#suddenly i am indecisive

[samfrancis94]

.

[leapdayowo]

If I had a nickel for every time I got into Undertale and Deltarune around the end of the year/start of the new year, I would have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s kind of weird that it’s happened twice

[brahmenbones]

hello, announcer! what are you the "announcer" of?

"Pick your poison.."

[theghoulboysblog]

just had a dream that ryan bergara came to my campus, and that he and i had the same idea to walk to this food place nearby that had amazing deals on that specific day. i stood behind him in line, but the line was long so he left. i went through the line, got a plate of food, and woke up mutterering about shrimp and sausage 😭

[scarlet-star-witch]

The shackles of duty

Summary: In the aftermath of Aegon's fall in the Battle of Rook's Rest, Aemond envisions his future as King with his Queen at his side

Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter and in a secret relationship with Aemond

Part 2 to His Sacrifice

WC: 2.2 K

Warnings: Implied smut, possessive Aemond, kinda dark Aemond, but not really, he's more pathetic than anything

~~

Aemond stared at the plumes of smoke that billowed from where his brother and his dragon had fallen. 

His heart still raced with satisfaction, the adrenaline pumping through his veins keeping him in an almost high-like state he never wanted to come down from. His victorious smirk remained as he turned to the woman beside him who stared at the smoke with a conflicted expression. 

“With any luck, Aegon has perished, or at least will in due time.” 

She looked to Aemond, the furrow in her brow deep, betraying her indecision and unease.

She always knew what Aemond was capable of, she knew of the darkness within him, but to see it now, displayed so blatant before her very eyes, shook something within her, something she didn’t know she could feel towards the man she had loved for so long. 

Aemond grabbed her hands, holding them in his tightly as he turned to face her fully. 

“We can go back to King’s Landing. With Aegon’s state, I will be named Regent. I will sit the throne and you will be my Queen.” 

“What?” She breathed out, the only word she’d been able to speak in the past few minutes. 

“Aegon is not long for this world, surely. It won't be long until I become King. No one can deny us anything now. We can marry, you can stay with me by my side, we can rule together.” Aemond spoke with a franticness that was so unlike him, it unsettled her more than the gleam of desire in his eye in that moment. 

“Aemond…”

“We can finally be together.” He reminded her as his hand reached out to grasp her cheek affectionately, the longing he displayed tearing her insides, as if she were being pulled in two radically different directions. 

She watched him for a long moment, savoring the sight of that beautiful face she’d spent the past few years memorizing, every perfect dip and curve that never failed to leave her breathless, and emotion swelled as she realized she’d have to break his heart. 

“I can’t go with you.” She told him, her voice barely above a whisper, as if it would soften the blow, as if saying it quietly would mean it wouldn’t completely destroy him. 

His lip twitched, his smile fading slowly as he took in her words, praying he had misheard her. His grip on her hands tightened, as if he could keep her with him, as if he could forever stop her from leaving his side. 

“But…”

“Aemond, you know I cannot go with you. No one will accept-”

“Fuck what they think! You are mine and the second I sit on that throne I can make it so. No one could stop us.” 

She shook her head and moved to pull away, but he didn’t let her, his hand sturdy in hers, a look of heartbreak on his face as he felt her hesitation. 

“We are at war, Aemond. Our marriage will not solve anything, it won’t miraculously dissolve what is happening in our family, it will only create more chaos.”

“I don’t care.” Aemond spoke through gritted teeth as he stepped towards her, his hands now cradling her face. “I don’t give a shit about this war, you are all I want.”

She sniffled, bowing her head to avoid looking into his eye. It was too painful to see how she was hurting him. 

“Think about what you are asking of me.”

“I am asking you to be with me.”

“You are asking me to abandon my mother!” She yelled. 

His chest ached, the rush he’d been thriving on suddenly turning to despair as he looked at her, realizing he wouldn’t soon have her in his arms as he had hoped. 

“We can fix this.” He spoke with reverence, but it did little to soothe the storm within her. 

“Maybe we could have… but that was before- before Lucerys.” 

Aemond flinched, recoiling as if she had delivered a physical blow. 

“You know my regret for what happened. You know I would have never willingly jeopardize-”

“I know, I know.” She whispered tearfully, her hands moving up to grip at his wrists, feeling his pulse race beneath her touch. 

She remembered the night after learning of her brother’s death as she met Aemond on their Island, how he immediately fell to his knees in forgiveness, how he let her scream and cry and rage at him, how they held each other as they cried, knowing the state of their family had broken beyond repair, ruining what little chance they thought they had to one day be together as they wanted. 

She wiped her tears and with one last gentle caress to his hands, pulled them away from her, taking a step backwards before he could reach out to her once more. 

“I have to go.”

With every step she took away from him, he took a step closer, his face shifting each time she moved, his frown growing deeper and deeper as it abruptly dawned on him that he was about to lose her, yet again.

“Please, don’t do this.” 

“I’m sorry.” She choked out, the sight of him blurring as tears sprang to her eyes. She turned and didn’t look back as she climbed upon Vermithor, ignoring the pit that grew in her stomach, ignoring the voice in the back of her head that screamed at her to stay with him. 

She didn’t dare spare him a look. She knew she’d cave if she did, that she would fall back into his arms and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. 

She wiped her tears as she flew, ignoring the pull she felt to her other half as the distance between them grew greater. 

~~

A yell of pure rage escaped him as he flipped the table in his room. He grabbed anything he could get his hands on, throwing any and every object he found across the room, destroying everything in his line of sight. 

His bed was in disarray, the tapestries that lined the walls torn to pieces at his feet, candles knocked to the ground, trinkets shattered into nothing but dust as he raged. 

He only stopped when there was nothing left to ruin. 

His chest heaved with exertion as he let himself slump against his bed, burying his face in his hands as he struggled for breath, forcing himself not to let his tears fall. 

His mind raced with her words, each like a dagger to the heart, each one tearing away a piece of him, leaving him unwhole and untethered to the one thing in the world he cared about. 

Nothing made sense without her. It had only been hours and he was already spiraling. 

Simply picturing her beautiful face caused his chest to ache, as if the dagger of her words had been real, causing him to bleed and fade away until there was nothing left of him. 

He could not let this be the end. 

With a half-formed plan in his mind, he stood with haste and reached for his cloak, ensuring the hood covered his head and stepped out of his room, his steps quick and purposeful. 

He would not let her slip away from him again. 

~~

Her mind was racing, keeping her from her much needed sleep. She couldn’t stop picturing Aemond’s face, the pain she had caused him stirring her own. 

She couldn’t ignore the regret that overtook every inch of her. While she loved her mother and longed to see her as Queen, she couldn’t deny that Aemond had stitched himself within the fabric of her, he was now a part of her she couldn’t ignore. 

She didn’t quite know when it happened, all she knew was that it was too late to go back now, too late to pretend she felt nothing for him. She couldn’t move forward without him. 

She had to see him.

She hissed a curse and tore the covers off, getting to her feet and dressing in her riding leathers quickly, acknowledging the stupidity of her plan, but steadily ignoring it. 

It was easy to sneak out of the castle. She’d been doing it for years now, she could do it with her eyes closed. 

It took little time to get Vermithor in the air and on the course for King’s Landing, her heart in her throat as she flew. She didn’t know what awaited her, what danger she would be placing upon her head, all she knew was that once there, Aemond would never let any harm befall her. 

It was the only assurance she needed to drive forward into enemy territory. 

Suddenly, the bellowing roar of a dragon sounded over the din of the wind. 

She startled and narrowed her eyes, the moon providing light for her to see, but as the hulking figure of the dragon coming before her became clear, she soon realized, her eyes widening as she stared back at Vhagar. 

A breathless laugh escaped her, pure relief overtaking her as she realized Aemond was in the same state she found herself in, unable to settle for their circumstance. 

She pulled at the reins, directing Vermithor to descend, heading towards their Island with Aemond following seconds behind. 

The two mighty dragons landed and their riders met each other's gaze, the both of them taking a moment to simply admire each other, their shared smiles of equal relief and awe that they had had the same thought, the same longing to see each other. 

Her hands almost shook with anticipation as she untied herself from the saddle. 

She felt nervous, as if it were their first meeting in secret, as she approached him, but her reservations didn’t last as Aemond stepped towards her quickly, with no hesitation.

A shaking breath escaped her as she was pulled into his arms. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered weakly, her voice strained as her throat tightened, overwhelmed to be back in his loving arms. 

He shook his head and held to her tighter, softly whispering his relief to see her again

Time was lost to them as they embraced, as they held each other as only lovers could. 

“I don’t know what will happen next.” She mumbled, hating to break the moment with their reality, but it wasn’t something they could ignore for much longer. 

“I don’t either.” He admitted quietly. “But what I do know is that, whatever I do, it will not be without you. I don’t care how many times I will have to chase you down and bring you back to me, I won’t lose you.” 

“You won’t have to chase me. I’m not going anywhere.” 

His exhale of relief was loud and she barely had time to apologize again before he was kissing her firmly, leaving them both breathless and lightheaded with desire. 

His touch was desperate as he laid her down in the dewey grass. It was familiar to them, these fleeting and frantic touches all they could spare in the war that ravaged their families. 

He took her with an intensity as if it had been years since he’d felt her touch and not mere days as it had been. She felt more loved than ever before as he lavished his praise onto her, as his lips caressed every inch of her, as he made love to her with the burning passion as only a man in love could. 

Their cries of pleasure echoed on the desolate Island, their secret remaining shrouded in darkness and isolation. 

As he spilled his seed within her, his call of her name sending shivers down the length of her body, she held him tightly, wishing she could hold onto him forever, wishing she didn’t have to leave his side time and time again. 

He wasn’t quick to part from her, laying over her, his hands still eager to touch her, to remember the curves of her body in fear that it would be the last time. 

But they would never let it be the last, not as long as they still breathed life. 

He left her side with a promise to see her the next night. 

There was no mention of the throne, of titles or battles. It didn’t exist in their time together, the both of them determined to blissfully ignore the reality that was slowly crushing them, slowly pulling them further and further apart, no matter how hard they tried to fight it. 

~~

He lingered in her mind as she woke alone but sated, the phantom bliss of his touch, bringing a smile to her lips in the early morning. She could still feel the warmth between her thighs, feel the pleasurable burn of the marks he had left on her body. 

She smiled politely as her maid entered, placing breakfast down for her. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you, Princess?” 

Moon tea.

The words were on the tip of her tongue. She trusted her handmaiden, she’d never given her a sideways glance over the past years when she requested the drink. Her mother was still blissfully unaware, which meant her maid was at least keeping her secret. 

Yet the words didn’t come, a decision made in a fraction of a second. 

“No, thank you. That is all.” 

As her maid left, her hand drifted to her stomach, a smile forming on her lips as she wondered what their child would look like. 

~~

Hope you enjoyed! I have more Aemond content coming! I literally have a thousand ideas for this beautiful man, so stay tuned xx

[lyiswriting]

Plus size reader x stalker!OC

This is an original character! but I do get COD ghost and Ghostface vibes from him.

I finally caught him! The goddamn stalker that has been watching and freaking me out for months. I get that this might not have been my best idea but here we are! He's handcuffed to a chair and just looking at me. Watching my every move as I pace around the room indecisive if I should call the cops. Why do you do this? I ask sternly, I'm nervous but try not to show it but he knows better. Why not? Tilts his head, you're fucking gorgeous and entertaining. I scuffs that's not a good answer, there's a good answer to that?

Well...not exactly... I think you're precious, you hung the stars for me. Life has never been brighter, I love to watch your every move. How pretty you look asleep, cooking, reading, and writing. You fucking name it! His voice is rough and his eyes darken as he starts talking more. In the fucking shower he groans and throws his head back, even with his mask still on I can tell he's smirking. I look at him Your sick! Oh, but doll face you love every single second of it. I've read those books you fawn over, those are just fictional. He scuffs and shakes his head, maybe...but I laid in your bed, read your books when you didn't even know. I love your sheets and can't wait for when I get you in them.

You're a damn perv! As if that will ever fucking happen...I mumble as my hands shake trying to hold my phone steady. Once again, you love it. You love how I'm getting hard at just recalling all of this. That someone finally actually cares and loves you enough to lose his mind over you. To risk losing everything he has just because he can't stay away from you. Shifts in his seat look at how hard you have me, baby. I look at him shocked, how can he say that so casually. How can he be hard from all this!?

I don't get it, why go through all of this for me? I'm not special, not smart, not rich and totally not pretty according to society. Don't fucking say that! He suddenly barks making me jump. You are the epitome of gorgeous. He tilts his head as he starts to pant, I'm stupid for letting him keep talking. You think I would go through all of this for someone who isn't a diamond? For someone who looks like everyone else? He laughs and shakes his head no baby.

I'm being a nice guy to you and letting you fucking think you have the upper hand. So keep that little mouth of yours in check, he growls. I look at him and my body shaking in fear. Who the fuck do you think you are? I try to act tough, this is my house. You are the one that's handcuffed! I point at him as I walk closer I do have the upper hand! And what's wrong with me saying the truth? To the media I am not pretty,

I love your voice, he suddenly switched tones as he looks at me lovingly. I love the way you think, I love your body, no matter how big. I love every single mark and scar on it. You're my solstice. His soft tone suddenly goes rough again, but I won't let you talk about yourself in that way. I suddenly hear him grunt and something breaking. I back up as he stands the cuffs sitting on his wrists, broken.

[songbirdseung]

simply jaded / sim jaeyun

going into the new year single again was not gonna be on your bingo card anymore. the problem was that no other guy could satisfy you nor treat you like your best friend did. so maybe, why not date him instead?

going into the new year single again was not something you had planned for. after a string of disappointing dates and relationships that fizzled out faster than fireworks, you were fed up. no one seemed to measure up, no one could treat you the way you wanted, the way you deserved. except, maybe, your best friend.

the thought had crossed your mind more times than you’d like to admit. jake had always been there for you—kind, funny, supportive. he knew you inside and out, better than anyone else. so why not give it a shot? maybe dating your best friend wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

with a mix of nerves and determination, you grabbed your phone and sent him a text. it was short, direct, and maybe a little impulsive: “why don’t we just date each other?”

you barely had time to process your own boldness when your bedroom door flew open, and there stood jake, slightly out of breath and looking thoroughly baffled.

"are you stupid or just that desperate?" he blurted out, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. he wasn’t angry, just visibly confused—and maybe a little disgusted at the sudden proposition. "oh c'mon," you said, sitting up straighter. "you make it sound like i'm a horrible person to go out with."

"well, you kind of are," he shot back, crossing his arms. "with how indecisive and bossy—hey, don't even think about throwing that pillow," he warned, cutting himself off as you grabbed one from your bed.

you rolled your eyes but put the pillow down. "you're acting like you're repulsed by the idea of dating me."

jake scoffed, though there was no malice in it. "and if i am? will you drop the idea?"

"tell me what's so bad about us dating?" you challenged, crossing your arms now, mirroring his stance.

he sighed, ruffling his hair in that way he always did when he was thinking. "it’s not that it’s bad," he admitted, his tone softening a little. "it’s just... weird. we've been best friends for so long. what if it ruins everything?"

"or," you countered, leaning forward slightly, "what if it makes everything better?"

he paused at that, the room growing quiet as he considered your words. "you’re really serious about this, aren’t you?" he finally said, his voice quieter, more thoughtful.

"i am," you nodded. "look, jake, we already know each other better than anyone else. we trust each other, we have fun together. isn’t that what people want in a relationship?"

"yeah, but... what if we screw it up?" his voice was laced with genuine concern, and it tugged at your heart.

"then we deal with it. but i’d rather take the chance than keep wondering 'what if.' wouldn’t you?"

he let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "you always have to make things complicated, don’t you?"

you smirked. "you love it."

"yeah, yeah," he muttered, but there was a small smile playing on his lips now. "fine. but if this goes south, i’m blaming you."

"deal," you grinned.

he shook his head, still looking a bit amused and bewildered. "guess we're doing this, huh?"

"guess we are," you said, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness.

jake sat down next to you on the bed, bumping his shoulder against yours. "well, if i’m going to be your boyfriend now, does that mean i get to boss you around for once?"

you laughed, shoving him playfully. "don’t push your luck, sim."

he chuckled, leaning back on his hands. "this is going to be interesting."

