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thequackcity · 3 years ago

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Quackity and Schlatt’s Relationship - More Complicated Then You Think

(this is all /rp and about the characters from the dream smp! pls assume i have the dignity not to write analysis of youtubers)

recently there was a bit of discourse surrounding the relationship between Quackity and Schlatt floating around on tumblr. tho i never saw the original post that sparked the conversation, i did see a few posts that were inspired by it mentioning how they disliked that the original post implied that Quackity and Schlatt were mutually abusive and/or equally bad for each other

since i never saw the original post, i can't be sure if that's what the op meant to imply. it's not really my place to speak about a post that i never got the chance to read. BUT the conversation that was caused by the post in question did get me thinking about how this fandom treats the relationship between Quackity and Schlatt and how little nuance there is in discussions about it

now before i say anything else, i want to make a few things clear:

i don't think Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship is mutually abusive. no need to worry about hearing that from this post

i don't look down on ppl who have different interpretations of their relationship

there will be potentially triggering content in this analysis. i will place a quick warning whenever i think one is needed!

their relationship is romantic in canon and therefore i’ll be treating it as romantic

alright now that we’ve gotten all of that out of the way, we can finally get on with the analysis! i apologize for how long this is gonna be

part 1: let's talk relationship!

i think we can all agree that Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was not exactly a healthy one. tho it didn't start out that way, it certainly turned into what could be read as abusive or toxic (i personally read their relationship as being abusive in its later half due to evidence provided by the text, but i understand if others prefer to view it as just toxic instead)

but what happened that led to their partnership ending so badly? what caused all of this mess?

well, it was a lot of things. but we will get to that later. let's talk relationship first!

from the very beginning, Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was pretty one-sided. tho they both clearly liked each other as friends/partners in crime both before and after the election (yes they did interact before the election!) Quackity was also interested in Schlatt romantically- something that Schlatt wasn't fully committed to

as we all know from the infamous date stream and from a few other moments, Quackity and Schlatt enjoyed playfully flirting with each other- tho it was pretty obvious that Quackity was more serious about it then Schlatt was even tho Schlatt considered Quackity to be very attractive

in my opinion, Quackity is someone who wants a long term relationship, while Schlatt is more interested in flings. this can be seen in Schlatt refusing to marry Quackity and rejecting most of his advances while Quackity tried his best to convince him to feel otherwise. Tommy put it best: Quackity is just one of Schlatt’s many bitches U_U

to Quackity, the romantic aspect of their relationship was very important. because Schlatt never actually shot him down or told him that he didn't feel the same way, Quackity took that to mean that they were truly in love. Schlatt on the other hand wasn't very invested in the romantic side of things but clearly valued Quackity’s looks and his support as an ally against Pogtopia so he never fully rejected Quackity’s advances

this might not seem like too big of a deal considering the other things that happened between them, but i think it shows part of the nature of their relationship. there is a lot of miscommunication and, on Schlatt’s end, manipulation of emotions. love is a strong motivator for loyalty and Schlatt is a smart guy who would know how to use that to his advantage

but that isn't to say that Schlatt didn't ever care about Quackity!

Schlatt is a complicated guy and figuring out when he's actually being genuine can be pretty difficult. but i think there are some moments that point to Schlatt genuinely caring about Quackity

when he was alive, Schlatt was pretty paranoid. not as paranoid as Wilbur, but certainly up there. but there were never any times where he truly questioned Quackity’s loyalties after his first day as president. Schlatt also seemed truly upset that Quackity betrayed him, bringing up their status as partners in crime while ranting about how much it hurt him and singling Quackity out while talking about how he had been abandoned during his time of need

Schlatt also spent a lot of time sulking after Quackity betrayed him and whining to Ponk about needing a new bitch. this is in contrast to how angry he was after Tubbo betrayed him- both during and after the execution

there is also the situation with the Big Man Gym

after being dead for a while, Schlatt contacted Quackity despite them leaving off on bad terms and asked for him to visit him in his cave gym. when Quackity showed up, Schlatt talked about how he valued their relationship and the good times they had together. tho this can easily be seen as emotional manipulation, Schlatt’s a lot smarter than he seems and- if he doesnt have memory issues due to being a ghost- would know that Quackity’s opinion of him was in the dump at the time of his death and most likely wouldn't have improved since then. Fundy has a higher opinion of Schlatt than Quackity does and is someone who obviously craves validation. but Schlatt went to Quackity first anyway and trusted him to help revive him

i think that this is all good evidence that points towards Schlatt truly caring about Quackity as much as someone like Schlatt can care about anyone- or at least valuing him as a companion

i also think that it is pretty common knowledge that Quackity cared about Schlatt- and possibly still does- but i will go over a bit of evidence that i haven’t already mentioned before we move on to the next part

