~

There’s a part two! 

Oh, and a part three? 

[lavenderfluorite14]

Such Sweet Delirium

Reiji Sakamaki x Fem!Reader

Summary: Laito Intrudes on an experiment gone wrong. Reiji loses his cool.

Explicit, 18+ |TW: Dubious Consent/Non-Con, Drugged Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Slut Shaming, Blood Sucking, Ownership Kink, Female Reader, Breast Worship, Hickeys, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Begging, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Possessive Reiji, Light Edging, Canon Typical Reiji Cruelty, I couldn’t just write porn I had to write a character study too lol, Slight Laito x Reader, Tagging non-con for the consent issues surrounding drugged sex, Reader is conscious and responsive but very high

Word Count: 2331

A/N: Please be mindful of the tags! This is the most explicit thing that I have ever written lmaoooo 🥂

Read it on AO3!

Reiji’s lab spun in a nauseating carousel of color. The last thing you remembered was drinking a beautiful, shimmering liquid that Reiji said he had brewed himself. It fizzed all the way down your throat, an insistent warmth quickly spreading throughout your body. Now sprawled across his sofa, you surrendered to dizzying oblivion. Somewhere above you, Reiji scribbled furiously in a black notebook, tutting irritably.

“Tell me what you are feeling. Be specific.” You swallowed thickly at the order, begging your tongue to move.

“The…...the room…..the room is-”

“Spit it out, I don’t have all day.”

“S-spinning. The room….is spinning” you slurred.

“How fast?”

“Fast.”

“I said how fast?”

“I….I can’t….”

Reiji tsked angrily, snapping his notebook shut. Flinching, you tried to turn away from his sharp gaze but a cold hand pinned you flat against the couch. Your delayed reaction time was no match for his vampiric strength.

“I can feel your heart racing from here,” he said, curling over you, pinning your wrists above your head. “Had I known you were such weak prey I would have given you a smaller dose. It isn’t as fun when you can’t fight back.” You wriggled underneath him, jerking weakly against his cruel grip. Reiji laughed, amused at your feeble attempts to escape.

“Although, I don’t hate this delirious expression,” he murmured, lowering his face towards yours. You squeezed your eyes shut, overwhelmed by his hungry stare. “I suppose this isn’t bad every once and a while.” His rich baritone rumbled in your ear, his proximity making you tremble.

“I didn’t think I’d interrupt this so soon,” interrupted a dark chuckle. Laito lounged against the doorframe of the lab, eyeing your entwined forms. “You must really like this one, Reiji,” he teased. Reiji’s iron grip tightened around your wrists and you whimpered pitifully. “It’s rude to enter someone’s room without knocking,” Reiji spat imperiously. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer!” Laito insisted, his eyes glinting with mirth. “But now I can see you were a bit distracted.” You lolled your head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder. Laito’s smirk widened.

“Christ, what did you do to her?”

“Such language is atrocious. You shouldn’t speak that way.”

“You fucked up the dosage, didn’t you?” Reiji shot up quickly at the accusation, swiping his notebook from the couch as he crossed briskly back towards his desk. Laito’s smirk cracked into a grin.

“Do you need something, Laito?” Reiji asked coolly. As Reiji began tidying his work space, Laito sauntered over to the couch, his green gaze boring into you. Crouching down, he gently brushed his fingers across your cheek. You shivered under his cold touch. “I came for the aphrodisiac you promised me,” Laito said, trailing his fingers down your neck. He stopped to trace the hollow of your throat, caressing it with his thumb. “But if you don’t have it, I’m sure there are other ways we can pass the time inst-”

“Of course I have it,” Reiji scoffed. Plucking a vial of blue liquid from his stores, he crossed the room and offered it to Laito. “Now please take it and leave.” Reiji’s words hung in the air like frost. Laito rose languidly, like a cobra rearing back to strike, then swiped the vial from Reiji’s gloved hand.

“Maybe next time, Bitch-Chan,” Laito said, winking at you. “And Reiji,” Laito called, pivoting in the doorframe for one last jab. “I know it can be hard to control yourself, especially this close to a full moon, but try not to tear this one up like the last one, ok? You should save some for the rest of us.”

“Get out!” Reiji snarled, storming across the room. Laito darted off, disappearing as quickly as he had come. Reiji slammed the door behind him.

The ceiling swam before you in lethargic swirls of periwinkle. You had no idea what Laito meant, but you could feel Reiji fuming in the doorway. What was he talking about? Reiji never lost his cool. You couldn’t imagine him doing something like that. “You let him touch you,” Reiji seethed.

“Reiji, I...I didn’t….I didn't want-”

“Please be silent.Your behavior today has been dreadful.” Reiji prowled towards the couch, his long shadow casting a dark pall across your face. You closed your eyes, terrified to meet his furious eyes. “You couldn't do a thing?” He queried, towering above you. “You couldn’t cry out? Or swat him away?” His voice was ice.

“I…..I froze….”

“I suppose that’s to be expected from a woman like you,”

“I’m so-sorry,”

“How should I punish my little harlot?” Finally bending down towards you, Reiji cupped your face firmly with his gloved hand. “Your pupils are still so dilated. I doubt you’d feel my whip at all.” The thought made you shiver, and not completely out of fear. Reiji thumbed your lip idly as he thought.

“Suck….my blood?” He tsked at your suggestion.

“You ask for it so brazenly, sometimes I think you enjoy it. Hands up.” You heaved your arms up over your head as Reiji smoothly rolled your top up your body, tossing it aside once it was completely off.

“I suppose it’s my fault. I’ve been too lax with you,” he mused, settling firmly on top of you. You were particularly aware of his pelvis, pressing insistently against the cradle of your thighs. He cupped your face, drawing you close. “I need to teach you exactly who you belong to,” he said, his gaze drifting down hungrily to the column of your neck. “I’ll remind you so thoroughly of your place that even a dumb whore like you will be able to remember who owns her,” he promised, sinking his teeth viciously into your throat.

Reiji’s first bite was hard and precise, the sharp pain briefly thrusting you into lucid panic. But soon you were left with the warm afterglow of pleasure in the wake of its pain. It never stopped hurting, not entirely, but his bites always left you with a fluttering warmth. Reiji’s mouth was on you. You couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Reiji began a fast, desperate rhythm that pulled blood from you quickly, sending you reeling. You whimpered as your world whirled impossibly faster. When darkness began to flicker at the edges of your vision Reiji pulled away, burying his face into your neck. “You bring out the worst in me,” he sighed. Mouthing along your throat, he continued downward towards your collarbone. You braced yourself for another bite, but recoiled sharply when Reiji placed a delicate kiss upon your chest.

“Look at me, jealous of that pervert.” He kissed your chest again, skimming his fingers across the delicate skin of your décolletage. “Arch your back.” Curving your spine upwards, your body brushed against Reiji’s lean frame. You trembled as his hands ghosted along your back, making their way towards the clasp of your bra. Reiji unhooked it with quick ease then tossed the lacy fabric away, greedily cupping your naked breasts. A thin, breathy gasp escaped from you as Reiji dipped between them, kissing your soft curves. You tangled your hands in his hair, humming your approval. In response he tweaked your nipple harshly, sending a jolt of pain through your cloud of pleasure. You yelped at the enticing contrast.

“Let me remind you of your place. You are nothing more than food to me,” he said, pinching your nipple again with a renewed vengeance. You drunkenly brought your hands back to push him away, but he easily pinned them back above your head. “You are meat. Your blood is the only worthwhile thing about you.” Reiji sunk his teeth into the swell of your breast, drawing deep from you. Crying out, you tried to ignore the pleasure his bite ignited in you, trying to focus only on the pain.

“I can taste your arousal,” he groaned between mouthfuls. “Does your masochism know no bounds?” Reiji’s insults didn’t last as he dove back down again to litter your chest with angry bites. He’d kiss you, so tenderly it was almost painful, then pierce your sensitive skin with his sharp, pointed fangs. Once satisfied, he’d lick, suck and kiss the abused spot until an angry mark began to form. He left bruises everywhere in his wake, a garden of purple hickeys blossoming across your breasts.