"yeah," you agreed, smiling. "but i think it’s going to be worth it."

and just like that, the new year suddenly didn’t seem so daunting anymore.

the first date came quicker than expected. jake insisted on planning everything, wanting to make it special. after all, this wasn’t just any date—it was the first date, a big step from best friends to something more.

when he picked you up, he was noticeably different. instead of his usual teasing grin, he had a nervous smile. he even opened the car door for you, which immediately made you suspicious.

"wow, look at you being all gentlemanly," you teased as you slid into the seat.

"well, i thought i'd make an effort," he replied, scratching the back of his neck as he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

the restaurant he chose was cozy and intimate, a little different from the casual places you usually went to together. jake pulled out your chair for you, then sat down across from you, trying to maintain a composed and charming demeanor. it was almost too much.

"okay, who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?" you joked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"very funny," he muttered, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to suppress a smile.

as the evening went on, it was clear that jake was struggling. he kept catching himself before saying something sarcastic or teasing, his usual go-to moves. instead, he attempted to be more romantic, which only made things more awkward. like when he tried to compliment you but stumbled over his words.

"you look... um, really... uh, nice tonight," he said, his face turning a little red.

you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, covering your mouth with your hand. "jake, seriously? 'nice'? that’s the best you’ve got?"

"hey, give me a break," he groaned, leaning back in his chair. "this whole romantic thing is harder than it looks."

"just be yourself," you encouraged, still chuckling. "i liked you better when you were teasing me about my terrible taste in movies."

he grinned, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "so you do admit your movie taste is terrible."

"don’t push it," you warned playfully, narrowing your eyes.

the rest of the date became much more relaxed after that. jake let go of the awkward attempt to be overly romantic and instead fell back into his usual rhythm—teasing, joking, and making you laugh until your sides hurt. it felt right, natural, like slipping into a comfortable old sweater.

as you left the restaurant, walking side by side, he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "okay, maybe i overdid it with the whole gentleman act," he admitted, glancing at you.

"just a bit," you teased, squeezing his hand. "but it was sweet. thanks for trying."

he stopped walking, turning to face you. "i’ll get the hang of this boyfriend thing," he said, his tone more serious now. "just... bear with me?"

"you’re doing fine," you assured him, smiling softly. "we’ll figure it out together."

"yeah," he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "together."

and with that, you continued walking, this was the beginning of something new, and you were both ready for whatever came next—together.

[rosesnbooks]

Libra placements

disclaimer: i am not a professional! i write based on what i know from reading and observing others for fun.

🤍sun in libra-very charming people who usually get along with anyone they meet but they can be quite hard to read. they appear peaceful and calm, often with a smile. when they show up in the room, people naturally gravitate toward them. they dislike confrontations and if you push them hard enough, they’ll throw a fit. they care about their appearance so they look presentable most of the time, even in the comfort of their home. they like socialising with others, especially with those who bring them excitement and a sense of security. they deeply value fairness, but their feelings for others can sometimes cloud their judgment. if they give you several chances but suddenly cut you off, you should know that this didn’t happen overnight and that you’ve crossed too many lines. their loved ones are very important to them. people also underestimate how much they appreciate friendship. if underdeveloped, they can be fake because their hunger for attention and being liked can get out of hand. romance is very important as well, for many, because they love the idea of love and the high they get from it. some of them can be indecisive and even rely on others too much. they have a specific vision in mind of a perfect lover so they tend to seek out similar partners, at least visually. they like to daydream and manifest their perfect life.

🤍moon in libra-they are often idealistic but reasonable at the same time. placing themselves in a setting that is comforting and beautiful matters to them, as well as surrounding themselves with people who give them peace and happiness. They dislike spending too much time with intense people, especially those who seek chaos and have a pessimistic mindset. they tend to hide their feelings, so unless you ask them directly, they may not tell you anything if they don’t feel ready. they like to present themselves as if they have everything under control and that they’re living happily. don’t judge the book by its cover because these individuals have depth and strong emotions just as much as other signs. they process their emotions quietly in the privacy of their home (or any other safe setting). honestly, when they get angry they might seem like a completely different person. the underdeveloped ones are big gaslighters…they can use their charm to get out of many situations, and they also don’t know what they want. I admire their optimism because they tend to believe that no matter what happens, they’ll get through it.

🤍ascendant in libra- they feel familiar and sweet, so people have a relaxed demeanor as soon as they see them. they seem lovely and most of the time they are. they’re helpful to those who are nice and treat people kindly, no matter who they are. they have a nice figure and their style is usually consistent so it’s easy to recognize them. their smiles are super warm and many people find them attractive. their kindness and openness can sometimes make them vulnerable to manipulation. sometimes, even their loved ones take them for granted or don’t treat them right, and libra rising finds it difficult to fight for themselves, but they can work on that. they don’t usually go unnoticed and they have a strong desire to be liked, even if they don’t show it openly. i’ve noticed that they have a strong connection to music and listen to it all the time. they seek romance in their life and while that’s obvious for some, others try to hide it and display this side of them to those they trust. they notice the changes in someone’s energy easily and they're smart.

🤍mercury in libra-they treat everyone equally. in my opinion, it’s not easy to see when they dislike someone because they hide it so well. people generally have good opinions (or at least neutral) about them. they like to laugh and make jokes, and their voices are pleasing to the ear. they make others feel comfortable and safe, so a lot of people open up to them. they are genuinely interested in what anyone wants to say and they have lots of empathy. If they want to, they can be pretty good public speakers. they like to express themselves in various creative areas in their life so they often have different interests too. they highly dislike people who don’t care about morals and justice, but if underdeveloped, they can share these qualities because they do things for their own personal gain (or they are simply unaware that they’re doing something wrong)

🤍venus in libra-they crave love intensely and they seem to have a crush at all times. however, their imagination can be a lot better than the real thing which disappoints them when they let it get too far. when they like someone, they obsess over them and many of these people are ready to put their needs aside to be there for their person. it’s like everything in their life starts to evolve around their crush or partner, and this can lead to self-neglect. they are very romantic and they like to be pampered by their partner. unfortunately, many attract people who aren’t ready to give them what they desire. they can be a bit too traditional, if underdeveloped. loving them feels like being in a rom-com.

🤍mars in libra-very reasonable people who don’t get angry easily, unless they feel like you’ve crossed too many boundaries. developed mars in libra individuals prefer to address conflicts calmly and constructively. they can be hard-working and dedicated to their craft once they start doing something they love. they are also quite creative. they get along with many people and almost everyone has nice things to say about them. they’re helpful and understanding, and they value fairness, of course. they cherish the small things in life and they can manifest their dreams! they love their freedom and independence, but they also love being surrounded with their loved ones. i've noticed that many of them like to travel, in hopes of seeing the world in all its beauty and meeting lots of interesting people. they cherish their alone time as well.

🤍jupiter in libra-they achieve most luck in life when they focus on living harmoniously and surround themselves with loving and balanced people. they thrive in healthy partnerships (whether personal or professional). they’re able to listen to both sides and evaluate their views before making a final decision and this enables them to form meaningful relationships. their qualities are perfect for leaders and they are natural mediators. people ask for their advice often. they notice beauty and potential in everything. they can be ambitious and they know how to work with others, how to make compromises, and their patient character grants them success. they have a strong sense of justice and want equality.

🤍saturn in libra-saturn works well in this sign so there aren’t too many issues. they share most traits as those with jupiter in libra. i haven't met anyone with this placement as far as i know, but i have read that these people tend to either have trust issues or that they have extremely high standards that those around them cannot possibly fulfill. they need to learn how to rely on others and work on creating a balanced life, one in which their needs are met and where they aren’t too afraid of putting themselves out there.

I want to thank everyone who contributed to the making of this post♡

©rosesnbooks

[misseviehyde]

SHADOWS

My ex-boyfriend James is sooooo fucking weak and pathetic. I hate and despise him with every part of my soul. He is everything that is wrong with men these days. Indecisive, overly sensitive, small and pathetic. What a fucking loser.

His twin brother Jason by comparison is a God. He is the man I now desire. Once I despised and hated Jason, but now he is everything I seek in a man. Tall, strong, rich, dominant... he makes me so fucking wet. My new boyfriend is a total Alpha. The longer I stay around him the more feminine I feel. I love what he does to me.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me explain how this all started...

Once I was the nerdiest girl at school. It seems insane to say it now, given how popular I am, but there was a time when I couldn't name six fashion designers or contour my makeup or suck off three boys at once in the cheerleaders locker room. I was a fucking loser.

Terrible skin, flat chested, nerdy glasses and goofy teeth. No. I was once plain little Melanie. I even had ginger hair. No wonder everyone bullied me. Popular rich bitch Madison didn't even exist. I was a fucking nobody.

My life consisted of science fairs, anime and role-playing games. Not the fun role playing games where you dress as a sexy school girl and get railed by a hot guy... no... the loser ones where you pretend to be an elf.

To my shame I was even into LARPIng. Live action role play. Each Friday night, me, James, Jason and our other buddies would go into the local woods to play.

We would run around the woods pretending to be on adventures. Fuckkkk it was so pathetic, I feel a major ick just thinking about it.

Jason wasn't the God he would later become at this point. He and James basically looked the same. I don't know why I had chosen James as my boyfriend. I guess he was slightly more confident and had asked me out first. He and Jason basically looked and acted the same though. Many people couldn't even tell them apart. Even me sometimes.

Then Jason found the shadow and everything changed.

As part of our role playing experience we sometimes brought props along and Jason had found this creepy looking glass bottle in a charity shop. It was opaque and stoppered with a wax cork. Perhaps it held a liquid of some kind? Sometimes it looked like there was something dark swirling inside, but it was kind of hard to tell.

We needed a prop to represent an evil demon that was trapped in a bottle so Jason had brought out the bottle.

As usual the group had split up. It was dark now and I was on my own. I had on my favourite druid costume (ughhh so fucking fugly) and I was creeping through the woods under the moonlight.

Suddenly I saw Jason through a gap in the trees. He was on his own too and carrying the bottle. I headed towards him, he hadn't seen me... in fact he wasn't really paying proper attention to his surroundings, which is maybe why he suddenly tripped over a tree root.

The bottle span from his hands and smashed against the ground with a musical tinkle.

I had a perfect view of everything. Jason was lit by the moonlight, his scrawny body shivering and his eyes wide with fear as a rolling mass of black shadows erupted from the smashed bottle and flowed towards him.

I wanted to scream but my voice had left me and I could only put my hands to my mouth like a parody of some dumb anime girl as the shadows flowed into Jason. Black smoke forced its way down his throat, into his nose. It wrapped and enveloped him, melting and merging into his body.

Then it was gone.

But the scene was not over.

Jason let out a cry, or maybe it was a moan. I watched in horrified fascination (and now I'm happy to admit a little bit or arousal) as I watched him change. Jason... my God... was being born.

Muscles rippled and swelled under his skin, causing his shirt to rip and his fantasy style breeches to bulge. He tore his top off to reveal a rippling six back and toned muscles as his skin flowed like wax and he changed and transformed. He grew taller and bigger, more handsome too as his face became more masculine and his hair cut more stylish.

Grunting and grinning Jason ripped off his pathetic role playing costume and stretched confidently. He was entirely naked now and I gasped in arousal as I saw his magnificent ass and his perfect cock. As I watched it was growing. Ten inches of thick white meat now hung between his huge thighs and I almost salivated as I beheld his perfect manly body.

Jason confidently stretched his body, clearly enjoying how it felt. He grinned perfect white teeth and his eyes, once mild and nerdy shone with ambition and dark desire. He clicked his fingers and there was a wisp of smoke as a stylish black shirt and designer jeans encased his new perfect body. He now looked like a male super model and he strode off through the woods chuckling, leaving me breathing heavily and wondering if I was losing my mind.

***

I ran through the woods. Back then I was ungainly and lacking athletic ability. Whereas now I hit the gym daily and can bend into nearly any position (especially when fucking) I was a fucking loser, so I made quite the noise as I crashed through the trees.

James and the others soon found me and I garbled what I'd seen, but they all thought I was still role playing.

"Babe, it's a cool story, but one detail that doesn't work. My stuck up bullying brother doesn't play with us. He thinks we're losers."

I gawped at James. I thought he was joking at first, but as we spoke it became clear he was serious. The shadow had changed Jason, but it also seemed to have changed everyone's memories of him.

I had no idea why I hadn't been affected. perhaps because I had witnessed his transformation directly or something.

James and the others couldn't understand why I was so upset and worried. The shadow had looked evil and I was worried my boyfriends brother was now under the control of something wicked. I decided I'd have to confront Jason directly and see if I could aid him, so I told the others I felt sick and left to go immediately to James and Jason's house.

James started after me, but I quickly lost him in the woods. I didn't want him to see what had happened to his brother. I was sure I could find a way to save Jason.

Haha, what a fucking idealistic moron I used to be.

***

I arrived at Jason's to find the house had changed. There was now a pickup parked at the front and the house was larger and clearly more expensive. Entering the house I found it was better decorated and I nearly had a heart attack as I entered the kitchen to find Jame's Mom and Dad.

Michael, the Dad was now a handsome looking business man wearing an expensive suit. Linda, James Mom had transformed from a homesy kind Mom into a haughty and beautiful MILF. She looked stunning!

Neither of them paid me much attention, they clearly recognised me as James girlfriend. The sneer and look of disgust Linda gave me left me cold. I can't blame her. Linda is now a major icon to me and we are the BEST of friends. She loves me like a daughter and I've learned so much about manipulating and using men from her. But back then I was a dork dating her loser son James.

But that was soon about to change.

I found Jason in a room I'd never seen before. A personal gym.

He was stripped to the waist, his muscles rippling as he pumped iron. He turned and grinned at me as I entered.

"Well well well. My brothers dork girlfriend? What the hell do you want Melanie?"

"I saw everything Jason. I saw that weird shadow enter you. We have to get it out of you. What have you done to your Mom and Dad? This isn't right."

Jason grinned. "Ahhhh. So you saw it? So you remember the old me? Haha you have no idea Melanie. No idea how good this feels. The shadow within me hungers for power and pleasure. It serves no other purpose but to give me what I want. It can change things, people too. Anything that falls under my shadow can be twisted to serve my whim. I am a fucking God now."

I watched nervously as black shadows seemed to spread around Jason as he spoke. The air rippled with potential and a cold numb feeling spread through my body and my soul. Jason grinned as the light seemed to be sucked out of the room and I was drowning in darkness.

"You could be so much more Melanie. You're such a fucking dork, just like my pathetic brother. I always wanted you to be MY girlfriend and now I have this power you can join me. I won't force you, I want you to join me willingly. A taste of this power and I think you'll want more."

I gasped falling to my knees as the shadows surrounded me. All the warmth and kindness and love inside me was suddenly numbed. It was like the shadow was feeding on my positive emotions... perhaps it was.

The dark shadows enveloped and wrapped my nerdy body. Tempting whispers invaded my mind and I felt Jason's presence beating down on me and willing me to give in. The shadow wanted to change and corrupt me, but it would only do so if I wanted it to. Jason hadn't lied.

I don't know if you've ever been offered something so fucking delicious and perfect that even if it came at the cost of your soul you'd jump at the chance... but when that moment finally arrives, it's pretty hard not to succumb.

I'd seen what the shadow had done to Jason. It had turned him into the perfect example of masculine perfection. It could probably do the same for me, but make me the ultimate girl. All I had to do was let it in and surrender to the darkness.

I'd seen girls in magazines, on TV, on teenage drama programs. I'd always wondered how it would feel to be a Queen Bee... a head cheerleader type. What must it be like to be so pretty you can get whatever you want? How would it feel to be a bitch?

"Yes... change me," I groaned. "But only a little... I just want to be a little prettier."

I gasped as my body suddenly ached and I felt the shadows begin to change me. I ripped my dorky glasses off and felt my brace snap as I spat out the metal to leave perfect white teeth. My red hair turned a sexy black and my pale spotty skin tanned as my body toned.

It felt so fucking good.

"Don't you want more Melanie? Don't you want to become a real fucking bitch? If it feels this good to go a little of the way, why not let the shadows take you all the way?"