Quackity tried multiple times to impress Schlatt (like when he lied about knowing how to play chess), would attempt to help Schlatt when he was drowning in water, sadly said that they could have had something together while Schlatt was dying in the caravan, and implied that he wouldn’t have left if Schlatt hadn’t taken down the white house. Quackity also willingly went to the Big Man Gym after being summoned there by Schlatt and wanted to revive him long before the revive book became part of the story

part 2: what made it fall apart?

everything i've said so far has been pretty interesting (hopefully) but it doesn't really answer the original question: what went wrong to turn Schlatt and Quackity’s mainly positive partnership sour?

well it comes down to two things in my opinion: their incompatible desires for political power and Schlatt’s deteriorating mental state

Quackity wanted political power from the beginning and wasn't afraid to be open about his desires. he pooled his votes with Schlatt because Schlatt offered him the position of vice president, something Wilbur and Tommy weren’t willing to give to him. tho Quackity obviously cared about L’Manburg and wanted to see good things for it, he also desired power and was willing to team up with someone he didn't fully agree with to get said power

at 32:40 in this video, Quackity talks about how in politics everyone uses everyone so it's alright if Schlatt is using him. he then talks about how he doesn't want to be a man with no power and how he understands that Schlatt’s main goal is also gaining/keeping power. Quackity also shows a bit of his naughty evil side by saying if he overthrows Schlatt then the fun ends too early!

(side note: these two are pretty evenly matched in intelligence and manipulativeness, i love it!)

it's a bit of a fandom misconception that Quackity was a love sick yes man during the Manburg era. tho Quackity did want to please Schlatt and was in love with him, he didn't shy away from standing up to or disagreeing with Schlatt when he believed it was needed

at around 26:12 of this video, Quackity and Schlatt meet together in private and Quackity tells Schlatt off for playing down his role in the power structure of Manburg. since this was very early in Schlatt’s reign, Quackity shows no fear towards him and confidently tells him not to treat him like that

Quackity also broke Niki out of jail after regretting letting her be put there in the first place, tried to convince Schlatt to not execute Tubbo, jumped in front of Fundy when Schlatt tried to attack him, tried to stop Schlatt from tearing down buildings, and attempted to protect the white house he built from being destroyed by Schlatt. these are not behaviors of a pure yes man but of someone who, despite fear, has the confidence to speak up for himself even when disrespected by someone in authority

Quackity has always been someone who wanted power and someone who was never a yes man to authority. this contradicts with how Schlatt believed Quackity should act as vice president. in Schlatt’s opinion, Quackity’s one job is to sit around looking pretty while Schlatt does all of the important things and holds all of the power. Schlatt was a big fan of promoting people to worthless positions of authority and its pretty obvious that he considered vice president to be similar to the fake positions he gave Fundy and Tubbo

in the end, this was a big part of what destroyed their relationship. like it or not, Quackity’s a power hungry guy and always has been. he didn't like that Schlatt constantly shoved him aside and refused to listen to him

now onto the nasty bit...Schlatt’s mental state

cw for mentions of alcoholism, mental deterioration, and abusive behavior

before i say anything more, i just want to say that i don't think having issues with alcoholism makes someone a bad person. i personally have some issues with such things so it would be pretty stupid of me to say being an alcoholic makes you a bad person. alcoholism does negatively affect your cognitive functions tho and, combined with other health issues, can cause some of the very serious mental problems that Schlatt clearly struggles with

throughout the Manburg era, Schlatt’s mental state rapidly deteriorated. he went from a pretty normal- if eccentric- guy who had a drinking problem, to someone who was delirious most of the time. it's a sharp and noticeable decline that caused a lot of pain for Quackity due to Schlatt often taking his excess aggression out on him by yelling at him and/or belittling him. tho Schlatt often belittled Quackity before he went fully off of the deep end, it was never as aggressive as it was when he was in this delirious state of mind

it was during one of Schlatt’s most aggressive and delirious moments that he tore down the white house despite Quackity’s protests. as we all know, this caused Quackity to snap and kill Schlatt (it's more complicated than that but we will get back to that). as mentioned previously, Quackity implied that he would have stayed with Schlatt if the white house hadn’t been destroyed

in my opinion, these two things combined are the biggest reasons why Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship fell apart. their differing desires for power were not compatible and Schlatt’s awful behavior while his mental state declined caused a rift between them that couldn't be fixed

part 3: how toxic was it really?

cw for emotional and physical abuse

as i said all the way back in part one, Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was not healthy. i have provided many examples in the other two parts that shine a light onto why it wasn't healthy, but i didn't show the entire picture

there are many moments that show exactly how Schlatt treated Quackity when he was acting at his worst and none of them are pretty. tho Schlatt was never truly aggressive with his insults until he started to go off of the deep end, that doesn't mean that what he said wasn't negatively affecting Quackity