The drug made it nearly impossible to meaningfully fight back but you didn’t really want to. Reiji’s words stung, but you so rarely had his attention like this. Was it because the full moon was close? You knew vampires had trouble controlling their urges when the moon was full. And Reiji so desperately wanted control: of his brothers, of you, of himself. Was this frenzied beast the real Reiji, or was his protesting, rigid persona the real him? Impossibly, you knew he had to be both. Both enraptured and repulsed by his own desires and completely unable to hide it. That was really why he was mad. Reiji’s wet tongue interrupted your musings as he lapped against your sore nipple, sending a shudder through your entire body. Unable to remove your wrists from his grasp, you retaliated by wrapping your legs around his hips, trapping him against you. Now it was Reiji’s turn to shudder, rutting himself against your core. He was hard.

“My, you really are out of it,” he murmured, grinding himself against you openly. “It’s the only explanation.”

“Explanation for what?” You panted, trying to match his thrusts. Reiji released your wrists, propping himself up on his left arm. Delicately biting the fabric across the tip of his pointer finger, he slid his glove from his hand. Ripping it away, Reiji’s bare hand skimmed down your body and over your curves. Flipping up your skirt, his fingers slid between your thighs.

“For this,” he says, tracing your wetness through your panties. Your eyes fluttered shut. “Reiji,” you breathed, arching towards his fingers.

“Say my name,” Reiji ordered softly, dipping underneath the fabric and rewarding you with long, firm strokes. You called his name again and he moved up towards your clit, circling it once before quickly pulling away. You whined at the loss.

Reiji begins a vicious rhythm, rubbing your clit with firm circles, then backing off when your pleasure mounts. He only returns to your clit when you beg him to, crying out for him. Fisting your hands in his shirt, you whine in frustration as a needy ache builds inside you. Reiji just smirks down at you, enjoying your torment. When tears start building in your eyes, he finally slides a slender finger into your heat. Beckoning upward along your inner wall, he firmly massages your g spot. Mindlessly, you grind down on his fingers, chasing your pleasure.

“Who makes you feel this good?” he asks, his ruby eyes alight with lust.

“You do,” you gasp.

“I asked you who,” he demanded, cruelly massaging your inner wall. You jerk at the pressure, almost cresting over the plateau.

“Reiji! Reiji Sakamaki!” you cry, desperate for release.

“Good girl,” he smirks, thumbing your clit. You gasp in delight, the rough, consistent circles of his fingers finally hurtling you towards your peak. “You don’t deserve this,” he growls in your ear, his deep velvety voice bewitching you. “But when I see you like this, I can’t stop myself. You’re mine.” Your orgasm hits you hard, squeezing Reiji’s fingers in hot contractions. Pleasure washes over you in a wave, your entire being gently pulsing. Reiji smugly guides you through your orgasm, only stopping his ministrations once your twitching has ceased. You sigh, melting back into the cushions of the couch. Above you, a belt buckle clinks.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Reiji says, gripping your thighs and yanking you forcefully back towards him. As he settles above you, he presses the tip of his member against your eager entrance. Pushing forward, Reiji sinks into you with ease. “My little harlot is so wet for me,” he teases, before setting a ruthless pace.

Reiji fucks you selfishly, chasing his own pleasure now that he’s satisfied yours. You lay back, still enjoying the lingering effects of his drug. His thrusts pull soft, pleasured moans from you as he plunges desperately into you. Closing your eyes, you revel in the sensations, happy to let him use you. Occasionally he’ll sheathe himself all the way inside of you and grind desperately against your cervix, trying to get as deep as he can.

“I can’t believe you like this. That you like me,” he pants softly, definitely to himself. Reiji lets you pull him down so that he is completely flush against your body. “I do. I like you, Reiji.” A groan rips from him and he stills, spilling himself inside of you.

You stay that way for a moment, holding each other tenderly in the afterglow of your love-making. You wish you could stay like this, enjoying the feeling of his body as it presses you into the cushions, gently stroking his back as both of your breathing returns to normal. But Reiji recovers faster than you do. “I’ll clean you up,” he offers, his tone clipped.

Reiji cleans you thoroughly with a warm wet towel, which feels strange but is not unenjoyable in your impaired state. It’s deeply intimate in a way that is definitely uncomfortable, but you think it’s his way of taking care of you. You close your eyes, pliant. His large hands drift over your body, tugging your top back over you and righting your skirt. Once he is finished you curl on your side, completely spent and ready to sleep. As you begin to drift off, you feel something warm and soft envelop you. A blanket? Maybe. Where did he get a blanket?

Reiji watches as you snuggle into the blanket he has recently taken to keeping in his desk, a genuine smile flickering across his stern features.

[entishramblings]

The Restricted Section [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: hey guys! sO I ended up getting like super into this one-shot and it got a little off track but I feel as if it still matches up to the request! Also I do lowkey mention some “first age lore” but I pulled it out of my ass.....just go with it tho it’s fanfiction lol

Request: Anon — I've been seeing your AMAZING writing pop up on my dash and I love it!!!! If you're not too busy (and no pressure at all to write this in a timely manner), could you possibly write a short one-shot of Legolas' reaction to unexpectedly finding someone sketching him? Bonus points if the sketch is really good, and EXTRA bonus points (and digital cookies!!) if he secretly has a crush on the person sketching? Again, no pressure!!!

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is Greenwood’s library archivist. Legolas comes to do some research. goddamn why does this summary sound dirty??

Word Count: 2,840

Warnings: none

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

Being Greenwood’s Archivist for the thousands upon thousands of treasured papers, scrolls, and books did have its perks one could say. (Y/N) not only wanted to be immersed in the secrets and stories of the world, but she was required to. She spent much of her time reading and cataloguing—not that she minded considering the knowledge she had obtained was vast and fruitful. Furthermore, she was basically permitted to do whatever she wished given that she only had to give reports to the King every couple of weeks. This left her with much appreciated free time.

Currently, the Greenwood castle was hushed as every elf was sound asleep, basking in their own dreams and memories, well...almost every elf. (Y/N) was wide awake. Her favorite time of the solar cycle was the silent hours of the night; because, here in the darkness of the sky, there was nothing more enticing than being alone in the vast silence of written secrets—especially when no one was around to catch you sneaking a peek in the restricted section.

(Y/N)’s preferred spot in the library was a very specific little nook for a handful of reasons. First of all, it was lined with tall shelves filled with different volumes and ledgers that created a private and secluded feeling. Furthermore, the lucky position of these paper-filled towers allowed for a clear eye-line to the main area of the library—an eye-line that could not be seen from outside the special little cranny. This, of course, was perfect for handling prohibited materials. Lastly, she was adjacent to a large stone fireplace where light and warmth were compelled to pour into her form. (Y/N) appreciated this, especially during the coldness of the winter months.

So here Greenwood’s Archivist sat, curled into a dark cushioned armchair within a shrouded crevice of the Library, sketching the forbidden monsters from first age lore.

The faint scrapping sound of charcoal against yellowing paper faded into the crackling of the flames while (Y/N) skillfully manipulated the material in her small, leather-bound, sketchbook. Every so often, she would pause to take a sip from the tea cup that she placed on one of bookshelves. The flavor of the warm liquid melded into the woman’s mouth; the taste of ginger and cloves folded around her tongue and initiated a warm sensation throughout her body. She really did feel at peace in this moment, cloaked in the secrets of the night.

However, that tranquility was reshaped into alarm at the sound of the large wooden doors creaking open. (Y/N) stopped her sketching and cautiously peeked through the shelves. Her lips parted and her brows furrowed when her eyes rested on the intruder.

What could the Prince of Greenwood want from the library at this hour?

(Y/N)’s eyes widened when yet another thought crossed her mind.

What would the Prince of Greenwood do if he saw a book—a restricted book—in her grasp?

Quietly, the archivist tucked the dusty green volume under the armchair and turned her sketchbook to an unmarked page. But, before she started sketching something new, her curiousness compelled her to watch the Prince.