Jason had a point. The more I transformed the more I wanted to transform. As I felt myself become more popular and beautiful, the further I found I wanted to go.

"Yessss mmmmore," I gasped feeling the shadows pour down my throat and into my body. I could feel Jason in my mind now, his fingers manipulating my pleasure receptors and his thoughts becoming my own.

"That's right Melanie. You don't want to be a dweeb anymore. You want to go all the way. You want to be a fucking bitch. Say it."

I shuddered as delicious throbs of pleasure pulsed through my body. "I... mmmmmh, ohhh yes, I want to be a bitch."

"That's right Melanie. Let's picture a girl. Let's call her Madison. She's everything you want to be isn't she? Thin, pretty, bratty and spoiled. She's the kind of girl that has a new outfit every day, that all the other girls bow down to. I want you imagine how hot she looks. Nice tits, a toned body, ultra-feminine body language. So different to the dork you are. Are you picturing her?"

I was picturing her. I was thinking of every mean bad girl and bitch I had ever know in real life or in the movies. I was picturing Madison and boy was she fucking hot.

"Now say it. Say you want to be Madison. You want to be the bullying popular Alpha girl."

My pussy was wet, my already partially transformed body felt so good. I needed more... I needed the shadows to corrupt me completely.

"Yessss I want to be Madison."

I screamed and orgasmed as I said it, feeling the shadows flowing into me and destroying Melanie forever. All the kind gentle nice parts of me were consumed and the shadows pumped me full of evil, mean bratty thoughts.

Melanie died in that instant and I... Madison... took control.

Long bitchy nails shot out from my fingers. My face became meaner and even prettier, soft pouty lips curving into a bratty grin. My clothing became designer, my handbag expensive and my personality became that of a spoiled rich bitch.

Reality rippled and changed. Only Jason and I would remember the old me. It was as if Melanie had never existed and only I had been born.

The shadows withdrew, but they left their mark. I was a fucking evil bitch now, devoid of mercy. I only cared about myself... oh and Jason of course.

"How do you feel baby?" he grinned, towering over me in his Adonis body.

"I feel amazing baby," I grinned. "In fact I want to thank you for being the best boyfriend ever."

I giggled and sank eagerly to my knees. My long nails looked so hawt as I unzipped Jason's fly and his huge ten inch dick flopped out.

Moaning I began to pump and suck his cock. This was who and what I worshipped now. Jason had taken me from that loser James.

"Yesssss, good girl," grunted Jason as he put his hands gently on my head and pushed me deeper onto his cock. "You're my slutty bitch now and I have everything I ever wanted."

I just gagged and gargled happily, I fucking loved my man's big cock.

I couldn't wait for him to cum. I needed to taste it...

***

And so that is how I ascended from being a fucking pathetic loser into a Goddess myself. Jason is the Master of the Shadow and so long as he holds that power I am his willing accomplice.

Soon after the transformation James came home. He no longer remembered I had ever been his girl, but that didn't stop me and Jason fucking loudly next door and laughing about the little simp jerking off in his room next door.

I felt so evil and perfect. Being Madison was like a perpetual state of orgasm. The meaner and nastier I was, the better it all felt.

Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if James had smashed that bottle instead of Jason? Perhaps he would be the Alpha stud with the delicious bitchy girlfriend.

But it was just idle speculation. The shadows answered to Jason...

And I answered only to the shadows now.

THE END

[thewickedjazzy]

Artificial Paradise ➵NSFW MDNI ˎˊ˗

➵Pairing: soft dom! fyodor x afab! reader.

➵Summary: fyodor helps you with your studies, but things start to get a bit heated between you two.

➵Tags and word count: 1.8k nsfw, minors dni, fluff, smut, soft dom! fyodor, teasing, explicit language, rough sex, gentle aftercare, light biting, praise, mutual desire.

���A/N: @charkvc 's request, sorry pookie, i accidentally deleted the ask by mistake (｡･-･), but hyg, thank you for the sweet request i'm always down for fedya's big brain.

you sigh in frustration, rubbing your temples as you stare at the dense pages in front of you. how on earth are you supposed to write an entire analysis on hamlet in just one day? the play feels like trying to run a marathon in quicksand, and hamlet’s constant overanalyzing seems to stretch endlessly.

you notice your lover's presence in the room immediately, feeling his slender fingers gently resting on your shoulders. his touch is ever so gentle, soothing even as he begins to knead the tension away.

“fedya, how am i supposed to finish this?” you murmur, glancing back at the daunting stack of papers scattered across the desk.

his lips curve into a soft smirk that you can feel more than see. “you’re overthinking it, my love. hamlet is just like you—burdened by choices, unsure of the right path.” his fingers press into a knot in your shoulder, and you exhale in relief, the stress momentarily forgotten.

“you’re making it sound too easy,” you sigh.

he hums, lowering his lips closer to your ear, his warm breath brushing against your delicate skin. “let’s start with the basics. what does hamlet fear the most?”

“death?” you answer, almost instinctively.

“not quite.” he gently holds your arms from both sides, rubbing them softly. “it’s not death itself he fears… it’s the uncertainty. the unknown.”

you pause, your mind working to decipher his words while he continues to massage you, each touch making your skin tingle.

“he fears what comes after?” you murmur, leaning your head back to look up at him. he looks ethereal in his black half-sleeved turtleneck, his hair tied back in a low, messy ponytail, with a few strands softly framing his face and one resting between his eyebrows. his amethyst eyes, half-lidded, gaze tenderly over you.

he chuckles lightly, his soft tune ringing in your ears. “exactly. now, let’s use that. how does it relate to his indecision? and how does shakespeare weave that into the soliloquy you’re struggling with?”

“well, uh..” you mumble, feeling your mind finally beginning to understand the coded texts, “he’s caught between acting and inaction because… he doesn’t know what’s worse—suffering or the unknown suffering that may follow.”

fyodor smiles softly. “excellent my dear. now, why don’t we dig a little deeper into that?”

his hands move along yours as he leans slightly from behind, hovering over your seated form. slender fingers gently take hold of the pen between your fingers, while his other hand rests on your left shoulder. he guides the pen smoothly, highlighting a few key lines.

“let’s explore how this fear of the unknown impacts his decisions,” he says, “look at how shakespeare contrasts hamlet’s contemplation with his actions. the more hamlet fears the future, the more paralyzed he becomes. we see this tension play out in the soliloquy.”

you nod, trying to follow up with him as he writes 'action' and 'inaction' in a beautiful cursive handwriting. the connection between his fear and his hesitation starts to become clearer, and the analysis begins to take shape.

but as you work, you can't help but find yourself distracted by how close he is. the way his body leans against yours and how his expensive cologne filling your senses. you gaze at him, admiring how effortlessly beautiful he looks. his features seem almost ethereal, and you can’t help but think how perfect a kiss would feel right now, completely forgetting the assignment.

“you’re distracted,” he says suddenly, glancing up and catching your admiring gaze. “focus on the text, my love. we need to get this done before 7 pm tomorrow.”

you try to shake it off, your attention returning to the marked passages, but it’s futile. the way the soft candlelight flickers against his skin, the delicate curve of his lips, the slow rhythm of his breath—it’s too much. your heart flutters every time his fingers brush against yours, guiding the pen, and the assignment feels like a distant memory.

he notices that you’re still not responding to his questions, and his smirk returns, teasing yet knowing. “you’re still distracted,” he murmurs, his voice lower this time, more intimate. his eyes, a deep shade of amethyst, meet yours as he pauses his explanation, leaning in just a fraction closer.

you swallow, pulse quickening, your gaze drifting to his lips. screw the assignment, you think, as the temptation becomes unbearable.

“fedya...” you whisper, the sound barely escaping your lips as your hand moves instinctively to his cheek, pulling him gently toward you.

he doesn’t resist. in fact, his smirk widens, as if he knew all along that this moment was inevitable. his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you in as his lips press against yours—soft, warm, intoxicating.

the pen slips from your fingers, forgotten, as your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer. his other hand finds your waist, gripping you firmly. the world feels like it’s spinning, and all you can think is that you never want it to stop.

your hands clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer as if you’re trying to fuse your bodies together. the taste of his lips against yours makes your mind fuzzy. the soft brush of his tongue occasionally meeting yours in a sloppy slow kiss. you feel his fingers tightening around your waist, his other hand cupping your cheek, completely getting devoured by him.

the candlelight flickers casting erratic shadows on the walls, mirroring the rare intimate moment. your focus narrows to the sensation of him—his warmth, his taste, the way he clutches you as if you’re the only anchor in a storm.

he pulls back just slightly, his lips brushing yours as he pants softly, orbs completely dilated with lust. “milaya,” he murmurs, “this isn’t helping with your assignment.”

you laugh breathlessly, “i think… i think we’ve found a new way to procrastinate,”

he grins, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “well, at least you’re not distracted by the texts anymore.”

he smirks before gently closing the gap between you, cupping both sides of your face as he presses his lips against yours again.

with ease, he lifts you and places you on your desk, the papers crumpling beneath you and pens tumbling to the floor. the fact that he rarely gets aroused like this only heightens your arousal.

you both share a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses, tongues exploring and breaths mingling in a heated exchange.

he slips his hands under your shirt, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head tossing it aside. he leans down, kissing a trail down to your breasts, humming in delight as he inhales your sweet scent—flowers mixed with a hint of fruity lotion—oh how he adores the way you smell.

his soft, wet kisses continue down your skin as he expertly unclipped your bra with on hand, while the other holds you closer to him, the warmth of your body presses against the cotton fabric of his turtleneck shirt.

you press your hips against his moving in tight circles that elicit deep groans from both of you.

his hand that was holding you tight slides down to tug at your pants, and you eagerly help him get it off of you.

“this needs to come off,” you say with a half-chuckle, gesturing toward his turtleneck.

“giving orders now, milaya?” he replies, a teasing smile on his lips as he lifts the shirt over his head, revealing his pale, perfectly soft sculpted body. unable to resist, you lean in, kissing and licking along his chest and neck, your warm breaths brushing against his skin. soft mewls escape his lips as you explore every inch of him.

taking his time, he slowly removes the rest of your clothes, revealing your bare skin to him. soon, both of you are completely naked, your bodies molded together as you share another heated kiss. the warmth of your skin against his makes him harder every passing second that he thinks he might just cum from just being this close to you.

you feel his hands glide teasingly over your drooling cunt before he chuckles and pulls away slightly. "oh my love, look at you— hardly need my preparation"

before you can utter a word, he swiftly lifts you by your ass, sliding you along the desk and sending the remaining papers cascading to the floor. at this point, you hardly notice. he carries you to your shared bed beside the desk and sits down, pulling you to straddle his lap.

"my lovely darling, are you going to take your pleasure and ride me?" he murmurs against your lips and you whine softly humming in response.

his slender fingers guide your hips to grind against him as soft mewls escape your lips burying your face into the prominent crook of his neck.

you lift your hips to guide his tip into your slick entrance. even though he slips in easily, your walls stretch around him, yearning for the fullness you haven't felt in nearly two months.

sweet sweet soft moans escapes his lips, as your legs tremble trying to hold yourself up, only to sink down more on his cock. he spreads your ass cheeks with both hands helping you slide down on him easier.

you pull your head away from his neck, only to see the blissful sight before you—his eyebrows furrowed, eyes tightly shut, and jaw slack. as you quicken your pace, your moans blend with his soft mewls, and you both glisten with sweat while you bounce up and down on him.

"ngh- moya lyubov, let me hear your sweet voice," he murmurs, "ah- I missed you so much, milaya," his soft moans—oh those lovely soft moans, how he mumbles in his native tongue when he's too spent.

he starts thrusting up into you as you bury your face again but now into his chest, moaning against his skin feeling his cock twitch and pulsate before a sharp groan leaves his mouth.

his thrusts quicken, each one leaving you breathless for a moment before the next one knocks the air from your lungs again, your body rendered completely paralyzed by the picked up pace, his tip brushes against your g-spot repeatedly, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body.

then you feel the familiar heat coiling in the pit of your stomach, your ears growing muffled by the sound of your heartbeat. "fed-yyaa i- i'm coming aahh-"

you can’t help but grind against him, striving to keep pace, feeling him twitch inside you before he shoots thick streams filling you completely, throwing his head back with a deep moan. "bozhe! chert voz'mi da da" (translation: jesus! fuck yes yes)

he collapses back against the sheets, trying to catch his breath. you slide off him and join him, stretching your arms before resting your chin on his chest.

“you look so handsome with your hair in a ponytail like that,” you say, biting your lower lip to stifle a teasing giggle.

“ah, it has grown a little indeed... I’m thinking about trimming it down a bit.”

you lightly hit his hand, exclaiming, “don’t you dare!!!”

he giggles, pulling you closer to place gentle kisses on your hairline. “anything for you, milaya.”

[megumifuckmeguro]

JJK MEN (failing to) HOLD THEIR STRENGTH BACK DURING SEX

I write like a bot but Its the ultimate fic guys!!! thanks for all the interactions I’ve seen every single reblog and comment ahhh anyway its uh….kind of difficult to write about a state of mind without it sounding boring and conclusive, so i hope i did my idea justice lol ill be writing for geto suguru @huthaa �� sukuna and nanami in part 2!!

I couldn’t write balls, its too funny

none of them used their raw power!!! They would never!!!!

Gojo Satoru

“Oh your my sweetheart aren’t you?” Gojo teases, his touches light and gently grazing, he taps his long thick cock on your pussy, his urethra leaking pre-cum on your clit as he smears it further with his cockhead, he may be teasing but you know he’s eager, “ugh fuck” he blurts out like he didn’t mean to, “i wanna fuck you like i’ve always want to” his demeanour shifts, he throws his head back glaring at the ceiling, hissing and puffing above you almost like he’s contemplating while absent-mindedly stimulating your hard clit and lips with his wet swollen urethra opening, pressing harder and harder, “i can take it Satoru, please please, fuck me how ever you like!” He looks down at your desperate body, bucking up at his cock and shaking for him to do something, anything, grinning he taunted “nah you cant” you glared at him almost betrayed, he glares back at you smirking, you were about to open you mouth when he suddenly plunges his hard cock deep into you, your cervix springs back and forth as you feel Gojo’s pubes and pelvis meet your entrance, his hips snap again, he enjoys the way your face contorts from innocent need to surprise and pleasure, “you crying yet sweetheart?” He rams into you again, and again, slap slap slap, his cock molding and stretching your insides as he pushes you into a mating press to reach even deeper, imprisoning you until you can make him cum in your pussy. His breaths are laboured, his thrusts are sporadic, indecisive, did he regret going full force on you? He fixates his eyes on you, reading you for any uncomfortablility, any sign of pain he’s causing you “ack yourgonna make me cum doll” his voice crack’s slightly, he looks down at you attempting to hold out his confidence and teasing with a grin but you feel his cock pulsate violently against your cervix, signalling that he’s close to release. “FUCK FUCK FUCK” he groans and strains while emptying his load deep in you, feeling the heat of his cum spread to your thighs and stomach, he pulls out slowly above you, a string of cum snaps between you both, “that was amazing Satoru, i told you i could take it!” You huff proudly, he looks at you almost trying not to laugh “i wasn’t even trying “

Choso Kamo

His hair unravels slowly, a hair tie slides down his back as half his hair dishevels into a long knotted mess, you grab onto it to keep it out of his face as he erratically moves in and out of you “im sorry, ack-fuck im so sorry, am I hurting you?” His attempt at checking up on you fails yet his tone is remorseful and pleading, pleading for you to be able to take him and let him give you everything he can. You can feel the bed shake aggressively underneath you, the lampshade on the bed side table vibrates in vigour, threatening to fall, as it does to Choso’s hard deep thrusts, it smashes on the floor darkening the room, it seems this was a wake up call for Choso as he pauses in slight shock, “was i too rough?” His deep voice softened with concern, he brings his large hand to your small cheek and caresses it softly, a sudden guilt pierces him as he slowly embraces you, his head placed gently on to your neck and chest, his breath tickles your hot skin as he mutters “I’m sorry my love, i don’t know how to control myself when I’m in these moments with you” you cradle his head in your arms and brush his hair slowly, you lift his head up and meet his eyes with love and understanding. That look alone made him cum inside you.