Schlatt would belittle, insult, and mock Quackity for his appearance not being up to his standards, for his opinions, and for being emotional in ways that Schlatt disapproved of like crying. tho Schlatt would often brush off Quackity’s reactions towards this cruel behavior, it's very clear that Schlatt’s treatment of him has stuck with Quackity in many ways

Quackity is very sensitive about his appearance and it seems to be because of how badly Schlatt hurt his self esteem during their time together. Schlatt tied Quackity’s worth to his appearance and then would claim he wasn't meeting his standards of attractiveness. we can tell that this has stuck with Quackity because of his sensitivity towards people bringing up the scar on his face (something that greatly alters his physical appearance) and he still reacts very badly when Schlatt calls him the mocking nickname flatty patty

speaking of flatty patty- that stupid insult shockingly has a lot of weight in Quackity’s relationship with Schlatt. tho its something the audience is meant to laugh at, the nickname also shows just how little Schlatt respects Quackity because he's constantly throwing it around just to make Quackity upset. Schlatt’s last words are flatty patty all because he wanted to get in one last dig at his ex and ruin Quackity’s day even further

Schlatt tends to do a lot of things that are intended to make Quackity upset. tearing down the room Quackity made for him in the white house is the biggest example of this- especially since Schlatt mentions how it will upset Quackity while he does it. you can see this moment at around 19:10 of this video

and now let's get into the elephant in the room when it comes to these two: Quackity was scared of Schlatt. tho we never really see Schlatt hit or attack Quackity physically outside of their confrontation at the white house or their confrontation in the caravan, these clips imply that Quackity was at the very least scared of Schlatt physically harming him in some way

as for actually physically harming him, Schlatt hits Quackity multiple times with a pickaxe and with his fists during their white house fight. Quackity hits Schlatt a couple times too, tho these are all primarily defensive blows since he is trying to protect himself and his property. he also chases after Quackity with a bow after Quackity’s plan to trick him into signing Manburg over to the Pogtopians fails and hits him multiple times during the caravan confrontation

all of this evidence shows that Schlatt was an abusive (or at least toxic) partner towards Quackity and someone who greatly affected him in many ways

tho Quackity did a few questionable things throughout his relationship with Schlatt (such as trying to get Schlatt to have sex with him despite Schlatt not being interested as shown in the later half of this video) and did some downright morally wrong things during his time as vice president of Manburg, no one deserves the pain of an abusive relationship- even a person who has done bad things

as a brief side note before we move on because i know people will bring it up if i skip over it, Quackity did- and most likely still does- want to literally possess Glatt. he brought up reviving Schlatt and using him as a political pawn after Schlatt’s funeral and during their conversation at the Big Man Gym Quackity talked about owning Glatt and having him work at Las Nevadas with no pay

this is unsettling behavior to say the least but this essay isnt about the aftermath of their relationship so much as it is about their relationship when it was actually happening. maybe i will make another post talking more about how Quackity’s relationship with Schlatt affected him even after Schlatt’s death and/or about Quackity’s relationship with Glatt

part 4: final thoughts

i’m not exactly sure why the nuances in Schlatt and Quackity’s relationship get lost when it comes to the fandom, but it’s pretty disappointing to see. hopefully this essay can help people take a closer look at canon and maybe even help them find something interesting that they’d want to explore!

tho the point of this essay is to clear up any misconceptions and hopefully add some nuance to the conversations surrounding Schlatt and Quackity’s relationship, i also wrote it in hopes of showing people how fascinating these two partners in crime were back in the Manburg days. i didn’t cover everything but i think i did a pretty good job for my first analysis post in the dsmp fandom

also since you read to the end, i must say thank you! it really does means a lot to me that you did. i hope you enjoyed and maybe even learned something. this post can be used as a resource if anyone wants to use it as such

here’s a tiny devil Quackity for your troubles <3

#quackity #jschlatt #manburg #dream smp analysis #dsmp analysis #posts by me #this was really fun to make!! i worry it wont show up in tags tho bc of how many links there are in it #so pls reblog!! if you read it and liked it that is haha #meta by me

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allieebobo · 2 years ago

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hi again!! so i was wondering - how would sam, rayyan and tobin cope with federer’s retirement???

Nikka!!! Sorry for taking a gabiillion years on this <3 Hehe, hopefully I’ve taken long enough that this is no longer an open wound :P

It was a tough one! Treat this as my own headcanon, but I can imagine a thousand different reactions that I didn't come up with!

Sam:

Would go into a tailspin of consuming every single piece of media they could possibly consume regarding Federer, including the (many) Federer-related books, videos, reddit threads etc. etc.

They'd probably force MC to sit down and watch a compilation of Federer's best shots, best interviews, geeking out about old stats e.g. gushing about how his play has evolved over the years and so on.

Not to mention all the Fedal content, and... say wistfully to MC, "I'd love to play a doubles match with you one day."

Honestly, Sam might even post some compilation video of their own, and get semi youtube/tiktok famous from it.