(Y/N) smiled softly as Legolas’s calloused hand gently stroked the leather spins of every book as he strolled through the aisles. His brilliant blue eyes wandered across each title, clearly searching for something. His dark brows furrowed when he reached the end of the shelf, apparently not finding what he had been looking for. The Prince continued weaving his way between stacks of books until he was directly on the other side of (Y/N)’s shelf.

The young woman held her breath as her heart pounded.

What if he caught her in here?

She inwardly chided herself. Why would she—the archivist—get in trouble for being in the library? This was her domain, her job. Her anxieties were completely unrational.

(Y/N)’s frantic thoughts froze when one of the books began to slide away.

Still unaware of her presence, Legolas opened it to read the text on the first page. It seemed that he was content with his selection for he turned on his heal. The Prince made his was to the center of the library and sat down at one of the tables that was lit with candlelight.

After a couple moments, (Y/N) quietly stood up and walked towards the shelf. She laid her hand on the now spacious gap. The young woman frowned. He had taken a book on forestry—the sickness index. Was there something going on within the trees of her home?

Deciding to push her concerns aside, for now that is, she snuggled back into the comfort of the armchair.

From her position she was able to see the elvish prince clearly.

A little grin stretched across (Y/N)’s lips. She picked up her charcoal once more and began to sketch the outline of his form. As time went on, she shaded in the curves of his jaw, the bend of his lip, and the scowl upon his brow. It was coming together quite nicely.

She did not know how much time had past, but when she looked up from her sketch Legolas was gone. (Y/N) tilted her head slightly in confusion.

She was just looking at him.

He wouldn’t leave a burning candle and opened book unattended, would he?

The sound of paper-filled leather sliding from the shelf behind her made the archivist turn quickly. The person on the other side had sensed her movement and peaked through the hole where the book had previously rested.

“My apologies, Archivist (Y/N). I knew not that you were here.”

The young woman stuttered out a response, “Oh um, it is alright, My Prince. I....I...was just—

A smirk pulled at his pink lips when his gaze landed on her open sketchbook. “Is that me?” He questioned.

(Y/N) cheeks began to heat as she slammed the sketchbook closed, “No.”

He raised an eyebrow before walking around the tower of books that was between them.

When he entered the tiny nook he looked around at her set up—stacks of many books and ledgers piled high upon the floor, a thick blanket dangling off the armchair, and a hot cup of tea upon one of the shelves.

“I almost forgot about this space. It’s quite cozy with the fire, is it not?” He said.

Legolas made his was towards her and gently held out his hand. Nodding at the leather-bound sketchbook, he spoke, “May I?”

She couldn’t exactly refuse the Prince, now could she?

Wordlessly she passed it to him.

Ever so carefully he began to flip through the pages—birds, horses, forestry, flowers, creeks, pillars, stones, and, of course, people. There were a handful of sketches of elves that he recognized as maids and servants—likely her friends, he guessed. Additionally, there was a fair amount of pictures of the guards and even one of his father. The coroner of his lip pulled upwards again when he found one of himself, and another, and another. His expression then changed to surprised amusement at what looked to be a demon. Strange. He shot her a playful look and by her reaction he was sure she knew which sketch he was looking at. Legolas continued studying the charcoal art pieces until he turned to last marked page—to the one she had just completed: him.

“These are quite good, (Y/N). Have you ever considered abandoning the library for art?”

“Well, no. It is just a hobby of mine, I suppose.”

He nodded and handed the sketchbook back to her, “And the demon?”

“Ahh yes....um, well....”

She glanced down at the floor as she stuttered. Anxiety flashed across her eyes at the sight of the corner of the green volume peaking out. She kicked it under the chair quickly.

However, her action did not escape the observation of the Prince. Yet again, he raised a brow.

Legolas knelt down and tugged the book out. He read the title aloud, “First Age Index, Volume IV. Morgoth’s Experimentation.” A deep chuckle escaped Legolas’s chest, which of course was not the reaction (Y/N) had been expecting. The Prince spoke again, clearly entertained by the situation. “Let me guess—from the restricted section.”

“Of course not!”

Legolas stifled a laugh. “(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?” She responded while avoiding his gaze.

“You are a terrible liar.”

The young woman looked up at him, “I—I am not!”

Legolas rolled his eyes. However, the playful expression faltered and his face instantly melted into what looked to be a sudden realization.

He swiftly stood up and tapped his palm against the cover of the book. “Does the restricted section have lore on earth sickness and forest disease from the first and second age?”

“I—erm...I haven’t been in the restricted section, My Lord,” she stammered.

He shook his head, “Again, (Y/N). You are a terrible liar.”

She sighed in defeat before speaking reluctantly, “It does.”

“Take me to it.”

The Archivist led him towards the gated shadow-ridden corridor and stood still.

Legolas offered her a sideways glance.

She sighed; now her days of browsing the forbidden knowledge were over.

(Y/N) pressed her finger against the lock and slammed a closed fist on the latch. It instantly creaked open.

The Prince’s eyes shown with amusement but she just shrugged and stepped through the gate.

He was enjoying this way too much.

They walked into the circular room; light poured in from a high window, showing the dust dancing through the stale air. (Y/N) led him straight to the section he had requested. She then began to pull out books, ledgers, and scrolls; placing them in Legolas’s arms until they were piled high to his chin.

The two then exited the restricted section and (Y/N) locked up the gate once more.

Legolas then followed the young elven woman towards the table he had previous occupied. The Prince carefully set the overflowing stack of knowledge down. He opened one of the books and skimmed the beginning index before speaking.

“Ada (father) did not believe me when I said something has been stirring in our forest. My senses pick up a darkness nearing for the trees have gone silent and the animals run west. Yet, the insects increase—specifically the spiders.”

She frowned.

Interesting. Interesting indeed.

The archivist rocked on her heals for a moment, contemplating asking the question that persisted in her mind. “So, does this mean I am not in trouble for reading the restricted section?”

Legolas shrugged, “What Ada (father) doesn’t know, can’t make him angry. Besides, this is too important.”

(Y/N) hopped up onto the table and sat with her legs dangling over the edge. She grabbed a book from the pile and began reading.

What was making their forest sick?

.....

Legolas and many members of the guard had just arrived back in Greenwood after patrolling the east end of the forest. The Prince sat in the armory ridding himself of the countless weapons that clung to his body. He let his thoughts wander as he did so.

Two months had past since he had come across (Y/N) sketching in the library; and ever since, the two elves had met every night—well every night that Legolas was not on patrol. They had moved from researching at the table to scrutinizing in the comfort of (Y/N)’s favorite crevice of the library. The archivist sat in her leather armchair while the prince rested on the floor, leaning against a bookcase. The space was quite cramped, but he didn’t mind. Besides, it allowed him to study (Y/N) as she sketched and read. He would be lying if he said his heart did not yearn for her.

Additionally, the formality of titles between them was left behind as the two had become quite close. Legolas appreciated this; often many treated him differently because of his royalty, but not (Y/N). Furthermore, no longer was she concerned about the repercussions of reading material from the restricted section. Besides, if Thranduil somehow found out and was to punish her for it, he would have to punish his son.

“Prince Legolas!”

He looked up as his name was called. Legolas offered a warm smile to the guard who spoke. “Meludir, I trust patrol went well for you?”

The dark hair ellon nodded in response. “Are you going to the library after this?”

Legolas shrugged, “Perhaps.”

A light laugh fell from Meludir’s lips, “To see (Y/N)?”

The Prince’s brows furrowed. “Well, she is helping me with some research.”

Meludir smirked, “Research hmm? You are aware there has been some whispers flying around?”

Legolas tilted his head in confusion.

“Well, you spend much time with her. Enough to end up in her sketchbook—on multiple pages.”

The blonde elf bit back a smile. Of course Legolas was aware that during their research (Y/N) would put down the scrolls and ledgers and pick up charcoal and paper; and, quite frankly, he did not mind. But he was unaware of how Meludir knew if this so he opted to ask. “How do you know of her sketches?”