Toji Fushiguro

It was after-killing-a-sorcerer-sex Toji loved the most, he was always rough with you, but fucking you after he just got paid?

“Nah woman you would die like the monkey i just killed* he was usually callous and stoic during sex but in him you found the loving concern of self restraint, his gaze softened “yer gonna regret this doll” you continued staring into his merciless eyes, challenging him “heh” he huffed and smirked as he pushes your legs far apart to make space for himself, he slides his thick cock inside you slowly, you attempt to see it enter but he swiftly pushes your head back and pulls on your hair, he starts moving long and hard, taking his cock fully out and piercing it back into you over and over, quickly a ring of cum oozes between your pussy and his cock which he notices “your spilling yourself on me already sweet girl?” But he doesn’t stop nor slow down, his strong arms hold your legs into place, unable to move or squirm, suddenly he lifts you up from the bed and carries you by the legs, he spreads them once again and pushes his thick hard cock into you from below, you grip his broad shoulders tightly as he fucks you standing. He bites your shoulder lightly, but plunges his cock underneath, you feel so entirely full as you scratch and moan into his ear, you cum on his cock dripping down his length and dampening his pubes and the floor, yet he drags your lips up the head of his cock and slams you down again to meet testes. “You cum so easily but this is nothin doll” he continues slamming himself into you “you wanna see some real fuckin violence darlin? ill show you the corpse of the weak ass sorcerer i just killed once I’m done” he fucks you with his ego.

[jenscx]

[02] tumblr girls — hopeless

it was cliché; being in love with danielle marsh, the straightest girl on earth. you thought your feelings were hopeless, until you discover her tumblr blog.

you toss and turn on your bed, messing up your duvet cover with your indecisiveness. danielle had said she would text you, but should you text her first since she hasn’t? or was it a little weird? would danielle find you desperate or weird? you let out a pathetic groan, throwing your phone away onto the other corner of your bed.

minji and hanni had offered no help and were entirely useless when you told them of your dilemma. after all, keeping your crush a secret from them was increasingly harder each day. might as well just tell them and maybe you would get some help. you were wrong.

“you’re asking us? we’ve spoken to like, 5 people our whole life, including each other,” hanni had said. minji, naturally, nods her head, agreeing.

your phone suddenly dings. eyes widened. hands instantly reach for the phone, fingers hastily scrolling to find danielle’s contact.

no new messages. you flop back onto your bed, feeling pitiful at your own self. if anyone saw you like this, desperate for a girl’s message, what would they say? your friends would definitely make fun of you.

staring at the ceiling, your eyes wander around your bedroom walls, filled with photographs of memories in school with your family and friends. the photograph pinned in the centre of it all, a class photo from last year. you had cut the photo out from the yearbook. you were near the side, smiling with arms tossed over minji and hanni’s shoulders. yet, right in the middle, danielle’s grin is even wider and is it strange if the sight of her immediately brings a smile onto your face?

your phone dings again, then it starts to spasm with notifications. you don’t even bother checking it, knowing it was probably hanni blowing up your phone about how minji was playing with her feelings again. god, maybe you should focus your energy on helping your best friends get together instead of being a sad, pitiful girl yearning for someone out of her league.

hanni, apparently, doesn’t get the hint that you’re ignoring her messages on purpose, and decides to call you. you let the phone ring for a bit before reluctantly picking up.

“y/n, i swear, can you please knock some sense into minji? i don’t care how you do it, like you could even punch her or slap her—”

“shut the hell up,” you groan, “she’s your best friend, you do something.”

“she’s yours too!” hanni retorts.

“okay but i’m not hopelessly in love with her!”

hanni scoffs. annoyance starts to seep in.

“what do you want, pham? what did minji do this time?” you ask. hanni wails loudly, “when you left to go find the love of your life, you know jake from chemistry? yeah, he came up to me and started asking for the homework. obviously, i told him and then minji started being all sulky!”

“sounds like she was jealous.”

“that’s what i’m saying! but maybe it’s the demons in my head and you’re just deluding me. anyway, i just let her sulk until when i get home, she texts me and asks if i’m dating jake? like girl, do i need to bash your head with a rock?” you wince at the increasingly loud tone of hanni. she seemed incredibly agitated.

you bring your phone’s speaker further away from your ear. “i wouldn’t go that far, but what did you say to her?”

“told her that i am not dating jake, we’re just friends because we’re lab partners. and then she was like, asking me if i was dating someone, i would tell her, right? but she’ll do all that, get jealous and shit, and then not look me in the eye the next day?” hanni whines. you feel a semblance of pity for your best friend. maybe minji was just struggling with coming to terms with her feelings.

“god, she’s so annoying. i hate her so much! she thinks she can tell me to trust her when i would literally murder someone for her.”

your best friends were stupid. maybe that’s why you were so drawn to becoming friends with them.

“hanni, you would murder someone for fun,” you frown.

“if you can’t tell, i’m rolling my eyes right now. and yes, i won’t deny that but—” a notification pops up.

danielle [9.47pm]:

hi yn! :))

“hanni, i’m hanging up now.”

“wait, what—”

you instantly press the hang up button, fingers rapidly scrolling to danielle’s chat. meanwhile, hanni blows up your phone, demanding you to answer. hesitating for a moment, you don’t click into her message. you didn’t want to seem too desperate or like you were waiting for her to text you (you were, obviously).

danielle [9.48pm]:

sry 4 the late text :(

just wanted to check

are u free tmrw?

for the project !!

before you could even stop yourself, your fingers start to type a response.

jeon yn [9.48pm]:

i’m free!

what time?

danielle [9.49pm]:

9 in the morning?

i heard our brains work

btr early in the morning :D

meet @ the library near sch!

you internally groan, hoping to sleep in during the weekend but anything for danielle, right?

jeon yn [9.50pm]:

yeah sure!!

see u then

danielle [9.51pm]:

goodnight!!

see u xx

see you. with kisses. your phone nearly drops onto your face. does danielle say that to anyone? or just you?

xx means kisses right? you weren’t going crazy? maybe you were. terribly deluded and indulged in danielle’s kindness, mistaking it for affection. god, you were a mess. why couldn’t you be some suave casanova who could actually talk to your crush without stuttering? seriously, was it just a danielle thing? you could easily converse with others on the daily (not that you did), but still!

the more you think about your situation, the more pitiful you feel. it’s only because of the project that danielle is even talking to you. maybe you should take the chance to show her your charming aspects, and not freeze up every time you see her. yes. that is exactly what you’ll do!

confident and determined, you start to search the common attractive features of someone’s personality. surely a girl like danielle would want an independent yet caring partner. she would need someone to take care of and take care of her. someone that she could rely on but still be emotionally open to talk. your determination starts to disappear when most attributes consist of masculine, strong and manly. right. she would want a man.

you go to sleep with a heavy heart, not bothering to close the tab. maybe it could be a constant reminder that the girl of your dreams is straight.

was this all hopeless?

your dreams, or nightmares, had been haunted by a blurry figure of a man standing next to danielle at the altar. a stretch for sure, since you were both still in high school, but just seeing the truth laid out in front of you was heartbreaking. clearly the contents of last night stirred you greatly. no way danielle was into girls, and if she was, she wouldn’t be into you. she’s a cheerleader, for god's sake, why would she entertain someone like you?

groaning, you quickly get out of bed. of course danielle was a morning person. she was sunshine itself. maybe that’s why she has so much energy and her skin is so luminous… you slap yourself gently, if you wanted to stop this deluded narrative of danielle liking you back, you had to prevent yourself from worshipping danielle like a deity.

taking one glance at your closet, you groan. why was it that on the day you were meeting danielle, all your clothes seemed horrendous? whatever, not like you had to impress her anyway. you throw on a white cropped button up with jeans. at least it was comfortable and breathable. not like you were gonna breathe anyway since you’ll be staring at danielle—

you curse your mind.

staring at the time, you finally decide to head out. even if you arrived early, you wouldn’t mind waiting. it was better to be early than late, you wouldn’t want to make a bad impression. and it was common decency! not like you wanted to portray yourself in a better light or anything…

ugh. you were pathetic. letting yourself be distracted by anything other than danielle, you start to make your way to the library. you hated it there; the librarian, mrs kwon, was not very fond of you after you had caused a domino effect with a bunch of books stacked up. honestly, it really wasn’t your fault. hanni and minji were just so annoying that you became fed up with them. a small cat fight had broken out, if you could really call it that, but hanni had shoved you into the towers of books. needless to say, you spent the rest of the afternoon helping mrs kwon.

you were kind of glad that living so closely to school meant you only had to ride a ten minute bus ride to the library. it was rather convenient. not convenient when your best friends came to your house unprompted and disturbed your peace and tranquillity.

maybe since you were already on the way, you could slip in some alone time and admire the seasonal changes. spring was beautiful. more butterflies and insects flying about. more flowers blooming. could anything be more perfect than spring? (danielle).

you put on your earphones, sighing comfortably as you watched the everchanging view. mere minutes later, you had arrived already. with fifteen minutes to spare, you quickly found a place to sit in the library. since exams haven’t begun yet, there was not a student in sight, only some little kids attending a book reading contest. you smile at the cute children who struggled to pronounce hard words.

a tug of your earbuds pull you out of your reverie. at first, you think that mrs kwon was going to scold you for coming back after the mess you had caused, but the small giggle let out made you realise it was danielle.

“what are you listening to?”

watching danielle with wide eyes, you struggle to formulate a response as she puts your left earbud in her own ear. her lips twitch with delight at the melody that fills her ears.

“clairo? i like her too,” danielle whispers. you swallow your saliva, “you do?”

“yeah,” danielle sends an award-winning smile, “i like sofia the most. do you like sofia?”

if you weren’t so caught up in your own delusions that danielle was the straightest girl alive, you might have eaten up the piece of meat she had left, deeming that girls that liked clario were devastatingly gay.

“uh, yeah.”

“i’ve never met someone else who likes clairo,” danielle confesses, “most of my friends are into rap.”

“rap’s cool too i guess… uh, what do you normally listen to?” you build up the courage to ask. danielle’s face lights up drastically.

“ariana grande, the beach boys, oh! bruno mars too.”

you raise an eyebrow, “a pop lover?”

“yeah! pop just makes me feel happy,” your heart clenches at the sight of her smile. was god drunk when he made danielle? this wasn’t good for your heart.

danielle continues rambling about music, which is the cutest thing ever, not that you would say that out loud. you just wear a smile on your face, genuinely happy to listen to her voice. it was so soothing and relaxing. if danielle told you to jump off a bridge, you would do it instantly.

“oh— sorry, did i say too much?” she asks nervously. you’re immediate to reassure her, “no, of course not. i was just mesmerised.”

danielle stares at you, confused.

“by what?”

“huh?”

“mesmerised by what?” she repeats. your mouth turns dry. mesmerised by the way her curly hair falls against her face. mesmerised by the way her eyes light up with happiness and glee. mesmerised by the way she actually sparkles under the sun.

“you have good music taste,” you say instead. danielle’s smile doesn’t falter.

“really?! i think you have better taste than i do though,” you don’t disagree. liking danielle is the pinnacle of good taste.

she turns to you, beaming, “could you recommend some songs to me?”

caught off guard, you hesitate to reject her. “uh, sure. i can make a playlist.”

“thanks! just send me the link and i’ll listen to it immediately!”

you nod, tempted to run out of the library to hide from the intensity of her stare. danielle, unknowing of your inner dilemma, only pulls out her laptop and stacks of notes.

“so! we have a project to do about human attraction!”

may god bless your soul.

jeon y/n [5.17pm]:

did u get home safe?

danielle [5.18pm]:

yupp!

thanks for buying me coffee too!

i’ll repay u next time :)

jeon y/n [5.18pm]:

next time?

danielle [5.18pm]:

next time we meet up!

we still have more to do

jeon y/n [5.19pm]:

ah… right

by the way

i added u on the playlist

danielle [5.20pm]:

oh my gosh

WAIT i have to listen now

you wait patiently for danielle’s reaction. the playlist was handcrafted with your own music taste and danielle’s revealed preference. coincidentally, there were a lot of love songs, not that you intended there to be. it seemed rather intimate to share your love of music to someone else, but danielle was the kind who would appreciate it.

it had almost been more than an hour until danielle finally texted back.

danielle [6.42pm]:

i love it omg

superior music taste.

jeon y/n [6.43pm]:

haha really?

i just put in songs i thought u would like

danielle [6.43pm]:

spot on.

amazing.

please add more :D

jeon y/n [6.43pm]:

of course!

rest well

danielle [6.44pm]:

u too!!! <3

you too. with a heart. like a lovesick fool, you fall asleep with a smile on your face, unwilling to be rid of.

masterlist | next

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: " I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door."

Warning: angst, fight, toxic parents, fluff, smut, smut and smut! dirty talk, orgasm, squirting (Yessss) 👅 oral sex (male and female) fingering 🤟, nipple sucking, Jungkook calls reader a slut (just once, sorry) Jungkook knows what he's doing 🤌

A/N: Hello! I came back later than expected 😬 sorry! Here is the chapter! I hope you like it! From here on, I am writing the story. Everything you have read so far was written last year. I ask for a little more patience because I need to write, edit, and English is not my native language! Thank you for all the support! (PLEASE VOTE!)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 7

"I didn't know about your college, let alone that you are studying to be a teacher, Y/N," Mr. Jeon says, putting the chocolate dessert in his mouth. I nod my head, excited to talk about a topic I love so much.

"Yes, I love children. I thought it would be a way to work with something I enjoy, and things are going really well." I reply with a smile. Knowing that my course is practically finished and that there is less than a month until I graduate gives me a pleasant thrill in my stomach. All the hard work and dedication are finally paying off.

"I'm so proud of you. I can't wait for you to start working in the field you're studying," my mom comments beside me, her eyes squinting when she smiles. I know it's true because she was one of the people who encouraged me the most to pursue this career. "The schools in Busan are great, big and prestigious. Y/N will adapt very well."

Mrs. Jeon shakes her head with a radiant face, happy for me. I, on the other hand, lose all my excitement. My mom knows, because I've mentioned a few times, that I don't want to stay in Busan after I graduate. I like being here since I've lived in this city practically my whole life, but I feel inside me that I need new challenges. I don't want to spend the rest of my days under my mother's wings. I'm curious about myself and how far my limits go, too. I know I'm capable of doing this.

It's not her fault that I'm like this, so attached and dependent. Since my father passed away and we were left alone in such a hostile world, she became my escape valve. Her approval suddenly became the most important thing in my life. I started looking at her as if she could leave me at any moment, just like my father, and that transformed me into what I am today: vulnerable, indecisive and weak. I've been trying to strengthen my mind these days. I started questioning the decisions I made in previous years and noticed, not without some surprise, that I never did what I really wanted. Jungkook, by a miracle, was my only wish fulfilled by my own desire. It's as if I wanted him so much, that even my bindings couldn't prevent me from having him.

"Let's see, mom. There are several other schools I want to try to get into." I respond, and almost at the same moment, her body tenses. She turns to me and opens her mouth to reply, but knocks on the door sound throughout the house before she can continue. I almost sigh with relief, knowing that at least for now, I'm free from any scolding.

"Excuse me, I'll see who it is." Mr. Jeon gets up from the chair and heads to the living room. After a few seconds, he returns with a smile on his face, with Jungkook behind him. Of course it's him; who else could it be? His hair looks different, in a new cut that makes his face look more youthful; his cheeks are fuller, and his eyes much bigger.

I take a deep breath and try to keep my expression as neutral as possible. He greets my mother with a nod, perhaps knowing that it's better to keep his distance from her, and hugs Misuk, wrapping his arms around her back. It's nice to see their interaction together. They really love and respect each other. Then he turns to me and squeezes my hand with a smile.

"Hello, Y/N. How are you?" He asks with a light smile. I am impressed; his performance couldn't be better. It's almost as if we hadn't been talking almost all day through messages. If I didn't know him, I could swear I hadn't been to his house two days ago. That we didn't kiss so much that, almost by a thread, I lose my iron control and decide to throw myself at him completely.

"Everything's great, and you?"

"All good, too." He sits in the chair in front of me, watching the food that had just been our dinner.