Rayyan

Rayyan is not a sentimental person - well, to be more precise, they do watch hours of videos of their favorite players, analysing their swing etc. but they're not really the sort to OBSESS over individual players as... people. Not to mention, they've always been more of a Nadal fan... (they'll probably shed a few tears when that GOAT retires).

BUT, that said, their dad is and has always been obsessed with Federer, and although he does not play much tennis these days, he used to play a mean game back in the day, and was how Rayyan had picked up the sport in the first place. So, Federer had been very much a staple in the house growing up.

Rayyan feels an indescribable sense of loss now that Federer has retired; to them, it functions more as a marker of the passage of time, and reminds them of childhood, times spent with their dad.

Tobin

Tobin takes the retirement the hardest, and... almost personally. It breaks them a little bit - especially because Federer had been their inspiration growing up (along with Serena and Venus Williams).

Tobin's style is very similar to Federer's, but their temperaments are similar, too. Both very much make tennis look graceful, magical, even when it's not. They've adopted a similar commitment to the mantra of "grace under pressure", and always behaving with composure and dignity.

All this to say that Tobin feels almost like a piece of them has been buried along with Federer's retirement. They'll talk to MC about it, if they're close, and also to their parents - and then, in typical Tobin-esque fashion, they'll try to use it to spur themselves forward, more determined than ever to come into their own as a player and as a person.

As one of the other tumblr asks had mentioned: it's Tobin's era now!

#CT:OS #college tennis: origin story #if #asks #interactive fiction #sam #rayyan #tobin #federer retirement

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missgeniality · 4 years ago

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A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this! This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy!

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods.

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning.

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold.

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity.

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully.

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.”

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?”

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation.

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?”

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious.

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well.

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight?

BTS is on your flight?

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography.

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger.

BTS who?

Biggest boyband who?

You only listen to Frank Sinatra.

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally.

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours.

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help.

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved.

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could.

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back.

Aw, you are in trouble.

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face.

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true.

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth.

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you.

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you.

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to.

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all.

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile.

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously.

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean.

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.”

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..”

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in.

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb.

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.”

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told.

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep.

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began.

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you.

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you.

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you.

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family.

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen.

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request.

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement.

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.”

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck.

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart.

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him.

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon.

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.”

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence.

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car.

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you.

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that.

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of.

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far.

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode.

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma.

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this.

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong.

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do.

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall.

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!"

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!”

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor.

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,�� your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so.

But you’re not anyone else.

He isn’t just anyone.

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two.

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours.

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century.

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind.

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours.

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation.

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end.

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark.

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.”

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible.

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken.

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him.

The elevator door opens, and people walk out.

But that’s not where your attention is.

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm.

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad.

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present.

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.”

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile.

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too.

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space.

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!”

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed.

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again.

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.”

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”.

The punctuation was not vocalized.

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself.

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there?

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna.

So far, no sign of him.

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far.

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode.

And then you hear it.

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but.

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck.

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight.

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight.

“Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement.

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is.

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart.

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.”

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first.

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own.

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes. “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.”

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter.

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?”

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight.

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger.

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware.

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer.

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue.

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch.

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates.

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?”

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air.

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative.

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?”

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress.

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured.

“On your knees.” he commands.

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.”

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on.

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm.

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head.

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise.

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly.

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him.

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.”

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over.

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench.

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening.

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod.

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum.

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you.

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him.

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss.

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair.

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt.

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room.

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom.

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you.

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention.

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought.

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret.

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch.

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth.

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way.

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face.

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs.

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem.

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-”

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him.

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason.

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard.

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him.

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making.

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls.

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat.

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it.

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response.

“Go on baby, ride me.”

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better.

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!”

“That’s fucking right, only me.”

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away.

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve.

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full.

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high.

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face.

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!”

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.”

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way.

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole.

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs.

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core.

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours.

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.”

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon.

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart.

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.”

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness.

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy.

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance.

He finds none.

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go.

You inch closer.

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his.

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win.

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words.

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst.

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it.

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows. You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him.

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far.

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up.

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement.

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

2K notes · View notes

yslkook · 4 years ago

Text

TiO (8)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook is a man of mystery and you take him on a date.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, a shitty relationship, unprotected sex (pls use protection, these two are being foolish) , some choking, grinding, making out, oral

word count: ~6.3k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. a big thank you to @cutechim for creating the texts for me lmao<33

***

Jungkook remains tight-lipped about what it was he had done over the weekend, when he had gone with Jin and Mina to a tattoo convention a few hours away. They had ended up staying the night there, and while Jungkook wanted to ask you to come with him, he wondered if it was too soon to ask. After all, you were both still enjoying each other’s company at your own sweet pace.