Meludir grinned, “I may have stumbled across it in the library very late one night.” He paused, “You can imagine my surprise when I went to find light reading material but came across the Prince and the Archivist throwing books at each other’s heads.”

Legolas looked down at his dirt ridden boots to hide the smiled that surfaced from that memory.

This of course did not escape Meludir’s gaze. The young ellon chuckled at his superior’s behavior and clapped him on the shoulder. “Best you head over there then.”

.....

The sun had set and the moon had taken its place. Legolas strutted into the library after he had washed up and changed into fresh clothes. He quickly made his way to the little nook filled with all their research.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned when he came to an empty space.

“Over here!”

He whipped his head around to see the young archivist thirty feet up a ladder; she was reaching for a book that rested near the rafters.

She called out to him again, “Come catch this!”

He walked towards her until he stood at the foot of the ladder. (Y/N) then let the heavy book fall through the still air; it landed perfectly in the prince’s waiting hands.

The archivist grasped onto two more books before gracefully climbing down. “Come on then, we must get reading. The sun won’t stop rising for us.”

She plopped down in her armchair and Legolas sat in his usual spot across from her. After a couple hours of endless reading and research, (Y/N) gasped.

“Legolas! I have found it!”

His head shot up, “What?”

“The—the sickness...the darkness. What you have described to me is exactly what a scribe wrote in an old Quenya dialect: Telerin. I’ve been translating it.” She stated as she moved the position of one of the three books in her lap. “It says it right here. Before the rise of Sauron.....animals fleeing, insect population stirring, trees going silent—“ (Y/N) stood up in excitement. “I found it, Legolas! I found it!”

The Prince leapt to his feet. Full of emotion, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her form up. He spun around quickly as little laughs left the woman’s lips.

Legolas set her down, but did not remove his arms from around her waist. “After all this time of researching....you—you did it!” He paused, “You are very brilliant, you know that (Y/N)?”

She shrugged, “Well, I don’t—“

He interrupted her, “You are, (Y/N). You are. You know this library as I know the woods. You were able to make connections between books and scrolls that I never would have seen. You were able to analyze data and translate languages with no trouble. You are incredibly intelligent....and I admire that.”

The young woman’s eyes drew to the floor and her cheeks heated.

“(Y/N)...” Legolas whispered while cupping her chin.

He lifted her face and the air seemed to still between them as their eyes locked.

“Legolas, I—“ She whispered.

He did not let her finish. He gently pressed his pink lips against hers and (Y/N) instantly responded. The earthy smell of dirt and trees filled the archivist’s nostrils as paper and fire filled the prince’s. It was almost hypnotic. As the two let their mouths dance against each other slowly, reality melted away. Legolas pulled her form closer and she obliged. (Y/N) snaked her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his loose blonde locks. The Prince let his hands wander down her back and across her hips, feeling every curve. The young woman could not help but feel a wave of warmth wash over her for she had craved this. The kiss was calm, gentle, and full of innocent love.

When the two reluctantly pulled away for air, (Y/N) rested her head in the crook of his neck.

“Do you know what this means, Legolas?” She whispered.

“You heart craves mine as much as mine craves yours?” He responded quietly.

“Well yes, but no....I meant about the forest. The sickness—it’s darkness. Sauron’s darkness. He is returning.”

.......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary

Legolas Tag: @dark-angel-is-back

If you wanna be in the tag list lmk

[0risha]

“BONES.”

✰ PAIRING ⤷ dabi x fem!reader

SUMMARY ⤷ It took him over a decade to muddle his brain with different memories to overshadow his past ones, not wanting for the abstained shadows of remembrance to embrace him.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you.

Dabi doesn’t trust himself.

He doesn’t trust the color of his mind to stay in the now state it’s in. If Touya Todoroki were to unwrap the gauze that clung to his very being, he’d fall apart. And he couldn’t have that. This unforgiving life of his had finally unfolded its palms and given him a gift and he’d stay sane for as long as he could to enjoy it.

✰ WC ⤷ 6.6k?

✰ TAGS ⤷ major angst, there is fluff though pinky promise, there’s a suggestive line, please don’t cancel me, it was detrimental to the story manga spoilers, a few curse words, character death, very, very soft dabi, shigaraki is an ass

NOTES ⤷ this is, indeed, the longest thing I've written that wasn't for school. and the summary is just a blurb because i had no idea what to write there. lol, I'm sitting at my laptop while crying my eyes out...... but uh.... I hope you like it ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ

You smoke, Dabi takes that into account on the first day he sees you. Dabi hates cigarettes, despises them. He hates that itchy feeling his lungs get whenever he takes a drag, hates the way it makes him feel abyssal, co-dependent. And if there's one thing that Dabi hates, it's relying on something else that wasn't him self.

With that into consideration, he’s not entirely sure why you catch his eye, you’re not typically the type he goes for. He usually chose the dainty ones, the ones that were so eager to experience a jive of thrill, they don’t realize that they’ve encountered a person who played an important role in one of the most powerful villain organizations. 

You're in the corner of a dingy bar, the dim lights somehow doing your angelic features justice. The light catches the glint of your name tag and the pastel blue of your scrubs. You look tired. Even from a far distance, he can see the sunken tent of your cheeks. The cigarette stick which hangs from in between your index finger and middle is halfway from becoming a stub. The plastic platter of pretzels that sit across from your chest is untouched as you grumble out replies to the bartender who's trying to make conversation with —a very uninterested— you.

When the clock hits eleven, your bar stool is scraping the ground as you attempt to leave. The relentless bartender grabs your arm with one last plea. His voice raising when you deny the idea that you should give him your number because you're too pretty to be by yourself. With one last pull, you stomp away towards the exit. Dabi doesn't know if it's because he's a villain too, but he follows after you. His senses telling him that there’s no way the bartender who you’d just rejected would let his wounded pride stay unbandaged. 

He’s careful not to make any noises with the soles of his boots. The absence of street lights concealing his figure. Unbeknownst to him, his body enforces the skills he uses while stalking his next prey. His languid motions flowing with the same transverse as the cold, biting wind.

And you don’t notice a thing, your hands stuffed into the pockets of your thick silver jacket. But when your walking comes to a stop, Dabi’s heart nearly tumbles out from his chest. Not a second later, you pull out a pack of cigarettes and place one to your lips, lighting it in one go. When you resume walking, Dabi’s body internally holds a jubilee with jeers of relief. He’s not exactly sure why he’s helping you but what type of person would he be if he let a pretty lady like you get hurt? 

At the thought, his throat tickles with the hope to let out a laugh.

When Dabi hears the crunch of leaves that bounce off the cracked concrete, for the second time that night he nearly breaks into a fit of laughter. The culprit’s first step is to trap you behind the fenced wall and his burly figure. What an amateur.

A part of Dabi wants to wait and see what you do. Are you a regular civilian? Do you have a strong quirk that would fight him off? His trail of thought evaporates when you hiccup out a laugh, smoke from the corner of your lips flowing into the man’s face. Dabi’s eyebrows quirking up with interest. What’s your next act?

After several hitches of breath, nothing comes and Dabi finally decides to step in as he feels the waves of anger emitting from the balding, middle-aged man who has you cornered.

The confrontation is brief —when the bartender turns to glance at an approaching lean, scarred figure, he scurries off without a word.

“Didn’t have to help me, I had it in the bag.” You squint at your savior as your cigarette bobs with the movement of your full lips. His stature towers over yours but you don’t seem the little bit phased. 

“You weren’t scared,” he says and it’s more of a question than a statement. His cool voice sends a frosty layer through each stack of your vertebrae. Though, it slowly ebbs away as you study his features and realize how pretty he is —his eyes a pool of melted lapis. Sharp cheekbones molded to accustom to scars and silver staples that do nothing but add to your thinking connotation of him being ambiguity personified. 

“Yeah, even if he did... you know.” You wave your hand. “He would’ve died sooner or later.” Dabi’s eyes narrow in confusion as he catches the way your eyelashes flutter prettily against your skin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh.. uh- he had heart issues, the kind you can’t recover from.” You remove the lit stick from your lips and give him a full-toothed smile. “Thank you, Mr. Stranger.” And with that, you turn away and resume your lethargic walk down an empty alleyway.