"Jungkook, how about you eat something? You’ve been looking so thin lately." Mrs. Jeon furrows her brows, analyzing the dark-haired guy from head to toe. I wonder if she really thinks he's thin. All I see are muscles and a large, healthy body. I remain silent, poking the dessert with the tip of my fork.

"I'm fine, mom. I'm not hungry. I just came to see you. I missed you." He responds affectionately. I can't help but smile, happy to see how he acts with her. It's cute, if that's the right word to describe a heavily tattooed man like Jungkook.

"You should sleep here, Jungkook." His father comments to his son, looking at the silver watch that wraps around his wrist. "It's already quite late. I don't want you to ride that huge motorcycle in the dark."

"I'm fine... The motorcycle is completely safe." He grumbles, pouting as his parents look at him worriedly. He seems like a sulking teenager, not a tattoo artist full of piercings who lives alone in a bachelor apartment. I let out a small laugh trying to disguise it, but he notices. He bites his lips hard and stares at me for a few seconds. I divert my eyes to my hands, fiddling with the dark pink nail polish that decorates my nails. "Alright. I'll sleep here tonight."

"Perfect! You can stay in the room you used on the first day you came to Busan." His mother suggests, taking a sip of her orange juice.

"Yeah, that works. I loved that room." Jungkook responds with an ironic tone that's hard not to notice. Is he trying to provoke me? He smiles slightly, and for a few seconds his attention focuses on me. "With a great view from the window… you know? Of the garden and everything."

"Alright then, it’s settled." Mrs. Jeon seems excited, holding his shoulders with an almost indescribable happiness. "And how have you been, son? You’ve been visiting me less and less. I'm worried about you, whether you're sleeping well, drinking water, and eating right."

"I've been very busy lately." He takes the juice from the table and pours himself a bit. "It's hard to find tattoo artists I can trust. I still haven't found someone who really has the style I'm looking for. The designs I like aren't very common here in Busan, from what I've noticed."

"Tattoo artists… My God!" Eunji suddenly whispers, disgusted. I open my mouth to try to interrupt her and stop her from saying one of her craziness, but she’s quicker than me. "Every time I see someone with a tattoo, I wonder how they had the courage to dirty their own skin like that. It's horrible to think that these things, whether the person wants it or not, have no return."

"Mom!" I hiss, completely embarrassed. I cover my face with my hands, not knowing where to look. The Jeon family seems surprised, but this acidic comment doesn't shock me. She always does this because she can't keep the peace for too long. It's as if she enjoys causing disagreements, no matter who it is with.

"It's the truth, Y/N!" She argues, as if she were shocked that I disagree. "These things are from the devil! How can someone mark their body like that? It was God who created us in his most perfect form. I just don’t understand!"

"Eunji... I understand what you mean. But everyone chooses their own way to live. I don't think God disapproves of someone just because they have drawings on their skin." Misuk, our neighbor, shares her opinion. That's what I think too. I nod to everyone and make it clear that, even though I'm Eunji's daughter, I don't agree with her. Not in a million years.

"God disapproves, Misuk! I'm surprised you don't think like I do." My mother continues. I sigh, trembling, completely nervous. "The youth today only think about worldly things, drinking and adorning themselves as if they were delinquents! I can't believe this will be the future of our society!"

"Are you saying I didn't raise my child well?" Mrs. Jeon questions. Her face is neutral, but her voice rises a few notes. She finally seems irritated, and rightly so. I would be too, if someone came into my house and said those barbarities.

"Mom, I think it's time for us to go." I get up from the table without waiting for a response. I'm so embarrassed I can't look at anyone, much less Jungkook, who's been quiet the whole time. It's as if he isn't affected by my mother's comments, but I'm aware that deep down, he feels uncomfortable.

"I'm not saying you raised your son badly, but look at him, Misuk! He dresses like he’s part of those bad things. He must be going from party to party doing God knows what. He put those horrible things on his face!" She grunts disgustedly, convinced that she's saying the right things. I try to breathe deeply and groan, desperate to leave. "Y/N only goes where I allow her, and has never even set foot in those dubious places. I let her sleep here last week, but I'm seriously thinking of denying it if there’s a next time."

I widen my eyes as the words leave her mouth. I look at Misuk and see her furrowing her brows in confusion, as if she doesn't know what my mother is talking about. She opens her mouth to respond, disoriented, but Jungkook is quicker and steps in front of her, suddenly.

"I think it's getting late." He says with a false smile on his face. He looks at me for a few seconds and then continues, "This conversation could go on for a while. Mom, I've worked a lot this week. Is it okay if we rest earlier tonight?"

"No, dear, but..." My neighbor shares a confused look, staring at me as if asking when I slept at her house. I make a discreet sign that we’ll talk later, and she nods her head, sighing. "I think that's best. Eunji, sorry to interrupt this conversation, but as you can see, my husband and son are very tired. It's better for you to go, please."

I sigh with relief, feeling my heart race in my chest. My mother opens her mouth to retort, but then seems to think better of it and gets up from her chair. I don't even wait for a proper goodbye; I open the door to my neighbors' living room, wave to them, and rush home, without waiting for anyone. My legs are trembling, I'm so nervous. My mother almost discovers the lie I told her, some days ago. I have to thank Mrs. Jeon a lot after this and explain in detail why I lied. I have a problem on my hands because I slept in Jungkook's place and I don’t want to tell her that.

Eunji follows me, almost like an angry bull, seeing everything red. She stops in the living room, slams the door of our house, and then stares at me, her dark eyes full of tension. I swallow hard, not knowing what to say.

"Do you have a problem, Y/N?" She asks, frowning. The few wrinkles she has become more prominent when she does that.

"What do you mean?" I ask in a low voice, scared and fearful.

"Why didn’t you agree with me? I am your mother! That man, Misuk's son, he's a complete aberration! You acted like you agreed with them!"

"I didn't agree with anyone, Mom." I grunt, disgusted. I don't like hearing her call Jungkook that way. I knew she didn't like him, not at all, but proving that in real life hurts me much more.

"You did agree! I don't want to see you hanging out with him! I don't know what I was thinking when I let you go with him that day! I must have been crazy!" She screams, and my already aching head throbs even more. She throws her shoe to one side of the living room, out of control, and then looks at me again, with an ironic and insincere smile. "You won't go to Misuk's house anymore. Not me either. That woman... I thought she was sensible, that she was like us, but letting her son dress that way is a terror to me!"

"And what does that have to do with us, Mom?" I ask, shaking my head. Eunji opens her mouth to respond, but I'm quicker. "He's her son, and it's not up to us to judge the lifestyle he decided to have! It's not up to us to judge other people as if we're better than them!"

"Have you gone crazy?" She retorts, increasingly irritated. "I'm not judging him, I'm just pointing out the obvious! Do you think a man like that is going to heaven? With me? Believe it or not, my daughter, hell is full of people like him: who dress like psychopaths and walk around as if they know everything. All I feel is pity."

"You’re not God to know who goes to heaven or not." I whisper, turning my back. My eyes widen when the words escape my mouth uncontrollably. It's as if heavy feelings took over me and expelled the sentence without my consent. I hear a deep gasp of shock from my mother. When I look at her, her face is so filled with hatred that I can hardly recognize her.

"I'm not God, but I'm his daughter! I won't allow you to talk to me like that!" She snarls and approaches me so quickly that my body freezes. I've never seen her like this before, so upset over so little. "Go to your room. This conversation makes no sense, and I'm already tired of it."

And I go, without saying a single word. Things were too good to be true. The reality is that my mother can't control her mouth. Always saying whatever comes to her mind without reasoning how much it can hurt others. Her favorite motto is 'tell the truth, no matter who it hurts.' I hate that, aware that the more my mother does this, offending and discriminating against everyone, the more people will distance themselves from me. Nobody wants to hear, especially in their own home, the craziness she just said.

I take off my shoes, throwing them to the floor, and look at my locked window, still shocked and nervous about the events. Since that day I saw Jungkook taking off his clothes, I haven't left the blinds open, afraid that another embarrassing thing might happen. Curious, I unlock it and peek out, seeing that the light in the room next door is on. I sigh and take a deep breath, and in an act of courage, I throw the window wide open.

"Jungkook!" I half-whisper and half-shout, trying not to draw my mother's attention from downstairs. He doesn't appear, so I call him again. "Jungkook!"

"What are you doing?" He suddenly appears in front of me, coming out of a door inside the room. The bathroom, I suppose, by the white towel around his neck, as if he just brushed his teeth.

"Speak lower." I ask fearfully, lowering my voice. "I don't want anyone to hear us."

"Your mom, in this case." He smiles ironically. I nod, having no desire to laugh. I feel terrible about how the night ended.

"If she finds out that my room is so close to yours, she'll never let me sleep here again." I say jokingly, in a desperate attempt to purge the bad feeling invading my chest. "I called you to apologize. My mom shouldn't have spoken that way about you to your family, saying all those things."

"You could have sent a message." Jungkook replies, shrugging, as if none of this were important.

"I wanted to talk to you in person. I really feel bad." I express myself as best as I can, with all the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in my mind.

"I’ve never met someone as crazy as your mom, and I know a lot of bizarre people out there." He leans against the iron railing of the balcony, mocking. I try to cover my mouth and hide a smile, but it's hard. Jungkook is a goofball. "I had already noticed how she acts, you know? As if she could dictate what is right and what is wrong, so superior."

"I know, she is very difficult." I sigh; I run my hands over my arms, chilled by the increasingly strong night breeze. "She became like this after my dad died."

"Has it been a long time since he passed away?"

"Ten years. It seems so recent, but all this time has gone by. It was very difficult because she worked a lot. She wasn't like this. I remember she even drank a bit on weekends, like a normal person."

"So she kind of went crazy?" He asks curiously, wrinkling his nose. I laugh and shake my head.

"Not quite like that. She's not crazy... She just hasn't understood yet that she's traumatized and can't hurt others because of it." I explain, leaning on the window. We're so close that I can smell his perfume. A nice scent of flowers and fields that I really like. "Did you feel bad about what she said?"

"To tell the truth, no." He shrugs, as if he doesn't care. "I'm used to judgments. If she knew that my ex-boyfriend is a man, she'd freak out."

"I'm really sorry." I say in a whisper, feeling sad about his words. I believe that yes, he felt affected by what happened, and just doesn't want to tell the truth to spare me the embarrassment and guilt. I have no idea how hard it must be to be comfortable in your own skin when other people do everything to make you feel like an aberration. Like the wrong one, like the one who isn't normal.

"You don't have to apologize so much." He smiles affectionately, with a rebellious strand of his hair falling in front of his eyes. "And you, Y/N? Have you never done anything crazy in your life? Your mom seems so controlling, that I was thinking while she was saying all that, how difficult it must be for you to be yourself."

"I never felt like doing anything rebellious until I met... well, until I met you." I smile, embarrassed. My cheeks turn red when he laughs mischievously in response.

"Almost fucking me in my apartment isn’t exactly a great act of rebellion." He shrugs and rolls his eyes, laughing. I grunt, increasingly embarrassed.

"That was definitely the craziest thing I've ever done in my life." I assure him. Being with him may seem like a little thing in his eyes, but for me, it isn't.

"Have you never thought about maybe, I don’t know, getting a tattoo? I think that would definitely kill your mom."

"I never thought about it." I laugh incredulously. I never even considered the possibility of doing something like that. "How did you decide to get your first tattoo? Did it have any meaning or was it more impulsive?"

"I got it when I was twenty. And it wasn't impulsive. I always thought about getting a tattoo, and when I left my parents' house, I gathered the courage and designed it." He laughs, and for the second time this night, I find him cute. "Actually, I got a new one yesterday. Do you want to see it?"

"Seriously?" I ask, a bit confused. We talked all day and he didn't mention it at all.

"Yeah, I had time last night." He explains, as if reading my mind. "Do you want me to show you?"

I nod my head in agreement, and he takes a leap to leave his balcony. I get startled, frightened, when he climbs through my window and enters my room. I don't know what to do; my breathing accelerates as he gets closer.

"Jungkook, you shouldn't be here!" I whisper, agitated, afraid that at any moment my mother will enter my room, and then go completely crazy.

"Calm down. It's all good." He rolls his eyes, teasing me.

"I'm being serious. You could have shown me your tattoo in your room." I argue nervously. "If my mom sees you here, I’ll never leave the house again."

"You're too stressed." He comments calmly, placing his hand on my shoulder unprotected by the thin straps of my shirt. I feel an immediate shiver down my spine, taking a step back quickly. No matter how long I spend with him, Jungkook still has that crazy effect on me that I can't control. "Sorry, I shouldn't have touched you."

"You don't need to apologize." I whisper, going back to my previous spot. He must have thought I was uncomfortable with his closeness, and that's far from being true. I miss his touches, and if I could, I would ask for more. "Can you show me what you did?"

"Yeah. Wait a second." He murmurs. His fingers go to his waist, and he pulls the fabric of his t-shirt up, raising it until the piece is in the palm of his hand. I swallow hard, looking at his body so close to mine. No matter how many times I've seen him like this, I'm still shocked at how handsome he is. All muscular, with pale skin adorned with tattoos. My eyes roam over his strong arms and go to his abdomen in a fine path of hair that follows inside his sweatpants.

"I got this clock yesterday. It represents the passage of time. How I have to give importance to the moments in life, whether they are good or not, because everything can end suddenly."

He points to his bicep, now covered by a plastic film, which protects the new ink. I raise my hand and touch the warm, soft skin, testing and exploring. He stays quiet, waiting for my inspection with patience and attention. I've never seen anything like it in my life. I smile, embarrassed, when I notice that wherever my fingers go, the hairs on his body stand up and prickle. I say nothing, absorbed and hypnotized.

"It's beautiful." I confess just for his ears. He turns to me and looks into my eyes.

"I really wanted to show you this. I missed you. Did you miss me?" He asks suddenly, in a serious way. And he certainly has no idea how much. During these two days, with all our messages, I've never felt so alive. I missed him in an inexplicable way that he can't even imagine.

"A lot." I reply, shaking my head, red. "Jungkook, can I tell you the truth?"

He just nods and makes a noise with his throat, agreeing. I swallow hard once more and take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself.

"I want you." I say in a whisper, like a secret. He smiles at the corner of his lips, never taking his eyes off mine. "I want you so much that I don't even recognize myself. It's like I can finally be me. I've never felt this way."

"Do you remember that night?" Jungkook raises his hand and caresses the top of my cheek with his thumb, in a tender gesture.

"You know I do. Of everything." I say. His pupils dilate, and his face becomes more serious. He takes a step forward until his chest touches mine, and we are completely glued to each other.

"I've wanted you immensely since that day." He confesses, and I can feel the sincerity in his raw words. "I want you so much that I'm about to go crazy... I don't want to deny myself when I know you want me too."

"I don't want you to deny yourself." I reply. And it's the truth. I close my eyes and feel his lips pressed intensely against mine. The cold piercing makes me shiver all over when I touch him.

I let out a sigh amidst the desire and grab his hair between my fingers, pulling hard, not measuring the pain he might feel because I know he likes it. His soft, low moan proves that to me. I smile through the kiss and slide my tongue into his mouth, playing with his, feeling his massage mine. His hands go to the back of my thighs, pulling me with such force that I need the support of his shoulders to remain standing. I wrap my legs around his waist, accidentally feeling his hard cock pressed against my intimacy. It's overwhelming, in such a way that a groan escapes from the back of my throat.

His lips detach from mine, and his dark eyes lock onto my irises. I feel ecstatic, almost in a parallel world, seeing only his red, wet, and swollen mouth from our kisses. And I can't stop. I feel so good, almost as if I had denied myself a vice that I am only now getting to taste again. I wrap my arms around his neck and bring my mouth closer to his ear, smiling when I notice his skin prickle one more time because of me.

"Take me to bed, please." I ask softly, not thinking about the consequences. I nibble on his earlobe and plant wet kisses along his neck, sucking and tasting the flavor of his skin; the little spots I like so much turning even redder and more marked. He lets out a deeper moan and lays me on the bed, settling between my legs.

"You just have to ask me to stop." He says in a hoarse voice, looking me up and down. He sweeps his newly cut hair back, illuminated by the moonlight.