Eventually his little secret gets put on the back burner for the rest of the week. You were supposed to get bubble tea with him on Tuesday, but unfortunately a last minute work issue with your client and your application came up. You’d ended up working late, your eyes screaming in fatigue and went straight to bed that evening. He had understood, of course he did.

On Thursday, he was supposed to grab lunch with you at a cafe that he thought you might like, but this time it was him who had a conflict. His older sister had showed up to the tattoo parlor without any prior notice. She does this every so often, when things aren’t going well with her on again, off again shitty “boyfriend”.

Jungkook had sighed, cancelling on lunch with you to spend time with Jooyeon and comfort her with fried chicken and ice cream. You had sent an understanding thumbs up and a promise to call him later and end up having lunch with your work wife, Kira instead.

Kira who doesn’t fail to point out the glow in your cheeks and your general aura, even though it’s been nearly a week and a half since you saw Jungkook last. You roll your eyes and ignore the flames in your cheeks (and her laughter), and change the subject to your work projects. She tells you about some of the coding issues and compliance issues she’s been having with her software, and you tell her about the hours you’ve been pouring into your application for your client.

It doesn’t bother you that Jungkook hadn’t asked if you wanted to meet his sister. After all, he’d told you bits and pieces about her and her relationship. And in the last few weeks, your relationship has blossomed so beautifully. There was no reason to rush, you think. You’ll meet her hopefully under better circumstances for her.

Jungkook spends most of the evening with Jooyeon, letting her cry herself to sleep in his bed. His sister hardly ever cries like this, with sobs full of pain and hurt because of another man. But it’s been happening too much lately, too many fights and too much of Joo losing herself. It makes Jungkook see red more often than not. He knows what you’d say- that she needs him more than anything else and to not be so impulsive.

He makes sure Joo eats a warm meal before she falls asleep and he shoots you a text:

Jungkook: baby

You: hi

You: everything ok?

Jungkook: no, joo’s bf is a fkin asshole

Jungkook: she’s sleeping

Jungkook: miss u

You: im sorry baby :( can i call you?

He jumps at the chance, the sound of your voice and sight of your pretty face on video call instantly calming him. Jungkook is sure to wear a beanie to hide his surprise for you (but you don’t question it. After all, you’ve seen him in beanies plenty of times before and it’s dim in the apartment.) He moves to the couch, asking softly for you to tell him about your day. You recount every single detail from memory, shifting under your covers to tell him about how you had nearly stumbled down the stairs in front of your manager’s manager because you had missed a step.

It pulls a soft laugh from him.

“Jungkook,” You say quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Jungkook sighs, “She’s just… Byung-woo and her have had this on and off thing for years now. He won’t commit to her and she just refuses to see him for what he is. Like, when it’s good, it’s really good. But when it’s bad, it’s awful. I wish she’d fucking see it for herself. I don’t know what to do anymore, baby.”

“Oh, baby,” You murmur, wishing you could hug him, “All you can do is be there for her but be honest with her. She’ll come around soon, hopefully. It’s hard to see past a shitty person sometimes, when all you want is for them to love you.”

“I hope so, too,” Jungkook says, “She’d love you, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Don’t get a big head,” Jungkook chuckles, “Maybe you can meet her someday. Under better circumstances, I mean.”

“Really? You want me to meet your older sister?” You ask softly, feeling a little flustered, “That’s serious.”

“I told you, baby,” Jungkook soothes, “I’m serious about you.”

“Yeah. Seriously crazy about me,” You giggle to yourself. You know if Jungkook was with you, he’d flick your forehead.

“It’s true,” He murmurs, “Maybe I can see you this weekend?”

“Yeah, you still have to show me what you did over the weekend! Take care of Jooyeon first,” You reply, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll drop stuff off, just tell me.”

“I will,” Jungkook promises, “Sleep well, I miss you.”

“Sleep well. I miss you.”

***

Jooyeon ends up leaving on Saturday morning after a lecture from Jungkook and with determined resolve in her eyes. You jump at the chance to take him out tonight, knowing how stressed he’s been the last few days.

You: be ready at 6:30 tn, im taking u out. and dress slutty

Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret your text when he reads it. He considers asking Mina and Mei what this means, but ultimately leaves it alone. Replying to your message with a quick thumbs up, he busies himself with getting ready to see you (and surprising you, finally after a full week of wanting to show you what he had done.)

Once you parallel park your car (which takes far too long than you’d like to admit), you grab the small bouquet of purple roses that you had gotten for Jungkook and text him saying that you’ll be up in a few minutes.

Taehyung had caught you struggling to parallel park, and had told Jungkook with a snicker. Which earned him a punch to the arm.

There wasn’t a particular reason that you had chosen to get purple roses for him, other than the fact that they reminded you of him. You hope he likes them.