Must be your quirk. Dabi thinks as he watches your figure disappear into the grasping shadows of the night. When he returns to the battered LOV hideout, he goes out of his way to avoid any interaction with the League. Refusing to taint his memory of your pretty smile and pretty face.

The next time Dabi sees you, you’re in the same place. This time you’re not wearing scrubs, opting for a more casual look with a baby blue top that contrasts nicely with your skin and jeans that accentuate your figure. You don't have a pack of cigarettes either.

Unlike before, you notice his stare and you bathe in it. The bartender from the other day all but glances at you. Amusingly, you turn to glance at the brooding figure in the corner of the bar with a knowing look.

After two beers and spinning courage, you walk towards Dabi with sway in your step. His eyes follow your movement until you decide to situate yourself next to him in the booth. His low lids focus on you as you fidget with your manicured fingers. Cute. He thinks. You’re too cute for your own good. 

“What’s your name?” You break the silence. Teeth gnawing into the plush dent of your bottom lip.

Dabi takes his time to mull over his answer, he doesn’t notice the way his body temperature flares nor the tiny blue flames that threaten to dance on his scabbed knuckles. A grasp —an unfamiliar cloak, wraps its fabric around his shoulders. Prickles of his being push with urgency to ease it away but it’s all in vain.

“Touya.” 

Touya, from the corner of his eye, watches your eyes light up with interest. Bright and wide with swirling specks of gaiety— joy. Which Dabi guesses are because of him. He turns his attention away from you, not wanting to get warped into your pretty eyes that sparkle just from hearing his name. 

“S’ a pretty name,” you whisper. Sporting a subtle grin, one that blows wide when you see all four chambers of his heart pumping wildly with blood. 

“Can you walk me home, Touya?”

It goes on like this, again and again —conversations with Touya at the back of the bar, sitting next to him in the grimy booth. His replies are quip ones but you know he’s listening to your idle chatter because you feel the way his eyes bore into your skull. 

The night always comes to a close with both of you walking shoulder to shoulder, the plans of your upcoming day echoing off the bounds of the night sky. You live in an apartment building, a shitty one. He remembers you complaining about the squeaky floorboards, your loud neighbors, and the pervy, greasy-haired landlord that barges through your door at the most unreasonable times of the day. Touya raises his eyebrow at that.

“I’ll take care of him for you.” The words fly past his lips before he can stop them. 

Your response is a peal of robust laughter that comes to a halt when you pull out a cigarette. “I’ll be sure to come to you,” you say. Today marked the thirtieth time you both engaged in subtle conversation. He takes note in the fact that you only smoke when you wear scrubs —the rope of curiosity gets the best of him.

“I have to keep up with the appearance of my two personalities, duh.” Touya has no clue what you mean but your clipped tone tells him that he shouldn't pry.

Meanwhile, your eyes flit to his sapphire ones than to his lips.

“Touya?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I kiss you?” You watch the way his eyes widen with a low giggle. 

But before he can answer, your lips are already on his. He’s quick to take action as he cups the underside of your jaw, your breath minty even though you just had a smoke. His head’s a mess, there’s a jumble of terms that fail to come together and form coherent ones. The only thing his brain can commit is the pillowy softness of your lips. Sadly, he can’t enjoy the whole experience. His bottom lip erased with the tissue needed to feel, only leaving a purpled patch in its wake. 

For a second, his chest tides over with a tinge of shame but it’s quickly washed away as you pull him even closer. Your small, gentle fingers carding through his soft, inky tresses.  

The kiss ends when you pull away with a breathless sigh. You stay close to him, noses nearly touching as once shared breaths mingle. His hands are on your hips now, slowly kneading the soft flesh. A couple of seconds dart by as your dark eyes stare into his bright ones. The low-lighted area giving them a fascinating glow.

You want to tell him how pretty he looks at this moment. His flustered expression causing your gut to simmer with heat.

You need to tell him how nicely entrapped his presence always makes you feel but something in you decides against it, choosing to save it for another time. So you search for an alternative, breath growing unsteady as you stumble across one.

“Can you....walk me home, Touya?” This time it's different from the first night you asked him.

This time your voice trails off with a much different undertone.

››››››››››››››››››››› ~★~ ›››››››››››››››››››››

Touya wakes up before you do. Peeks of the sun squeeze through your bedroom blinds, casting a shining glow on your skin. As he studies your peaceful features, he encounters a divulgence. One that causes his skin to crawl with parasites that immediately beg him to keep up with this facade. To derive a little longer and enjoy this bliss at his own expense. However, Touya decides against it. It’s quite obvious that he’s not the safest person to be around, his appearance giving that thought away. 

It might be better if he tells you first, he thinks.

It might be better if he lets a precious thing like you go before he builds a stockpile of lies that’ll eventually come crashing down when the realization finally hits. 

“I’m a villain, you know,” he murmurs as he watches your eyelids flutter open. He grimaces as he tries to think of what your reaction may be. The first words you woke up to would have to be that you’d let a criminal into your home —into your bed.

He sits up to place his back on your cool headboard. The bell of anxiousness that sits at the pit of his stomach rings after a few beats of silence. You turn to stare at his upright figure with two arms tucked underneath your satin pillow. “I know, m’ not stupid, Touya.” You grumble, turning your head to return to sleep.

“What?” His eyebrows knit has his chest shutters with disbelief. 

You ignore his bewilderment. “Since we’re confessing our deepest, darkest secrets can I tell you what could’ve been my villain origin story?” Touya stares at your face before bursting into laughter, one that nearly causes the staples around his jaw to unhinge. Though, this laughter is one of relief.

 A part of him doesn’t believe it. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever done a deed so right, so pure, that had earned him someone like you. The only thing his reeling mind can suffice is that he had killed a scum in some random, dirty alley that ended up being the lowest of the low. At the random thought, he laughs some more. 

“What?” You can’t help but giggle, his laughter —which was a rare entity— made you giddy with joy. “I’m serious!” You pout, turning away from him to feign anger, your ears stay perked up as his smooth, rich laughter fills your bedroom with warmth. 

“Okay, fine I won’t tell you.” His laughter trails off as he moves from the headboard to lie directly across from you. 

“Alright, tell me.” His abnormal body heat causes you to shuffle closer until you rest your head on his chest. 

When your story is done, he can’t help but stare at the ceiling in cerebrate silence.

At the age of fifteen, a program introduced by the hero association had recruited kids with abilities related to the medical field. Yours being an x-ray like quirk that allowed you to detect diseases, broken bones, and infections. Ones even normal x-ray’s couldn’t see. Forced to drop out of high school to take nursing classes and discard your latest stage of childhood life, you’d already become a registered nurse before the ripe age of nineteen. You worked in a special division, one where you only dealt with pro-heroes. You tell Touya about your worst encounter, one where you diagnosed a collection of broken ribs and the incapability to do hero work for several weeks and got shoved so hard that your ankle had twisted. Fortunately, the program had been discarded when you were twenty. With your inability to do other things that weren’t related to nursing you decided to stay one. 

“Where were your parents?” It takes you a second to answer, chest deflating in the worst kind of way as you remember your father and mother’s shame-ridden faces staring back at your own —your's ridden with disbelief.

“They got money, so it didn’t really matter what happened to me.” You whisper, using the soft pad of your index finger to trace his scarred skin.

“Wanted to be a writer, Touya.” You try your best to hold in your cries but to no avail. “Wanted to write a best-seller,” You laugh, but it’s overshadowed by the watery sob that follows.

And with that, he finally understands. You’re two personas, a writer and a nurse. His chest tides up with pride once he realizes that he’s probably the first person to see and understand what they both mean to you.

“You can still be one,” he says. But it’s a promise of his own in disguise. I’ll change the world for you, make it so you can do anything you want to. It echoes from his every syllable and trails off with a familiar lilt.