"You know how far I can go." I assure him, my cheeks flushed. He smiles, and almost immediately kisses me again. And I love kissing him. I've never had much experience, having little to compare, but I don't need that to know it's really good. More than good, it's wonderful.

I start to feel what I've only felt with him, lust, eating away from the inside out. I drag my hands over his warm arms, where I now know his new tattoo is, and pull his body closer to mine, feeling his abdomen, his heat, and his desire, all at once. The sweatpants aren't very effective at hiding his excitement, and I take advantage of that for my own benefit, rubbing against him, finding relief and pleasure that, without wanting to admit, I've missed so much.

I moan low, wet and excited, yearning for more. Jungkook suddenly pulls back a bit and releases me from the mattress. He grips the end of my shirt and slowly pulls it up my body. His eyes darken as my breasts are revealed. My first impulse is to cover my nipples, illuminated by the dim light, but his lips graze my jaw and his warm breath hits my collarbone, making me so eager that I can't worry about anything else. My entire skin tingles when he uses his tongue and licks my neck.

Jungkook lets out a little smirk, pauses, and looks at me, watching my reactions closely as his index and thumb go to my areola; I moan again, feeling my nipple swell when he squeezes it tightly, causing a pleasurable ache that sends shocks and waves of pleasure to my intimacy. I'm so wet that I feel my panties soaked, the cotton fabric sticky with my lubrication. His teeth dig into my breast, and his tongue wraps around my nipple, circling and swirling. To avoid any noise, I concentrate on keeping my lips pressed together, almost to the point of not being able to breathe. Jungkook grumbles and releases me, moaning as if he enjoys it as much as I do, and he returns to kissing me.

"You’re so tasty..." He groans, as if my pleasure were his. "I could eat you all day long."

"J-Jungkook... let me touch you." I implore in a whisper, breathless.

"Touch me." He commands, straightforward.

With the idea of making him feel everything I'm going through, I slide my hand down his gray sweatpants. I find, still over his underwear, his hard and thick member. Jungkook hisses and closes his eyes, but doesn't stop sucking me, digging his teeth into my flesh and causing a hickey that I know will take days to disappear. I become more confident when I feel how excited he is, all heavy in my palm. I lower the fabric of his pants to where my hands can reach, and when I can't anymore, I use my feet, wrapping my legs around his waist.

His navy blue underwear slips down his thighs until his cock finally springs free, hitting the end of his abdomen. The tip is all slick, red, and the veins make it appear even more aggressive, all manly and virile. It's crazy how, even not knowing much what to do, I don't feel intimidated seeing him this way. I just want to touch him. To have him.

"I want to touch you..." I whisper, wrapping my fingers around his member; my heart racing in my chest. My face burns with embarrassment, but I don't stop. "Teach me?"

"What do you want to do?" He questions, closing his eyes. His head tilts back when I accidentally touch his balls, and I squeeze him a little harder. "Shit, I might come just from that."

"I don't want to do things that way." I stop my caresses. He stares at me, frowning. I bite my lip a little shyly, but I'm determined to explain my desire. "I want- I want to kiss you down there, I just don’t... I don’t know how to do it. I wanted to do the same thing you did to me that time."

"It's all good." He smiles slightly, calming me down; he grips my waist tightly and continues, "Are you sure? I don't want to pressure you into anything."

"You're not pressuring me." I say firmly. And he's not. In the end, all the choices I made so far regarding him were based solely on my desires, never Jungkook's. I like that. It's one of the first times in my life that I'm the one choosing what to do or not. He nods, seeing that I'm confident, and opens the button of my skirt, parting my legs to fit his body better against mine. My panties remain, a light pink cotton that I know is nothing sexy, but apparently doesn't bother him. The fabric is stained with my wetness, from how turned on I am. I watch eagerly as his hand approaches, and his thumb touches my clit through the fabric, stroking up and down, in slow, deliberate circles, taking his time. I roll my eyes in ecstasy, and if I hadn't been so eager to make him come, I would let him continue.

My hole pulses when I pull his finger away, yearning for the peak, but I focus on him and his pleasure. I get up from the bed and pat the mattress for him to lie down. He obediently complies, unashamed of his nudity. I stare at him, amazed at how handsome he is, muscular and at the same time, with an angelic aura.

I lean in closer to his face and watch as he closes his eyes, waiting for a kiss, his long, thick eyelashes brushing against his cheeks as he realizes my mouth is heading for his neck. I tenderly kiss a little mole on his collarbone and another near his jaw. He sighs but says nothing, remaining quiet. I lower my mouth, licking his skin and breathing in his scent, which is fragrant and pleasant.

"Hold my cock." He whispers in my ear, pleading. "Have you ever done that?"

"No." I shake my head, embarrassed. He just smiles and takes my hand. He spits in my palm and grips my wrist, spreading the saliva over his shaft. I watch mesmerized as a vein seems to pulse at the back of the tip. I stroke it once, testing to see how he reacts to the caress. He seems to enjoy it, gripping the sheet of my bed and closing his eyes. "Is it good?"

"Y-yeah." His voice falters as he answers. I smile with pride, deciding to increase the speed just a little, using my thumb at the opening and spreading the pre-cum to make things flow more smoothly. My mouth waters when a drop of his desire starts to ooze from the tip, and I mentally wonder if I'm strange for wanting to taste it.

"How do I do it?" I ask, not stopping. I kiss his jaw and wait for his response. He clears his throat and looks at me with dilated pupils.

"The only thing you have to avoid is your teeth. There's no secret; just never bite." He explains calmly, as if teaching me anatomy. I nod and say nothing more, focused on protecting my teeth and not hurting him in any way.

I slide down my body to the end of the bed and position myself over him, closer to his cock. It looks bigger now, up close. More powerful and voluminous. I stroke it, twisting my wrist and testing it with my tongue first, tasting the salty flavor of his pleasure. It's not bad, actually, so I try again, licking the tip and feeling his flavor get stronger in my mouth. Jungkook moans louder, tilting his head back onto my pillow. He doesn't close his eyes, however, observing closely my inspection of his body. I start to feel more confident and in a spur of the moment, I suck his cockhead, swirling my tongue and caressing the pink skin, as if it were a lollipop. I groan, lowering my head a bit more, returning to the surface to take a deeper breath.

"Shit..." Jungkook grits his teeth, moaning. "There's no way this is your first time."

"It’s the truth." I say, smiling. I'm glad he's enjoying it, even with my inexperience. I caress his thigh and kiss it before diving my mouth back onto him once again. He disappears inside, filling the back of my throat. He doesn't fit all the way inside me, and I don't push too hard, using my hand on the rest and following my sucking.

I use my tongue, circling and stroking that thick vein that runs along his shaft. Suddenly, Jungkook pulls his hand away from the blanket and reaches for my nape, holding my hair. I watch his reactions closely, like when he moans softly, or when he swallows hard before closing his eyes and cursing softly. I notice his chest stops moving, and Jungkook holds his breath as I go deeper. I realize he wants to go harder, to grip me more firmly, but he restrains himself for some reason. I pull his fingers to my scalp, encouraging him.

"You can hold me tighter." I pull his cock from my mouth, wiping some saliva that starts to drip down my chin.

"If I hold you, I won't be able to stop."

"And who said I want you to stop?"

"Y/N..." He tries to say something, but I interrupt him.

"Do whatever you want with me." I say suddenly, surprising both him and myself. He smiles wickedly, as if my consent had triggered something inside him. I return to his cock and suck it, this time hungrier, going up and down its long length.

His hand returns to my nape, his fingers entangled in my hair, and without hesitation, he pushes my head down forcefully, roughly and dominantly. I choke on his shaft but don't stop, excited that the pain I feel in my scalp is directly affecting my pussy. I'm literally dripping, sucking him off without stopping, without wanting to separate. His flavor fills my palate and I love it.

"You’re such a slut..." I hear him curse, almost unconsciously. I’m not offended, strangely. My canal clenchs, and more creamy lubrication flows from my entrance, dripping down my thighs just from hearing how he calls me. "Fuck, you like this, don’t you? You like sucking my cock with your mom in the same house?"

I remain silent, too busy enjoying his pleasure. I moan and try to nod, but his hand doesn't let me go, pushing me harder against his pubis. His pace quickens, and even though it's hard to keep up, I continue sloppyly, drooling.

"You must be so wet just because my cock is in your mouth." He chuckles, because he knows it's true; his firm hand is caressing my back down to my ass. He strokes my skin before slapping my buttocks hard. I choke, afraid my mother will hear us, but he doesn’t stop, and neither do I. My head is so clouded with pleasure that I can't think of anything else but him.

"Kook, cum for me... please." I plead; my eyes water. He grunts with a raspy voice and throws his head back. I use my tongue on the frenulum of his cock because I notice it's more sensitive there, and suck harder, almost ferociously. Jungkook moans and growls, and I know he's close. His face turns red, and his chest freezes, as if he no longer needs to breathe. He suddenly opens his eyes, biting his lips furiously.

"Open your mouth. You're going to swallow all my cum." He commands, without asking for permission, as if he knows I would give it anyway.

I keep going, not stopping; my lips hurt, and my jaw does too, but I really want to see him come and I keep that as my main goal. The first spurt goes straight to my throat, catching me off guard, until he fills my mouth with his cum, making me swallow it all at once, as he promised. I don't feel disgusted; on the contrary, I enjoy it so much that I clean him off completely, until the last drop of his pleasure, kissing his cock when he whimpers from sensitivity. I smile when he catches his breath and looks back at me, as if he's in the clouds, feeling light and tired.

"I'm drained..." He says softly and in a whiny tone. He seems like an innocent boy, not a man who just forced me to take all of him.

"You called me a slut." I comment, laughing a little. It's the first thing that comes to my mind when everything is over. I laugh even more, seeing his cheeks turn red, as if he felt more ashamed than I did about what happened.

"I'm not going to apologize. I saw that you liked it." Jungkook argues, laughing too. I nod in agreement. I didn't know I liked this kind of thing, but I do. I stroke his tattooed arm and give it a little kiss, addicted to touching him. "Lie down on the bed, I want to suck your pussy."

"Aren't you afraid my mother will show up?" I ask, but I obey, lying down on the bed. "I'm afraid she'll hear us both."

"Just ask me to stop...even though we both know you won't." He winks at me. My back hits the mattress when he presses his palm on my belly, and literally pulling my legs to the mattress, my thighs are spread wide apart. He takes my ankle, caresses it, and then puts it over his shoulders, bringing his face closer to my intimacy. I'm embarrassed, I won't lie, but I'm so horny that I can't wait for him to start.

"Please, Jungkook, touch me already." I say when he takes his time to caress my skin with his fingertips, without touching directly where I want it most.

"Don't be impatient." He laughs, oblivious to my desperation. I grunt, grumpy.

"Please..."

"Needy." He says ironically, mocking me, as if he hadn't suffered with me minutes before. His bright eyes turn to my pussy and he smiles, before kissing my crotch and caressing my skin. I try to laugh at the situation, but the truth is that it makes me even more excited. His fingers part my small lips and he licks from my entrance to my clitoris, closing his eyes and frowning, as if he were eating something and really enjoying the taste. "Fuck! You're so wet."

I don't say anything because I know it's the truth. I hold his hair lightly, giving him more freedom to caress me. I watch carefully as his lips surround my most sensitive bud, kissing and sucking my clit. His nose is all sticky with my lubrication, but he's not afraid to get dirty and sinks his tongue into my hole, driving me crazy and boiling. I feel him inside me, hot and wet, going in and out. I moan, covering my mouth to be as quiet as possible, but I don't know if I'm very successful and I don't care. I'm in heaven, with the delicious sensation of my pleasure and there's nothing in the world that can take me out of this trance.

He takes his tongue out of me, swallows my taste and brings his mouth closer to my clitoris once more. I have to remove a lock of his hair in front of his eyes to see him better, feeling the tips of his fingers exploring my channel. I relax my body and wait for the penetration, watching with concentration as the flesh separates to accommodate him inside me. I sway my hips, feeling the sensation of being filled to the limit in my intimacy. I imagine what it would feel like if it were his cock, much bigger and thicker.

"Is it here?" Jungkook asks, looking at me carefully, curling his fingers upwards in search of that spongy spot that had driven me crazy last time.

"A little deeper, Kook…" I instruct, knowing he is close. My intimacy contracts instantly when he finds it, massaging and caressing my pleasure point with intensity. "R-right there… keep going, please."

And he continues. His fingers go in and out again, more vehemently. He sucks me as he picks up the pace and penetrates me, in a long and intense thrust. Out and in, fast and strong. I moan louder this time, unable to help myself, guiding his lips back to my clitoris. His nose feels good in contact with my slit, adding to all the delicious sensations at the bottom of my belly. His fingers are long but painless, using the moisture of my pleasure around my entrance and making them wetter, before erupting again. I know I'm going to cum, I remember everything I felt that night with him and I know I'm very close.

"Oh my God...! I'm going to cum!"

"Don't cum." He orders, raising his head, but doesn't slow down. His arm moves in time, massaging my clit with his thumb.

"I-I can't." I choke, at my limit. My heart races and my legs tremble, almost on the edge, falling and diving at my peak, when Jungkook suddenly stops. My eyes fill with tears and my throat closes. My imminent pleasure begins to cool, until it goes away all at once. I hold my nipple and contort my body trying to make it come back, but it's impossible. "Why Jungkook? I was... I was so close."

"I know." He laughs mercilessly, kissing my belly. He sucks his fingers wet with my lubrication and puts them inside me again. He easily finds my pleasure spot, even more sensitive and delicate because of the denial of orgasm. I try to close my legs but he stops me and wraps my ankles around his shoulders again. "You'll thank me when we're done." He doesn't wait for an answer and goes back to sucking and licking on my clitoris sloppyly, swollen from the loss of climax.

My intimacy is very sensitive, his touches twice as intense. I relax my body and trust my pleasure to Jungkook, holding onto his hair and waiting expectantly for the warm feeling in my stomach to return. And it comes fast, stronger. He seems to know my body very well, better than I do, so I concentrate and don't think about anything else, emptying my mind. I sigh and close my eyes, unable to face the image of him crouching in front of me, focused on giving me everything. It's too much for me.

My clitoris becomes the main object of his caresses and although they are not strong, they are intense and deep. He knows exactly what he's doing. "Jungkook! Fuck..." I moan breathlessly. I pull and pinch my nipple hard, pulling myself away from the bed. My back is soaked in sweat, my body is so hot. I grunt, feeling something strange in my intimacy. It's different from other times, a desire to pee that Jungkook's fingers only incite. I sigh and grind my waist, rubbing my clit against his mouth, my orgasm and the hot sensation growing stronger. "Kook... Stop. There's something strange."

"Trust me, Y/N." He whispers, looking into my eyes. "Relax that pussy and cum really good, love."

I roll my eyes and writhe on the bed. My heart races and my breathing catches. The most delicious and hot sensation releases itself inside me and I fall onto the mattress, my arms weak. Jungkook doesn't stop at all and sticks his fingers deep inside, massaging my sticky inner walls. It's the longest orgasm I've ever had, as if it never ends. I bite my hand, trying not to scream, but it's very difficult. I'm literally on another planet. My whole body trembles and a sob escapes my throat. Only then do I realize that I'm crying, this experience is so intense and incredible for me. With my free hand, I push Jungkook away a little, feeling pain from the sensitivity. I need a few good minutes to recover, taking a deep breath and relaxing my muscles. When I look down, with my eyelids closed and weak, I'm shocked to notice the wet sheets and his chest damp from my pleasure. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but no words come out.

"How are you?" Jungkook asks, gently lowering my legs. He picks up my shirt thrown between the covers and cleans himself, with a smile.

"Did I pee on you?" my eyes widen, moving from side to side to avoid looking at him. I hear him laugh, before he holds my chin and caresses my cheek.

"You squirted. It's not pee." He explains, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. His thumb touches my cheekbone, wiping away my tears. "You cried. It was the most delicious and exciting thing I've ever seen in my life."

"Did I pee on you?" I ask again, just to confirm. He laughs, throwing his head back.

"No, I swear. That's never happened to you?"

"No, never. I already told you... My first orgasms were with you." I only feel embarrassed and realize what I said when he smiles at me, laying his chest on top of my breasts.