Jungkook hears a soft knock at the door, and can already envision you behind it. He hopes you like his surprise, the one he’s been teasing you for a week about. You had given no hints of what you would be wearing- you had only sent him one selfie that didn’t give much of a hint into your outfit. He has no doubt that you’ll look gorgeous, but still.

Maybe Jungkook’s nerves shouldn’t be this intense, but he can’t help it. He swings the front door open, only to be greeted by you swaying on your feet with your hands held behind your back. His heart throbs when you pull your hands apart and present him with a beautiful bouquet of purple roses.

How ironic.

“Hello,” You say with a small smile, suddenly feeling a little shy and gasping when your eyes land on his hair, “Wow. You weren’t kidding…”

His hair is tied back into a ponytail, but it’s unmistakably elegant and so violet. Two neat pieces of his newly dyed hair fall into his face effortlessly, but then your gaze reaches the piercing on his left eyebrow. Your lips remain parted in surprise and without thinking, you reach up to touch his hair. It’s still soft, as it always is.

“Come in, baby,” Jungkook says, taking the roses from you, “You must really like me, huh? Got me flowers and everything?”

“Shut up,” You mutter, cheeks heating up, “Don’t get a big head.”

Jungkook only grins wolfishly at you and winks at you, eyes unashamedly glued to your ass. You roll your eyes, and swat his shoulder as you watch him put the rose in a vase and place it in the center of the dining table.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in his shared apartment (that he lives with Taehyung and Jimin in) but you somehow feel shy in his presence again, as if it was the first time. The first time you had been here with him had been the first time you had spent the night at his apartment several weeks ago, after a night out with your friends.

You let your gaze wander, curious eyes settling on the subtle matching of the furniture and the cleanliness of the apartment. There’s not a stray speck of dust in sight, but maybe you’re distracting yourself from addressing the pretty purple of his hair. Your mouth is dry, and you’re probably drooling a little. You wonder if Jungkook prepared for this, the same way you did (in that you had washed your car, cleaned every inch of it and gotten a new car freshener).

A faint scent of fresh laundry and lavender sits in the spaces of his home. It calms you and gives you the boost to turn your eyes to him.

“Thanks for the roses, baby,” Jungkook says, giving you a smile and starry eyes. He pulls you into his arms, your back against the counter. “Surprise. Do you like it?”

“Uh,” You mumble, brain deciding to short-circuit with the way he looks at you. His smile turns into a smirk, deciding to further render you speechless by pressing himself closer to you and cradling your neck. He’s careful not to touch your face. He doesn’t want to mess your makeup up terribly, at least not yet.

“I know you like my hair. Your face says it all, baby,” Jungkook continues and ducks his head for a quick kiss, “You’re pretty.” He does quite like this dress, light blue and dotted in small flowers with thin straps. His eyes are instantly drawn to the drawstring at the center of your chest and he quells the urge to pull at it.

Jungkook’s mouth waters when he sees the side split of the dress but you want more from him immediately, but he pulls away to your chagrin. Even with the simple kiss, the burgundy color of your lipstick stains his plump bottom lip.

You shiver. It appears that he tried to take your words via text to heart- to dress slutty. He’s wearing a loose animal print button up, with the top three buttons undone. It gives you a delectable view of his pecs, his collarbones and a hint of the tattoo on his right side. As if you weren’t already weak in the knees for him as it was, he wears a black coat and tight, leather pants.

Jungkook pulls it off, like he pulls everything off and the purple hair blends seamlessly with his look. Tonight, he’d opted for two silver hoops in each ear and a thin silver necklace to match.

Your knees are weak, they’ve been weak since you had seen him in this offensive outfit and his hair, his new piercing that was clearly an attack on your entire existence.

The purple hair. The piercing. He’ll be the death of you tonight, you know it. Your legs are wobbly, panties already probably a little wet just from seeing him and from a few of his kisses. But you can’t help it. Without thinking, you press your lips to his, drawing your tongue into his mouth eagerly. You are so hungry, so eager to devour him and drink up anything that he offers you. Jungkook tugs you closer to him lightly by your waist but-

“Seriously? Right in front of my dinner?” Comes an amused voice from behind Jungkook and you nearly screech at the familiar sound of Jimin’s voice.

“I- I didn’t-You-” You stammer, feeling your face heat up to a degree that it’s definitely never heated up to before. You hide behind Jungkook to fix your surely wrecked lipstick. You’re certain his own lips are probably comically smudged with your lipstick as well. “Sorry Jimin, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know, we’ll leave-”

Jungkook only rolls his eyes at Jimin’s wide smirk and knowing eyes. He hears you scolding Jungkook for not telling him that anyone was home, to which he promptly responds “well, you didn’t ask!”

Despite the very natural and easy flow of conversation between you and Jungkook in your car, you still feel overheated and jumpy, your fingers incessantly tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not Jungkook, it’s you and your own nerves. It’s not the first time you’ve gone out to dinner with him and it’s certainly not the first time you’ve had him in your car. If Jungkook notices, he says nothing.