And you see it too —hope-filled eyes flit to glittering ones. His, a bright pair of blue gems that shine with raw, unfiltered passion- yet to be completely polished. Against your will, every tendril of your being untwines and wraps itself around his words- you believe him. Unconsciously, your lips blow into a wide smile. “I’ll hold you to it, Touya.”

The stagnant air diffuses once you ask him a question, “when’s your birthday?” 

Internally, you kick yourself in the shin as Touya shoots you a whimsical look. You’re not sure why this is the first personal question you decide to ask him.

But to you, Touya’s painted in grey, moral wise. You’ve only known him for less than a month, his background revealed the same night you met him. When you were with Touya, he didn’t seem like a villain. Villains were supposed to be vile, viscous people that didn’t dissolve properly into the troughs of today’s society. 

His touch was gentle, handling you with nothing other than care. But you’re sure he’s used those same nimble fingers to inflict pain on whomsoever he chose. To you, Touya’s a jigsaw. You’re prepared —at least you think you are— to solve it. Prepared to start with the small pieces. And when those gradually come together, you’d use them as a guide. Treading carefully to work from known to unknown. 

However, Touya prays to the gods that you don’t use your quirk to see the way his heart pumps wildly and the way his breath hitches. It took him over a decade to muddle his brain with different memories to overshadow his past ones not wanting for the abstained shadows of remembrance to embrace him. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you.

Dabi doesn’t trust himself. 

He doesn’t trust the color of his mind to stay in the now state it’s in. If Touya Todoroki were to unwrap the gauze that clung to his very being, he’d fall apart. And he couldn’t have that. This unforgiving life of his had finally unfolded its palms and given him a gift and he’d stay sane for as long as he could to enjoy it.

“December 15th.” Your eyes widen when you realize the day was when you both had met. “I was your birthday gift then, huh.” You giggle, pressing closer to his body to feel the erratic thump of his heart.

“Guess so.” A good lie is always better than the truth. 

That’s what he tells himself when Tomura asks where he’s been for the past couple of months. Vehement, crimson eyes digging into Dabi’s skull.  He scoffs in annoyance, opting to tell the blue-haired man that he’d been out of town to scout for new members. Rummaging through underground areas where the average of villains was the thickest. 

And yes, they’re all lies. He’s happy that Tomura is as dumb as he looks. Though it may be because Dabi has mastered the art of weaving intricate webs of lies- he’s grateful, nonetheless. 

When Dabi turns away from him, Tomura’s eyes narrow.  

Shigaraki Tomura isn’t as dumb as he looks. But Dabi didn’t know that -at least, not yet.

Here in the LOV hideout, where Dabi’s just a ruthless flame kindler, he finds no self-content, only impatience. Sometimes, taking part in Toga’s antics as a source of entertainment, her bloodlust too damn thick to ignore.

Impatience, a contagious drug that filters through Dabi’s veins and causes his blood to sear whenever he thinks about the overturn he wants hero society to so badly face. It’s the only way this ache of his can be soothed.

At first, it was just for him to bask in -for him to enjoy. For him to see a part of his past, burn. To see a rage of flames that -in time, turned to a cinder, his memories with it. 

But now, he wants you to see it too. He wants to keep you tucked by his side as everything unfolds. Knowing this, he waits. Dabi’s not naive, this dream of his isn’t a one-man act. 

Though, the biggest step closer to glory comes earlier than expected…

He’s a hero, the number two pro hero in all of Japan. His speed and the aid of his wings being his strongest suit. The information he provides is what still causes the Leauge to thrive. And the reason that Shigaraki now knows of the Meta Liberation Army. A powerful villain organization that rivaled Tomura’s very own. Led by a man named Destro, a name that every villain’s supposed to know. Kuriogi tells him this in his usual monotone voice, he’s the founder and now his son currently leads the army. The thing is, Dabi does know but for other reasons. His father was a hero after all.

Shigaraki orders Dabi to keep watch over Hawks. Sure, Dabi has his suspicions too, but he couldn’t differentiate if it’s the hostility he feels after he learns Hawks’ friendly relationship with Endeavor or for the fact that several missions had been deemed as errors because of the red-winged man’s mistakes. 

Though, his stress dissipates when he comes home to you. It didn’t take a lot of time for Touya to get accustomed to your apartment. He’s used to living in shitty places, the League had been -and still is- living in one for months. 

Fortunately, your landlord never comes around. You think it’s because of Touya’s intimidating presence but it stretches farther than that. Farther into the territory of what makes Touya into the fearful villain he is. But, you didn’t have to know that. Touya deliberates. You were stressed enough as it is.

Sometimes you’re not even home, late shift reminders overtaking your flimsy calendar. On those days, when you return, you’re so tired that Touya has to undress and bathe you himself. It’s never a toll, he enjoys listening to your barely decipherable recaps of your day, ones that sometimes turn into angry speeches of frustration that he’s sure to soothe with soft kisses to your pursed lips.

“Touya,” you whisper. Head in the crook of his neck while he lathers your body with body wash. Your head’s cloudy, exhaustion taking its home in your body. 

“Mhmm.”

“Love you, like.. a lot.” The words bleed together with little to no pauses. It’s so slurred that Touya has to mull over it.

When he finally separates them in his head, he pauses. Eyes going wide as the grip on the pink loofah loosens. 

Those words had never been emitted between you two. They were the three forbidden syllables that hung still, frozen in mid-air. It should’ve been easy to say. So easy to confess if push ever came to shove and the tides of adoration ever became too much to bear.

Despite that - in Touya’s head, his sole belief was that he was a package of damaged goods. What solace could you find if he ever told you that he loved you? Would it bring you happiness- fear?

Months had passed between the two of you, the light of winter and spring passing with intertwined hands. But what if- what if- you didn’t love Touya as much as he thought? What if you stayed by his side because you took pity on him? Took pity on a man who had no efficiency, no worth, no value, and used it to your heart’s content to mend yourself together.

Unbeknownst to him, those thoughts had run aimlessly across your mind as well. Both of you were damaged goods. Both of you unfamiliar with the thrum of the common melody. 

When you feel his movements halt, a part of you feels victorious.

Oh, how lucky you were for being high on delirium. This was a chance pulled out of luck’s pocket. 

“Don’t gotta say it, I see it.” He lowers his gaze to see you staring intensely at his chest. Which no doubt encases an organ that beats wildly because of your words. For the first time in a long time, he grows embarrassed. A streak of red blossoms from under his scarred cheeks as he chooses to hide his head in your neck, inhaling the strong citrusy scent of your body wash. 

Hesitantly, you brush your fingers across the expanse of his back. Careful to avoid rough skin. Hoping that with your touch, you can convey a message of understanding. 

I love you Touya and I know you love me.

››››››››››››››››››››› ~★~ ›››››››››››››››››››››

On a week that you’re finally off from work, you choose to spend it with Touya. He‘s barely out anyways. When you ask him why he’s never out doing villainy things. He answers with, “to spend time with you, princess.” A chortle at the end of his sentence when he sees you duck your head in embarrassment. 

“Wanna go dress shopping with me tomorrow?” You ask, taking a handful of potato chips in your palm, focus still on your tv show -which Touya believes is the most boring thing he’s ever come across.

He turns to glance at you, eyebrows knitted as he contemplates. 

He knows he shouldn’t, situations where his identity might be discovered, wouldn’t be good for the both of you. 

And if Tomura were to find out…. the possibilities were too endless and Touya would keel over before he put your life in jeopardy.  

But he still says yes- he’s never actually seen you wear a dress, he tells you. A subtle smile adorning his lips when he sees yours. He doesn’t ask why you want to buy a dress all of a sudden but he doesn’t mind.

The next day, you dress him up in a big burly coat that you had found at a thrift store years ago. Touya scrunches up his nose in disdain as you pull it up to cover his purple-hued scars, the fabric smelling oddly like sulfur. If it weren’t for the way you seemed so focused on hiding his identity he would’ve discarded the clothing a long time ago. He thinks the last straw is when you plop a pair of dark sunglasses on his nose.