"Have you never touched yourself?" he asks curiously, playing with my nipple to make it swell. It's strange because I can see in his eyes that he's moving my body, at least for now, without malice, as if he's touching me without ulterior motives. I frown at his action but decide to be permissive, fingering his scalp, blowing on the dark strands wet with sweat. We urgently need a shower.

"I've tried," I confess, finding it easier to say this when his eyes aren't on me. "But I've never felt the way I feel when I'm with you."

"After we were together..." He begins, lifting his face, watching my reactions. "Have you ever tried to touch yourself while thinking about me?"

"You'll never know," I reply, laughing. He pouts his lips but nods, as if he agrees even though he's sulking.

"Okay, I'll accept you not answering me on one condition," he says mysteriously. His finger plays with his eyebrow piercing before he continues. "The next time we meet, you'll touch yourself in front of me."

"You're kidding, right?" My eyes widen. My whole body tenses at his suggestion, a little scared. Does anyone do something like that? It's such an intimate thing and touching yourself in front of someone... I never imagined something like that.

"Say yes. You won't regret it. I even have a surprise for you when we meet."

"You're not serious."

"I'm serious all the time, woman." He teases, pulling my nipple hard. I groan in surprise, hitting his arm. I start laughing along with him, laughing out loud, when I hear a noise at my bedroom door, as if someone outside was trying to open it.

My heart races and my body immediately trembles. For a while, I completely forgot where I was. I didn't even remember my mother's existence or the possibility of her ever showing up.

"Y/N, open this door now." My mother says from the other side. I feel a little calmer because she seems irritated, but not crazy, as she would be if she knew who was with me in my room. I jump out of bed, feeling my legs weak from the powerful orgasm, but with adrenaline running through my veins. I look at Jungkook putting on his shirt and searching for his clothes in the middle of the mess. I stare at him, trying to know what to do, but he seems more focused on organizing my room than helping me.

"I'm coming, mom... I'm working out!" I shout, putting on my shirt. I gesture for Jungkook to leave my room through the window, but he points down, showing his penis swinging from side to side, practically naked without his underwear. I start to laugh nervously, afraid that my mother will catch us at any moment. Holy shit! "Wait a little longer!"

I gesture again for him to leave, and quickly throw his clothes on, putting on my skirt that was thrown under the bed. He laughs and before jumping out my window, he takes a few steps back and turns to me. His forehead touches mine and his bright eyes fix on mine. My heart beats faster and I feel butterflies in my stomach. I know that my nervousness, at this moment, is not for my mother. He kisses me, a quick and simple peck, before going to his balcony, waving one last time and turning off the light in his room. I close my window, waking up from my daydreams and opening the door to my mother, who looks irritated.

"What took you so long?" She asks, putting her hands on her hips. I cover my room with my arms and walk to the bathroom.

"I told you, I was working out." I repeat, crossing my arms in front of my chest. My entire body is wet with sweat, and I avoid her proximity as much as possible, knowing that I smell of sex and men's perfume.

"I didn't know you worked out." She narrows her eyes.

"Yeah." I shrug, smiling forcedly. "Why did you come to call me?"

"I'm going to have a work trip tomorrow, in Seoul. I'll be away for a few days, so I need you to take care of the bazaar for me this week."

"Okay." I quickly agree, opening the bathroom door. "Is that all?"

"Yes, that was all. Good night." She walks away coldly, entering her own room.

I sigh in relief and lock the door, staring at myself in the mirror. My hair is a mess, tangled and full of knots. My mind returns to normal and I have to sit on the toilet lid to breathe a little. I laugh in disbelief and shake my head in disbelief. What just happened?

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@ttipa @joonwater @ane102

[fafnir19]

When wishes come true

Sebastian was elbow-deep in the clutter of an old man's attic, sifting through forgotten trinkets and discarded relics while working a clearing job for an estate.

His fingers brushed against something smooth and cool, and when he lifted it into the dim light, he discovered a lustrous golden bottle. "This is pretty cool," he thought. His boss, the clutter-clearing specialist, saw the gleam in Sebastian's eyes and chuckled. "You can keep that one, kid," he said, as Sebastian carefully stowed the bottle in his backpack. Returning to his cramped student apartment, Sebastian methodically cleaned the bottle. In a whirl of sparkling dust, a figure emerged from within, billowing into the room in a shimmer of iridescence. "Greetings, master! I am Dailan, the genie of this bottle, and you, dear Sebastian, have three wishes at your disposal," the figure announced with a flourish.

Sebastian, thinking it a joke, sarcastically announced his first wish: "Yeah, right. I wish this place was spotless." With a melodious hum, Dailan granted the wish, leaving the room immaculate. "Seriously?" Sebastian murmured, incredulous that he had wasted a wish so frivolously. He mulled over his next move and wished for a smoother path through his studies without such hard work as clearing other people clutter. Dailan nodded, and Sebastian soon received a generous scholarship.

Days passed, and Dailan gently prodded Sebastian about his final wish, but the student remained undecided. "I'll think about it later," he evaded, to Dailan's growing concern. After continual prodding, Dailan explained that he could only fulfill others' wishes once Sebastian had chosen his. Accordingly he shouldn't be so selfish and wait any longer. Unperturbed, Sebastian remained indecisive. A year elapsed, and still, Sebastian hesitated.

One fateful evening, as Sebastian hurried down a dimly lit staircase, his foot slipped, and his body tumbled down, crashing onto the hard floor with a sickening crack. Pain seared through Sebastian's body as darkness threatened to claim him. With his last breath, he heard Dailan's voice echo around him, reminding him of his unclaimed wish. "Sebastian, your final wish," Dailan's voice urged, the urgency palpable. But it was too late. Sebastian's consciousness slipped away. Sebastian awoke to an unfamiliar sight. He found himself in a boundless expanse, surrounded by a vibrant, otherworldly energy. His mind felt weightless, detached from his physical form. Suddenly, Dailan materialized before him, his form shimmering in the ethereal light. "Sebastian, as the one who did not make his final wish, you are now destined to take my place." "What do you mean?" Sebastian's voice trembled as he struggled to comprehend. "You are now Lux, the genie of the bottle," Dailan declared.

"You will grant the wishes of others, just as I have done for you. It is your fate and your burden." Panic gripped Sebastian as the realization sunk in. Trapped in this role for eternity, he understood the weight of his missed opportunity. "But I never asked for this! I never wanted this!" Sebastian screamed, his voice echoing across the boundless expanse. Dailan's form began to fade. "I'm sorry, Lux. This is your destiny now," he whispered before vanishing completely. With a heavy heart, Lux accepted his new reality. As time passed and the world outside the bottle carried on, Lux was bound to wait for his next summoner.

In the wake of Sebastian's death, the apartment underwent refurbishment, with Jasper, the son of the landlord, overseeing the renovations.

Amid the empty rooms, he discovered a solitary blue bottle coated in a veil of dust. In a whimsical impulse, Jasper polished the bottle, and from its depths, Lux emerged, resplendent and enigmatic. "Hello, Jasper. I am Lux, and you hold three wishes in your grasp," Lux intoned with an otherworldly glint in his eyes.

Jasper, his heart pounding with disbelief, tried to make sense of this unearthly encounter. "I must be dreaming," he murmured. "I assure you, Jasper, this is no mere dream. You have stumbled upon a most extraordinary opportunity," Lux insisted, his tone firm yet remarkably soothing. Shrugging off the surreal encounter, Jasper dismissed the opportunity. "I have everything I could possibly want. I don't need any wishes," he conveyed with an air of nonchalance. "It is not about need, my dear Jasper, but about desires unspoken," Lux countered, his gaze piercing and inscrutable. Returning to his abode, Jasper's mind swirled with conflicting thoughts. Lux's words echoed in his mind, urging him to consider the true extent of his desires. Inwardly troubled by the authenticity of his friendships and the superficiality of his aspirations, he revealed to Lux his feeling that others liked him only for his wealth and looks. So Jasper pondered the implications of his emerging wishes. "Fine, if this is what it takes to prove a point, then I wish for someone who surpasses me in wealth and allure, enough to turn straight man gay," Jasper declared, half in jest, half in earnest. Despite his uncertainty in mastering his magic, Lux felt compelled to grant the wish. Suddenly, in a surge of blue light, Lux transformed into a wealthy and captivating figure, stunning in both opulence and charisma, leaving both of them astonished.

Delighted with the outcome, Jasper reveled in the world's admiration for Lux's splendor.

Jasper and Lux strolled through the opulent streets, where designer boutiques beckoned with their luxurious wares. Jasper, resplendent in his tailored suit, and Lux, exuding an almost regal air with his chiseled features and impeccably styled hair, attracted admiring glances as they indulged in a spree of lavish shopping.

Lux emerged from the changing room to see a satisfied grin on Jasper's face. Jasper was content, believing Lux's presence as a wealthy, attractive man would divert attention from himself.

Swathed in the finest fabrics and adorned with extravagant jewelry, they basked in the attention their wealth and attractiveness garnered.

Their escapades extended to the realm of leisure, where they reveled in upscale recreational pursuits befitting their status. Lux accompanied Jasper to exclusive venues, where they partook in leisurely yacht cruises to savor the allure of the sea, and engaged in spirited matches of tennis at elite clubs.

At night, they graced extravagant soirees, their presence commanding attention and admiration. Jasper and Lux immersed themselves in the glittering extravagance that their affluent lifestyles afforded. Lux found himself immersed in a world once beyond his reach, infusing every endeavor with an infectious joy, reveling in each moment as he came to understand the allure of wealth and luxury from an entirely new vantage point.

Worried about Jasper's fate, Lux shared his own story and urged Jasper to express his final two wishes, even if it meant parting ways as Lux moved on to serve his next master.

After a soirée, Jasper and Lux ​​walked home through a dimly lit alley, where they fell victim to a violent attack by a robber. Jasper was seriously wounded.

Realizing the gravity of his situation, Jasper hastily uttered, "I wish for my recovery, and for the assailant to take your place as the genie." A infernal swirl of smoke enveloped the scene, and the assailant transformed into a genie. Lux regarded  the events unfolding.

Expecting Lux to vanish into thin air, Jasper was surprised as Lux remained, now merely a regular human—albeit rich and handsome. "Lux?" Jasper called out, uncertainty lacing his voice. "You wished for the assailant to take my place," Lux explained gently. "My essence is no longer confined to the bottle and I can stay with you." Jasper marveled at these unforeseen developments. The assailant, now transformed into a genie, stood awkwardly amidst the unreal setting, grappling with his newfound abilities.   The new genie, riddled with confusion and uncertainty, struggled to comprehend his newfound existence as Lux and Jasper embraced their friendship and unspoken connection.

Some days later the genie-turned assailant appeared and says:

"Lux has not fully fulfilled your first wish. I'm here to fix this. Your first wish was that Lux shall turn straight man gay. Therefore, from now on you will be gay and desire Lux.” Suddenly, Jasper began to show his affection for Lux intimately. The genie laughed darkly: “How sweet you are, Jasper. I guess you’ll make Lux bi in no time and your bromance will turn into a romance.”

[justwinginglife]

Playing Pretend/Summer

25 Days of Simpmas: Day Six December 6th: Kiyoka Kudo, Rank 20 Anime: My Happy Marriage Event Masterlist I couldn't pick just one title so it has two because I'm indecisive.

“Don’t even start with me; you know why I’m here.” 

Kiyoka scoffed at you, straightening his shoulders to encompass more of the doorway. With the way he was acting, like you were some enemy messenger, sent to wage war on his otherwise peaceful life, you were sure that by now he’d read the letter from his sister, explaining that she had sent you to aid him in the search for a bride. You resisted the urge to laugh, watching as he attempted to create a blockade in the doorway with nothing more than his slim, sulky figure. What did he think- that if he blocked the entrance, you’d simply turn around and go home? If he locked the door, you’d simply pick it. If he barred the door, you’d simply break it. Then there was the option of sneaking in through the window or shimmying down the chimney; after all, that was the reason she’d sent you, of all people. 

Besides the fact that you’d always had a soft spot for her younger brother -and he’d always had a soft spot for you- more than anything, you were headstrong. Maybe she thought if you couldn’t convince him to see reason, you’d at least drive him so crazy with your stubbornness that he’d run straight into another woman’s arms. Either way, it didn’t change what you’d been sent here to do. 

“Kiyoka, Hazuki asked me to come. So I’ve come. And I’m not leaving until we talk.”

 “You may tell my sister that she need not send her spies; I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Kiyoka,” You exclaimed exasperatedly, “I’m not here to report on you to your sister.”

He raised an eyebrow, still skeptical of your words. “Then what are you here for?”

“To help.”

“I don’t need your ‘help.’ You may return home; I shall report to Hazuki that you tried your best so you need not be concerned that she will reprimand your failures. You may tell her that I am simply unable to be convinced.”

You rolled your eyes and slipped by him, entering his home unsolicited. As you showed yourself around, you examined as much of your surroundings as you could before you figured he’d interrupt. His living quarters appeared orderly enough, given that Kiyoka had always been an organized man, but it was obvious that a feminine touch was clearly needed. It was as if he’d made the place his second office. You’d heard of a home away from home, but this was his work away from work, and it had to stop now. You were here to make it stop.

His sister had been concerned about his disinterest in anything but work, especially when it came to members of the opposite sex, so you’d been sent to convince him to revisit the idea of marriage prospects as a favor to her. But it wasn’t just that. You’d grown up with Kiyoka and Hazuki, and though you saw Hazuki nearly everyday, it’d been awhile since you’d last seen her younger brother. And you missed him. Today’s visit was just one you were long overdue. 

“I don’t recall allowing you permission to enter my home,” Kiyoka grumbled as he followed behind you cautiously. 

“Kiyoka. I’ll put it bluntly: stop being such a stick in the mud.”

He froze for a brief second before recovering, a hint of a smile appearing at the edge of his lips. “There’s that smart mouth of yours; I was wondering when it would show itself. Apparently several years in a boarding school did nothing to curb your attitude.”

You snorted. “And apparently several years serving as a commander did nothing to train you on how to prevent intruders from invading your home.”

“So you admit you’re intruding?”

“Intruding and conquering. As of today, I’ve officially claimed my territory. And my first act as resident dictator is to demand you sit down. I’m making dinner.”

It was as though you’d spoken in a foreign language because suddenly Kiyoka’s gaze began conducting a thorough examination of you, as if the glimmer in your eyes or the straightening of your posture might give him some hint that would allow him to decipher your words. “You’re… what? I have a cook, why are you making dinner?” 

You winked at him and his heart thundered in his chest. “So you can pretend you know what it’s like to have a wife.” You said in a teasing tone.

He followed you into the kitchen, cheeks ablaze, still protesting as you began to prep and cut vegetables. “I don’t need to pretend to have a wife, as I’ve no need for a wife.”

You deposited the vegetables into a pot. “You keep talking like that, and you’re gonna end up marrying me.” You didn’t look up to see his reaction, but his silence said enough. You smiled to yourself. Commands an entire army, but still shy around a girl, even if she is his childhood friend. Same old Kiyoka. “Remember?” You asked nonchalantly as you stirred the pot. “We said when we were kids that if we couldn’t find anyone to marry, we’d just marry each other.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “That was… a naive suggestion, proposed by mere children. We couldn’t have known the responsibility that would come with such a weighted promise. I have never held you to it and would never hold you to it.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.” You continued to swirl your spoon around and around the pot, waiting for a response from him, waiting to hear more than just the sloshing of the stew hitting your spoon. Why was the sloshing suddenly so damn loud? Why could you hear the birds chirping outside the window and even the fire roaring beneath your pot, but you couldn’t so much as hear him breathe? You’d laughed to yourself about him being shy, but why were you the one who was now ready to shrink into a corner? Maybe you’d gone too far with your teasing- too far for the both of you.  

“You’re stirring too hard.” Kiyoka’s fingers brushed against yours as he slipped the spoon out of your hand. “You’ll burn yourself if you keep letting the water splash like that.” With one arm, he gently guided you behind him as he proceeded to take charge over dinner. 

You laughed softly. Yup. Same old Kiyoka. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one cooking?”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe you can be the one pretending you have a husband.”