“Where are we going, baby?” Jungkook asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to focus on the road despite being at a red light.

“Umm, that place you mentioned the other day. The one we talked about trying together,” You say softly. Jungkook can only wonder why you’re a little quiet, but he thinks he knows. You slip into your head so easily and he doesn’t mind gently tugging you out of your thought cloud and into reality with him.

“Can you help me park,” You mumble sheepishly, “I get nervous parking in such tight spaces.”

“Yeah, pull over here before it’s impossible to,” Jungkook murmurs. You nod and do so, hopping out of the driver’s seat to switch places with him. But before you can get in the passenger’s seat, Jungkook grips your wrist loosely. You look at him curiously, with wide eyes and he drops a kiss to your lips, swallowing your surprise.

“You’re so pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, “So fucking pretty, baby. I love this dress on you.” You preen at his praise, leaning forward for another kiss with a shy smile. He subtly squeezes your left tit before letting his hand travel downward.

“You look really good, Jungkook,” You murmur before he kisses you, “I-I really, really like it. A lot.”

He gently caresses your thigh from under your dress, the heat of his hand shooting straight up your core. Jungkook slips his tongue into your mouth quickly, coaxing your endearing nervousness away. As if you both aren’t pulled over to the side of the street where cars are passing you by (and surely wondering why you both were making out like this in public).

“Are we gonna be those people who have a roadside quickie,” You laugh, gently pushing his shoulder when you pull away.

“Roadside quickie? Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jungkook says but his lips twist into a wicked smirk, “But hey, if you wanna give me road head, I’m not going to complain about it-”

“Ha, you would be so lucky,” You scoff, feeling your nerves beginning to ease out of you, “C’mon, our reservation is soon. And then we can talk about road head.”

Dinner goes perfectly and after a glass of wine you feel those inexplicable nerves wash away. What did you have to be nervous for anyway? It was Jungkook- Jungkook who you’ve known for years. Your friend before any of this. He asks you about work, how your application is going-

“Your client sounds pretty demanding,” Jungkook muses, “You keeping up with it okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m not even an application engineer so I’m just learning as I go. My true roots are data and data science but I get to see all of it. Which is cool. But also time consuming, like the other evening, I had to read up on the compliance regulations. But my favorite thing is creating modeling and programs for this app, it’s really cool because it’s healthcare specific. So I’m learning about that sector as well, it’s mostly python but we’ve been doing testing with different healthcare providers in the area and they’re all responding really well to it-” You’re rambling, you know it, but your passion for your career knows no bounds and Jungkook makes no move to stop you. He only smiles at you, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching, gesturing for you to continue.

It’s funny. Not even a few months ago, you would have cut yourself off from your own rambling. In an attempt to convince yourself that the other person didn’t need to hear about it. Maybe that was Sora’s subconscious influence on you. Today, you don’t think twice about it, glowing and shimmering under the dim, blue lights of the restaurant as you tell Jungkook more about your job.

He makes your heart race and he’s sitting right in front of you. Your chin is in your hands as you listen to the pretty words slipping out of his lips. He’s so dreamy, and you struggle to not let your gaze stray from his eyes and linger on his exposed tattoos and chest. You don’t even know where to look, deciding to settle on the way his newly purple locks fall to his forehead just perfectly.

“What do you wanna eat for dessert?” You murmur, looking at the menu and cautiously allowing your foot to brush against his.

In hindsight, you should’ve seen it coming-

“You,” Jungkook says easily, as if he’s talking about the weather.

“Corny,” You roll your eyes, but nudge his foot again. You end up deciding on sharing a slice of decadent, chocolate mousse cake. Which Jungkook ends up finishing off when you satisfy your sweet tooth after a few big bites.

He leans over without a second thought, thumbing away stray cream from the corner of your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick the tip of his thumb and he looks at you with wide eyes before grinning roguishly.

“Wanna get outta here, baby?”

“Should I take you home, Jungkook?” You ask, finding the courage somewhere in the remnants of the glass of wine currently evaporating from your system to take his hand in your lap once you’re both settled in your car.

“Do you want to take me home?” Jungkook asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“I have some wine I think you’d like at my place. I just got it,” You say a little breathlessly, “And I have to inspect something, I might need your help.” Jungkook laughs, a little derisively and you pout.

“You don’t have to bribe me with wine, baby. You know I would’ve been down regardless,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hand, “What do you need to inspect? Do you have a leak or something?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a leak alright,” You say under your breath, thinking about the growing wetness in your panties, “My man just showed up here with purple hair and an eyebrow piercing, looking like a damn model after one whole week. I have to inspect him.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, I would love to be your lab rat. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen the inside of your bedroom before-”

“Who said you’d get that far?”

“I already did, baby. Did you forget?” Jungkook’s smirk widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. He gently cups your face, thumb on your chin and hovers just over your lips. You think he’s about to kiss you, so you close your eyes in anticipation of his lips on yours.