“Don’t look at me like that!” you fuss. “I tried my best.” 

“Was your best option really a combination of coat and sunglasses?” He exasperates, voice coming out muffled.

“What... I can’t hear you?” You cup the back of your ear, feigning curiosity.  

He rolls his eyes at your comment. “Whatever, let’s go.”

You grab your silver coat from your rack and walk outside, both of you making it to your beat-down  Honda. As Touya shuffles in the passenger seat you can’t help but giggle at his uncomfortable posture, they turn louder when he turns to glare at you but fails miserably, his intimidating face shrouded by the coat and glasses. 

When you enter the boutique a small ding of a bell hits your ear. You smile in victory once you realize the vacancy. A short lady with gray hair waddles towards you and Touya. “Well, hello there!” She exclaims her soft voice matching with the appearance of her shop. Sweet and adorable. “What are you two looking for today.” She walks closer to you two, her motherly aura shrouding you in contentment. 

“Well… I’m not entirely too sure,” you say, clasping your hands behind your back. “But something blue and flowy.” You hum.

“Blue and flowy, you say?” She turns. “Follow me.”

You turn to glance at Touya, whose attention is already on you. You grab his hand and follow behind. She leads you to a wide room, the smell of laundry detergent filtering through the air. Your eyes widen once you see the rows of dresses adorned in plastic.

“These are all my babies.” She waves and turns to you with an expectant look, eyes crinkling as she gives you a warm smile.

“They’re real pretty, aren't they?” You nod. “Well, the dressing rooms are back there.” She points to the far right. “If you need anything just come to me, I’ll be at the front desk.” 

You walk towards the small corridor of dressing rooms and pick the first one you see. Pushing Touya into the stall, you place your hands on your hip after clicking the door shut. He takes his sunglasses off and shoots you a quizzical look.

“Show me your flames,” you breathe out, palms growing clammy as nervousness starts to set in. 

You wring your hands as you watch his adam's apple bob, his stare turning hard. “No.” 

You cross your arms and plead. “Please Touya, I wanna find a dress that matches your flames. They’re probably really pretty… don’t know why you won’t show me.” Your voice trails off.

He had an idea that this would happen sooner or later. There were times where you did see his flames but those were accidents. He always made sure to quickly extinguish them when he caught your peering eyes. 

His chest floods with guilt once he sees your disappointed expression. He didn’t think his flames were pretty. He’d melted too many flays of flesh to count. The last thing he wanted to do was show you the bright-tinged spirit responsible for his grave sins.

But one dilemma Touya has is that he can’t ever seem to jump over the weak spot he has for you. So, he gives a meek - fine.

He watches your features light up with glee, only hoping that you wouldn’t regret asking him for this. “Can I take the coat off, first?” You hum, scrambling to do it for him. Revealing his plain white tee and his dark black jeans. 

“Step back for me,” he whispers, gnawing at the bottom of his scarred lip. He opens the palm of his hand- to first, show a tiny blue flame that sways languidly. Progressively, he increases the flame until it engulfs his hand and upper wrist. When he looks up from his palm to your face, he’s surprised to see that your eyes aren't menacingly calculating or searching for release from fear. Instead, you look on in astonishment. 

He sees the reflection of his flames in your eyes and from that circled mirror, a tiny nibble of his conscience starts to ebb with pride of his quirk. 

After gushing about how pretty his flames look, you commit the color to memory. Dashing out of the stall to search for a dress, humming a tune when you envision his reaction to seeing you in such a nice, quaint dress on such a special day. 

He perks up once you unlock the door, expecting you to change and show him what you’ve found. But instead, he’s met with your smiling face and what seems to be a dress -shrouded in a velvet coverup. “Don’t look so disappointed.” You wag your finger in front of his face. “You’ll see it soon.”

When December rolls by with chilly air as company, you start to see Touya less and less. He never does tell you what exactly it is he does while out doing villain work. Though, he did tell you that his absences would occur more and more since he and his league were working hard to take down a villain organization. 

Your eyebrows had furrowed at that. “I thought villains were supposed to band together,” you asked, head resting on his thigh as you stared up at his face. “Not ones with different philosophies,” he had said, hand suspiciously inching closer and closer to your chest. You hummed, still confused. 

It might sound naive, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Hero society didn’t interest you. You couldn’t say villains did either but Touya was one. One of the bigshots. 

Once, when you’d seen him on the little tv in the corner of your break room, it took a lot in you to not crack a smile. Though the idea of bringing chaos into the world with wide arms made your nerves rack with trepidation, you had Touya, and that seemed like enough. 

Fortunately, Touya not being home was a benefit to your plan. You’d already scheduled your days off for work and booked the reservations for the fancy restaurant that was at least an hour’s drive from your apartment building. It was hard work, but for Touya’s birthday, it was all worth it.

››››››››››››››››››››› ~★~ ›››››››››››››››››››››

Shigaraki Tomura does not like to be lied to. 

If he had written commandments for the people he came across, that would be his first line, golden engraved. It’s an unexplainable feeling he gets. If he could, he’d describe it as an itchy, hot coil that warps across his skin. It’s not painful, it’s simply annoying. And he feels it nearly every day. The scars that mar his neck being a result of it. 

Why does the world have to be riddled with so many liars? 

Dabi’s a liar, he knows that much. Hawks, that red-winged hero may be one too, but he’d deal with that when things finally came into play. 

Now, he focuses on the man Dabi truly is. Villains lie. Shigaraki knows this, he’s a villain too. But- he tells the truth when it comes to his goals. 

He tells the truth with what he wants. 

What he wants LOV to bring. 

What he wants society to flood with.

So why couldn’t Touya Todoroki do the same?

Shigaraki Tomura’s smart and Dabi is a fool to not see this. Who came up with the plans? The missions? The very concept of LOV? Sure, AFO had shaped him into who he was today but he was the same man locked in Tartarus, not Tomura.

When Tomura finds the roots of Dabi’s lies through Kurogiri’s peering eyes. It takes an hour of pleading for the ghastly man to convince Tomura not to find Dabi and disintegrate him into a fine pile of dust. 

“Why should I!” Tomura shouts, his ruby eyes glaring into Kurogiri’s yellow ones. “He lied to me.” Shigaraki spits out the word so hastily and it’s as if saying the word itself was a sin of its own. Kurogiri nods, silently transmitting his words of understanding, not wanting to raise his temper even higher. 

“But Dabi’s an important member of the League, Tomura.” Kurogiri coaxes. “In a week or so, we’ll be off to fight with M.L.A. If anything give him a warning, a threat. Just don’t kill the boy.” Shigaraki takes a second to glare at Kurogiri but eventually, his shoulders sag with defeat. 

Even though Dabi had committed the gravest sin, he’d show mercy. 

Begrudgingly, he grabs the cup of orange juice from Kurogiri’s hand, his thoughts flying at a fast pace, anger refusing to subside. All until his thinking cogs get stuck on one idea, one thought. 

The thought crawls out from his mind and paints his expression with one of sickening glee. His smile so wide, that rivulets of blood dribble down from his cracked lips. His tongue darts out to lap up the tangy liquid as he gets high on this idea, on this revelation. 

Shigaraki Tomura needs Dabi but Shigaraki Tomura does not need you.

Tomura knows everything about you, your background, your parents, the countless homes you had to reside in, where you live as of now- where you and Dabi live as of now. Where you work and what exactly you’re planning to do on the 15th day of December. It’s terrifyingly easy to uncover reservation logs.

You’re a pretty woman, Tomura could admit that. But you were a stain in his perfect, webbed canvas of the future. Those countless months where he had expected Dabi to be his righteous subordinate and listen to his demands were spent with you. Cooped up at your run-down apartment doing god knows what. 

Tomura’s teeth grit as he digs into the flesh of his neck, specks of blood underneath his fingernails while he fervently scratches the already scabbed skin. Kurogiri glances over at him, seemingly reading his mind. 

“I’m leaving.” Shigaraki swipes up from his dusty seat. Oh, how he missed the elegance of his LOV’s old hideout. 