Eventually dinner was served, dinner was had, and then dinner was a thing of the past. But even as you lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, you willed memories of dinner to replay in your mind, like you were watching your favorite play. Winter’s frost had started to seep into the weary bones of this house and yet you’d never felt warmer, remembering the way he had untied the strings of your apron, “pretending” to be your husband, and the way you had spoon fed him the stew, “pretending” to be his wife, and the way he poured you a cup of sake, toasting to your health, “pretending” to be your husband, and the way he’d chuckled when you dabbed at his cheek with a napkin, “pretending” to be his wife, and the way pretending didn’t feel like pretending anymore when it was with him.

You could go back to winter in the morning. You could go back to the real reason you’d come. You could help find him a wife, watch him be married off, and go back to the city, go back to your life, like nothing had ever happened between the two of you. You could go back to winter in the morning, but for now, in the dark of your room, in the dead of the night, it was summer. It was all warmth and light and Kiyoka. It was the way he tied your hair as thanks for tying his. It was the way he walked you to your bedroom, like some scoundrel might kidnap you on the mere journey down the hall. It was the way he said goodnight so tenderly, so fondly, like he’d lived his life just to be able to wish you sweet dreams and bid you well rest. 

And when you woke in the morning, you discovered that even the impending threat of reality couldn’t diminish the joy of waking up and realizing he was just a door away. And then you wondered what it would be like to wake up and be only a breath away.

He interrupted your fantasizing.

“I’m going into town.” 

You blinked away your wishful thinking. “Oh, alright. I suppose I’ll be here when you get back.”

He lingered by your door another moment more. “...You could… come into town with me.”

You just couldn’t help the smile that spilled across your face and he couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ll be five minutes!” You exclaimed excitedly, closing the door on him so that you could get ready.  

He shook his head, amused, as he listened to you chaotically rummaging through your wardrobe. Just how much did you pack for this “short visit?”

“I’ll give you an hour!” He called through the door.

“Won’t take me that long!” You called back.

He chuckled to himself. Yes, yes it will. 

59 minutes later (you didn’t want to give him free reign to tease you for taking the full hour), you looped your arm through his and sauntered off with him, ready to take on the town. 

You should’ve been more focused on your image, should’ve been more aware of the people gawking at the two of you, as you giddily paraded through town with him, but even with all of those years learning how to sit and stand and speak like a proper lady, sometimes, when you were with Kiyoka, you were simply the girl he’d taught how to skip rocks or the girl who’d taught him how to wish on dandelions. 

That girl was very dear to Kiyoka. But so was the girl who spoke many languages, who played many instruments, who wrote eloquently in her letters, who danced elegantly at balls, who sewed, who sung, who suddenly knew how to cook (as he’d always remembered her as the girl who somehow burnt his onigiri- you said it’d grown ‘cold’ and he’d chuckled into his hand before telling you it was supposed to be eaten cold.) The girl you had been and the girl you had to be both shared room in his heart, and he’d make even more room for even more versions of you that could ever or would ever exist.

So, as he watched the girl he held so dear prance her merry way from store to store, he thought he might allow himself to pretend a bit more.

“As your… doting ‘husband,’ I suppose I could find it in myself to purchase a few gifts for you. What would you like? You may name anything.”

You stopped in your tracks, eyes agleam. “Really? Anything?”

You discovered quickly that when he said anything, he truly did mean anything. After he agreed to buy you hats, gloves, and jewelry, you decided to further test the bounds of his graciousness. When, at your behest, he bought you sweets, gowns, a music box, a new instrument, and even a kitten, you realized that not only did he mean he’d buy you anything, he meant to buy you everything. All in the name of being a “proper husband.”

But you were not about to let him show you up. You bought him several new suits. A new sword. New belts. New robes. New cufflinks. New shoes. New ties. An extravagant lunch. All in the name of being a “proper wife.” 

Of course, he tried not to let you, but you’d say it was his job as your “husband” to let his “wife” dress him up and stuff him full. You were just getting him into the habit of playing the part, after all- that was what you’d been sent to do. You’d accustom him to the life of being a husband and, little by little, the prospect of marriage wouldn’t seem so bad. 

So, as the week went on, your little charade continued, and you reprised your roles as loving wife and husband. 

You’d clean his house until it was spotless, until it was sparkling. He’d open doors for you, lead you forward with his arm. You’d fix his ties, brush his hair. He’d massage your shoulders, sear his warmth into your skin. You’d walk him to the door, wish him a good day. He’d come home from work, present you with a bouquet of flowers. It was all fun and games.

And then the pet names started. 

He’d whisper his terms of endearment against your ear, murmuring “my dearest” and “my darling,” until you were flushed and flustered. And then he’d smirk, with stupid satisfaction sitting pretty on his lips. But, unwilling to be outdone, you’d then dance your fingers down his chest, purring “my lord” and “my love,” and it would be his turn to blush abashedly. 

The cycle continued, and the line between pretend and reality was quick to blur. A day longer in this place, and you swore, you probably would’ve told even the mailman that you were now the lady of the house. A day longer and you probably would’ve planted a garden, ordered new wallpaper, started some project that only a resident of this house could see to its finish. A day longer and you might’ve caved, asked him to marry you for real, asked him to love you for real. 

But no matter how pleasant the summer, the winter always comes. And you didn’t have a day more to spare. You’d spent a wonderful week by his side, but the days that had already passed only served as proof that your time with him was ending. And you were due back home. Due to report your failings to Hazuki. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t set your brother up with someone; I was too busy pretending he was set up with me.”

“Sorry, I tried to imagine him marrying someone else and I think I almost puked.”

“Sorry, I love him. Actually, I’m not that sorry.”

As you packed up your things, you sighed. For Hazuki’s sake, you’d have to give it at least one more try before you said goodbye. 

You found him in his office, like usual. You’d spent this whole week trying to pull him out of there, trying to get him to lighten up, live a little. And, for a moment, he was. He was living, he was enjoying himself. He’d spend his mornings watching you cook, his afternoons entertaining you, his evenings reminiscing with you, and his nights wishing to do it all over again the next day. 

But then you told him you had to leave. 

And it was as though all the progress you’d made with him was whisked away by the winter wind. And he was back in his office again. No more laughing. No more relaxing into your touch. No more crinkling at the edge of his eyes as he gave you a smile that made you want to kiss him. That made you need to kiss him. No more playing pretend. No more. 

You knew it was coming. You both knew. It wasn’t a surprise. But what was a surprise was when you gave it one more weak attempt to suggest potential brides and he actually began to look over the files that you’d brought with you. Was he actually considering marrying one of these airheaded heiresses? And how rude would it be if you suddenly ripped up the papers in his hands? Would he laugh with you, thank you for saving him? Or would he rush to tape the shredded pieces back together, call up the first girl on the page? 

Please. I beg you. Please, please, don’t pick her.

You held your breath as he read the first file. 

He smiled. He actually fucking smiled.

That’s it. You were doomed. All was lost. 

“Not this one.”

You blinked. What? But he just… he smiled? Why did he smile if he didn’t want her? You took the paper from him, confused. 

He took the next paper from your shaking hands. When he read the sheet, he smiled again. This time, a little wider.

What the fuck? 

“Next.”

Your brows furrowed. What was he playing at? How was he appearing so interested in these women as he read through their profiles and yet he was quickly rejecting them like they were nothing more than mud beneath his shoes? Not even beneath his shoes, beneath his horse’s shoes. You didn’t mind, but it certainly made you curious. You passed him the next paper, examining him warily. 

This time he CHUCKLED. And then crumpled up the paper into a ball.

“Okay. Pause. What is going on right now, Kiyoka?”

He shrugged. “I’m going through marriage prospects. Like you asked.”

You raised a brow. “Are you though?” You slid the first candidate’s profile back onto his desk. “What was wrong with her? You smiled. Why did you smile? Doesn’t that mean you liked something you read? Why not choose her then? What’s wrong with her?” You bombarded him with questions, not stopping for breath. 

“She loves cherries.” He said simply.

You rubbed your temples so hard you thought a genie might appear. “Okay… And why does that mean you can’t marry her?”

“You’re allergic to cherries.” 

WHAT? “I’m sorry, what does that mean?” You asked politely. 

“Well, she’ll want to have cherries in the house. And I simply can’t have them, not when you’re allergic.” He repeated, grinning slightly.

“But why would that make you smile?”

“I was remembering that time we discovered you were allergic to cherries. You’d confessed you’d felt the tingling on your tongue from the very first bite but still, you couldn’t help yourself and you continued to devour them until there was nothing left but littered cherry pits all over the floor and your swollen tongue to remember them by.” 

You blushed at the thought. After that day, you never ate cherries again. Besides your cheeks puffing up and your tongue going so agonizingly numb, you’d stuffed yourself so full that you swore you felt the cherries bursting in your belly for days after that, and it made you so incredibly sick. You couldn’t believe he’d remembered it. 

You shook your head and went back to the matter at hand, slamming down the next file on his desk. “What about her?” You pointed at the picture of the next woman he’d smiled at.

“She’s a violinist.”

You sighed. He was going to make you do all the work, wasn’t he? You’d really have to ask if you wanted him to explain. “And what’s wrong with marrying a violinist, Kiyoka?”

“Absolutely nothing, you’re a violinist after all.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay. So. There’s nothing wrong with marrying a violinist, but there’s something wrong with marrying this violinist. Am I getting this right?”

His teasing grin made an appearance. “That’s correct.”

“And what’s wrong with her specifically?”

“Well, she’s not as good as you are at playing the violin.”

“You’ve never heard her play.”

“Trust me. She’s not as good.”

You rolled your eyes but a hint of a smile tugged at your lips. If you didn’t love this man so immensely, you’d find him ridiculous. “So. Then. Why. Did. You. Smile. So. Big??”

His grin widened. “I was remembering why you’re so good at the violin, why no one will ever be as good as you. You practiced for days and nights, you practiced so long I thought your fingers might bleed. And you sound amazing. But you didn’t always.” He brought his hand up to cover his mouth. You discerned a slight shake in his shoulders. Was he laughing at you?? “Once, I… I thought I’d sneak into your practice room to see how you were doing. I thought you were attempting to murder a goose.” 

“Kiyoka!” You exclaimed, ears tinting red. After a moment of excruciating embarrassment, you finally crossed your arms and asked, “Was it… was it really that bad?” 

He chortled. “It was less like murdering a goose, and more like performing an exorcism on one.”

You pinched his cheek in annoyance. 

He grinned and captured your hand in his. “But you sound like an angel now?” He offered up innocently. 

“Meanie.” You grumbled. “Fine. What about her?” You uncrumpled the balled up piece of paper.

“Her? What about her? She’s not you. None of them are you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you pressed on. “So why did you laugh so hard then?” 

“We actually ran into her the day we went into town. You don’t remember her because you were too busy loading up the car with gifts.” He shook his head, chuckling. “Anyway, she said something I will not repeat, and right as I was on the verge of chiding her, you attempted to drive the car over to me even though you’ve never driven a car before, because lord knows you’re a daredevil, and you drove through a puddle and splashed her -and me- with mud. Of course, you only focused on me, and rushed me home to get changed, driving like a madman the whole way.” His throat rumbled with laughter and he clutched his shaking sides for support. 

You blushed. “Oh dear, I suppose I should find her and apologize.”

He wiped a tear from his eye as he lifted his head to look at you again. “My wife doesn’t apologize. Or rather, she only apologizes to those who deserve it. And I love that about her. So, you need not apologize.” 

“Your… w-wife?” You coughed.

He nodded, gazing at you fondly. “We can waste the last of our precious time together, shuffling through these stacks of papers, trying to find me a bride, but I already know, in my heart, that no one will ever compare to the woman who stands before me now. I’ve already made her my wife once, I can stand to do it again.”

His words echoed in your ears, clashing with the sound of your hammering heart. 

And then he smiled that same smile that always made you want to kiss him.

And then you kissed him.

And he tasted like summer.

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter

[edosianorchids901]

Wake Up Call

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "blinding gaze"

Watson paused in the sitting room outside Holmes’ door, telegram in hand. He almost knocked, then didn’t.

It wasn’t like him to be quite this indecisive, but he still wasn’t quite sure what to think of his new roommate. Oh, he liked Holmes well enough, and very much enjoyed his company. Spending time with Holmes was far more pleasant than being on his own, with only the companionship of his bad memories.

But still, Holmes had a temper, and Watson wasn’t quite certain what set it off. Sometimes, he was perfectly relaxed. Other days, just speaking to him or making some other noise could result in a sharp snap or chastisement.

It didn’t seem to be intentional. Holmes always apologized, although often not in so many words. But it did make the prospect of waking him up less than appealing, especially as Mrs. Hudson had been yelled at last time she dared do such a thing.

Watson glanced once more at the telegram, which was most likely a clue to one case or another, or perhaps even the solution. With a deep breath, Watson braced himself and pushed the door open.

Holmes was still in bed, curled up facing the wall, blankets pulled up nearly over his face as if to hide from the bright late morning sunlight. Even in sleep he was tense, perhaps ready to spring into action the moment that something interesting happened.

Hesitant, Watson reached out, then drew back again. Perhaps the problem was that Mrs. Hudson had been too enthusiastic in waking him. Holmes was always very gentle when he woke Watson, either for a case or from a nightmare.

As lightly as possible, Watson touched Holmes’ upper arm. “Mr. Holmes, there’s—”

Holmes started violently, shoved the blankets back, and twisted to face him. His gaze, as blindingly intense as staring directly into the sun, froze Watson in place. “What?”

The disheveled appearance, hair falling across his eyes and nightshirt rumpled, did nothing to detract from the sheer force and mastery of being subjected to Holmes’ full focus. Watson very nearly went to attention, and only just managed to negate his old military training in favor of holding out the telegram.

Holmes snatched it from him, jaw clenched tight, teeth grinding. He read it and snorted. Then, with a snarl, he balled up the paper and flung it across the room, where it bounced off his dressing table. “An utter waste of time!”

Watson jumped at the shout, then had to again struggle against the urge to go to attention. He found himself suddenly unsteady, his already tattered nerves taxed by the outburst.

Almost at once, Holmes’ gaze snapped to him, every bit as intense. But then he softened, flicking a tiny, sad smile at Watson. “Watson. Forgive me, it is not you that I am angry with. Please.”

He gestured to the edge of the bed, and Watson sat. His brief alarm faded, replaced by immediate concern at the sadness of the smile. “Holmes, are you all right?”

Holmes sat up in bed, leaning back against pillows, and drew his knees up to his chest. He looped his arms around them and let out a long sigh. “I should perhaps have better explained the downsides to living with someone such as me, Watson. I fear that I lack self-control.”

Baffled, Watson stared at him. “Well, I must say that’s not how I would characterize you. I know we have not known each other long, but you seem to have an immense amount of control over, well… everything.”

That earned another faint smile, this one less sad. “That is what I intend people to think, but I am far less in control than I should like to be. There are certain days when no matter how hard I try, I cannot stop myself from being snappish and ill-tempered. I attempt to control such outbursts by retreating into solitude, but it is not always entirely successful.”

“I see. I suppose I can understand that. We all get short tempered at times.” Watson almost reached out to pat Holmes’ arm in reassurance, but that would likely be unhelpful. “And more serious troubles with emotional control are common in soldiers who have seen long service.”

“And yet, you do not snap at me. You are a very gentle man, Watson.” Sighing, Holmes slid a hand through his hair, pushing it off his brow. “I become very easily overwhelmed by the world, and when I am overwhelmed, it is difficult to maintain control.”

“Well, if you don’t mind my saying so, you regain control very quickly once you realize it.”

“Yes, I do attempt not to alienate everyone around me, or to cause distress. Today I was not sleeping well owing to the sounds of the street. I am also catastrophically bored.” Holmes gave a soft snort and glared towards the crumpled telegram. “And this case has proved exceedingly commonplace. My ‘missing person’ has run away with her husband’s brother’s best friend, as I suspected.”

“Well, then, it’s no wonder you’re upset! What a disappointing end to a case.” Watson hesitated a moment longer, but not out of anxiety this time. Now that he better understood his friend, he merely wanted to avoid making things harder for him when he was struggling. “Would you like to complain to me about it?”

Holmes gave him a startled look, and then a little smile. “You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Not in the least,” Watson said, and settled in to listen.