“Don’t forget AFO’s orders concerning Gigantomachia.” 

Tomura blinks once, twice. “That thing has way too much HP.” He breathes out. 

“For now, I need to do something else.” He whispers, bringing his embalmed hand to rest on his face.

››››››››››››››››››››› ~★~ ›››››››››››››››››››››

Whenever Touya thought of coincidences he thought of the word luck. It was a coincidence that Touya had been at the same bar as you, a coincidence that because of your lack of care for hero society that you’d glossed over the fact that he was a villain. But as Touya stood in your empty apartment, bloody and bruised from his prior fight, his connotation of coincidences slowly turned sour. A bitter taste sat on his tastebuds as he read over your note. 

Happy Birthday Touya, my love.

meet me at the Burqoues Restaurant! 

Take an uber…. I don’t have any money for one 

(using it on the restaurant money) 

so I’ll just take my car.

p.s. you’ll get to see my dress. 

It was a coincidence that the day he told you was his birthday was the very day the League of Villians had merged with the Meta Liberation Army. Touya didn’t know what this grappling hook of fear was, but as he saw that your Honda was still idly parked in that weird angle you always had a habit of doing -it came to take its hold around his neck. 

Maybe you’d actually found a couple of bucks and took an uber instead. Right? 

You were probably in the restaurant, ordering that expensive champagne you really wanted to try. Ready to show that pretty, wide smile you always gave Touya when you saw him. 

Right? 

Touya couldn’t think- couldn’t breathe as he sped down the street. His grip on the wheel was so tight that his staples were close to popping. The loud ringing in his ears drowned out the persistent honking of cars that he nearly collided with. 

What should’ve taken an hour took a measly twenty minutes. Without a second thought, Touya was already out of the car. 

Upon entering, he received perturbed glances. He didn’t blame them, his clothes were bloodied, several staples unhinged from the skin. 

“S-sir?” a tiny voice squeaked. He glanced at the receptionist desk, the bright chandeliers illuminating her meek stare that looked borderline terrified. He probably looked like a villain. 

“D-do you have a reservation.” 

“Yes.” He answered gruffly, head craning to see if he could catch sight of you.

“Your name please.” 

“Touya.” He gritted, eyes focusing back on the receptionist who didn’t seem to believe him. She ducked her head to check, eyes scanning frantically. 

“Oh, yes!” She smiled, it was too wide to be real but, frankly, Touya didn’t care. All he needed to know was that you were here. 

“Table 15.” She pointed. “You won’t miss it.”

Touya didn’t bother to reply, legs already scrambling towards what he hoped would be you. Ignoring the stares that followed behind him.

Table 12

Table 13

Table 14

Table 15-

Touya's heart nearly stops, vision tinging with black as his knees nearly crumble beneath him. 

You weren’t there. 

››››››››››››››››››››› ~★~ ›››››››››››››››››››››

When Touya returned to the now, Paranormal Liberation Army hideout, Shigaraki had given him a smile so sweet that it had caused Touya's blood to run cold.

However, Touya did not pry, choosing to ignore the guilty glances the rest of the league sent his way. And he hated himself for it, hated the coward he'd grown to be in such a short period of time.

Later on that night, he returned to your desolate apartment, choosing to take a cigarette from your half- empty pack. 

Yes, Touya despised cigarettes but at that moment they'd never tasted so sweet. His lungs didn't itch, he didn't feel abyssal. He just felt— soothed. As he took several drags, Touya silently pleaded for the nicotine to somehow make every fiber of his being believe that you had decided to finally leave.

That you had finally realized that a villain like him was no good and would only put your life at risk.

However, his façade had cracked when he'd found multiple files on your desolate laptop, drafts of your story in the making. The first page dedicated to your love for giving you the motivation to publish your first ever book.

And at that moment, for the first time in his godforsaken life, Touya wished he could cry. To show you, somehow that he was grateful for everything you had given him. That he was thankful and sorry for letting his mirror that reflected thousands of moments with you -your arms cradling him, him cradling you- shatter into fractured pieces.

As Touya Todoroki sat on a velvet sofa, arms wide and camera ready, a piece of his brain fabricated the image of you next to him --adorned in a sapphire blue dress, showing him that pretty, pretty smile that he’d grown to love, he told you —and told the world the story he never had the chance to.

To simply, atone.

[gothamcityangst]

Day 5- I've got red in my ledger - Betrayal - Mad Hatter

Lets do some Bathatter shall we? HatBat? trying my best to catch up lol.

-

O Frabjous Day! O Frabjous Day! This was Jervis' frabjous day. Three years out of Arkham. It was his anniversary. The last place he'd expected to find himself on this momentous occasion was in Wayne Manor of all places. His old boss offered him a place to stay while he got himself back on his feet.

And then it became his own personal wonderland. With Bruce as his Alice life was a dream but not just any dream. The most wonderful dream of any dreamer and it was all real.

For this special day he'd set up a small dinner in Bruce's study, some private time was exactly what he and his beloved needed. All the arrangements were done save for one tiny, detail.

The bookcase was in complete disarray. No doubt the meddlesome butler had a hand in rearranging the books. Jervis has colour coordinated then whereas the other Englishman had opted for an alphabetical system.

Jervis only ever really used one book from the shelf. He pulled a green book only for it to stay in its place, the top corner of the book pulling all the way down, as another part of the bookshelf shifted to the side, a small lift revealed itself.

Jervis furrowed his brow. He knew every nook and cranny of this place, he could only wonder why his love neglected to tell him this. Jervis' first thought was it was an older tunnel. Something older generations used to escape whatever threat they were facing. He entered the lift and without warning, he was shot down.

As soon as the doors opened he wandered out into a massive underground cave. He flinched as a group of bats swooped a little too close to his head. This place...it couldn't be. There were gadgets and gizmos and all sorts of toys. Toys he recognised from his criminal days. Toys that had left him in the hospital for weeks on end.

He clutched his head in pain as the rush of information hit him. His stomach flipped and turned and twisted in a most unnatural way. His loving partner was always so absent during the nights and tired during the day. Bruce's vigorous training routine, the random marks on his body that'd appear from time to time. All of it suddenly made perfectly, horrible sense.

Jervis could practically feel the presence behind him.

"You...You're the batman?"

When he turned around. The caped crusader stood, his cowl pulled down to reveal Bruce's pained face. From the crop of black, dark hair to the blue eyes that burned into his soul. His face looked like it had been carved by a master sculptor; the high cheekbones, brow arches and perfect jaw. His skin looked smooth and perfect. Jervis could see the sweat dripping down his face.

Jervis supposed God had found Lucifer beautiful at one point. The Red Queen was a beautiful ruler before she opened her lips.

There was an attempt to get closer to him but he was having none of it. Jervis pulled away, a seething scowl drawn across his face. The aura of rage from Jervis permeated the entire room.

"You're the reason I spent weeks in the infirmary! Broken bones and all. Did you have any idea of the pain I was in?"

The early days of crime were the worst. Batman had no mercy for him then. His ribs were broken in two separate places and recovery hadn't been easy or pleasant. At this moment he could only think of how gentle Bruce was with when he held him during cold winter nights.

"Jervis. Please listen-"

"What? What could you possibly say to me that would make this alright?"

Jervis' heart was bleeding. He was wounded and it was no doubt fatal. The revelation was a knife in his weak beating heart. And all of Bruce's attempts to talk only pushed it in deeper. He'd rather be whacked with a thousand mallets over and over again than be forced to endure this.

"I'm sorry Jervis. You were going to hurt people. I had to stop you."

"And dating me was just your sick way of keeping me in check was it? You're vile. To beat me one moment and kiss me the next. You're a vile, vile man."

"No. God no. I can explain."

"Save it, Batman. Or shall I call you Bruce you twisted two-timing tumultuous trollop?"

Without another word, Jervis ran back to the lift. The doors of the lift shutting before Bruce could reach. He pounded his palms on the glass. Jervis could see Bruce's breath condensing on the glass. Pleading eyes meeting scorned ones.

"Good day."