But it never comes. Instead, his breath fans over your cheeks and he lets out a low laugh. “I sure didn’t forget, and I know you didn’t either.”

You roll your eyes and swat his hand away, ignoring (but letting out a smile) when he chuckles. You decide to hold his hand for as much of the drive back home you can.

Jungkook’s hands are on your hips even as you’re fumbling with the keys to your front door. He’s a distraction, his warm heat plastered against your back and the simple act of opening your damn door feels like too much of a chore. When Jungkook’s lips glaze over the back of your neck, his fingers roaming your waist, it’s difficult for you to focus.

So Jungkook scoffs and turns the key for you. “Can’t open the door, baby?” Jungkook taunts and you level him with a glare.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself in front of my door!”

“You like it,” Jungkook says, shutting the door behind him and hugging you as you try to walk away from him to wash up. You escape his grip with a giggle and lock yourself in your bathroom, while Jungkook waits with a disgruntled pout.

When you come out, you head into the kitchen to pour out two glasses of wine and bring some snacks out. You’re not particularly hungry, though you wouldn’t mind eating and you’re sure Jungkook wouldn’t mind either.

Your train of thought is of course interrupted by the man himself and he wraps his arms around you from behind, pushing you into the counter. One might say that Jungkook is being clingy, but you know this is how he shows his affections. Through physical touch more than anything else. And you quite like it, you like the reassurance of his body close to yours. It’s what you’ve always wanted and never known that you needed.

“Missed you,” He breathes into your hair. Even if he’s been with you for the last few hours… You understand him. It feels like you’re both making up for lost time. For time that you could’ve spent together, rather than apart.

“Me too,” You murmur, “Can you take this to the couch, honey? I’ll bring the glasses and the wine.”

Jungkook hums and kisses your temple, squeezing your ass before heeding your soft demand. You sit next to him, thighs touching, and pour out a glass for both of you to enjoy. You lean against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his bicep and turn the television on. But neither of you are really paying attention.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs, “I had a good time tonight, baby.”

“Don’t I know it,” You say smugly, “It’s not everyday a pretty girl takes you out for din-” He cuts your words off by pulling you into his lap, somehow not spilling even a single drop of wine in the movement. You would’ve killed him if even a hint of a wine stain appeared on your velvet couch.

You press your hand into his shoulder, the hint of his tattoo and the glint of his piercing catching your eye. You swirl your glass of wine with your other hand. “What a precarious position to be in,” You say dryly, even grinding your hips into his playfully. He gives you a look, and stills your movements with one hand on your waist. Jungkook sets his glass on the coffee table behind you and cradles your neck, pulling you down for a sharp kiss. It’s almost desperate and needy, nothing like his kisses from before.

You slip your tongue into his honeyed mouth, tasting seeds of his desperation with your tongue. But then, you remember your wine glass and pull away from his lips with a lewd smack to reach behind you and place it on the coffee table as well.

“So pretty,” Jungkook moans, pushing the straps of your dress to the side and dotting your shoulders in wine-stained kisses, “Pretty girl, my pretty baby-”

You tilt his cheek towards you for a kiss, whining into his mouth at his praise. It shoots down your spine in a delicious hum and his hands roaming the expanse of your back makes you feel warm and powerful.

The way your hips move in time with his, the way you fit into the crevices of his thighs and his chest- he just wants to give you everything. He wants to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Jungkook will give you everything, if you let him.

“And what about you?” You rasp with swollen lips and wild eyes when you finally pull away. You press your fingers into the exposed, inky part of his chest, where his shirt is unbuttoned for your eyes. “You look so fucking good all the time, but-but I told you to dress slutty and you did this for me, huh? You did this for me, bunny?”

Jungkook’s cock jumps in his tight pants and his throat goes dry. Your eyes are devious, filled with mischief and sin and he gives himself to you fully and wholly.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods eagerly, “Yeah, I wanted to look nice for you, baby.”

“A-and your hair,” You mumble, feeling a little lovesick, “I love it, I love it, I love it-I just wanna- wanna make you feel good. Can I do that, bunny? Make you feel good?”

Jungkook nods with wide, doe eyes, wondering how the tables were turned so quickly.

“Take me to my bedroom,” You demand softly. The glasses of wine and snacks on the tray are left forgotten as Jungkook easily scoops you up in his arms. Even with your lips soft and slow against his neck, he somehow makes it to your bed.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve had Jungkook in your bed (or that you’ve been in his bed). It’s not the first time you’ve peeled his shirt off meticulously and licked your way down his chest, to unbutton his tight pants. It’s not the first time he’s seen you on your knees on your bed (to alleviate the strain on your knees if you were on the floor).

By now, the shock of your impatience has worn off. Jungkook frequently reminds you to slow down, that you both have nowhere to be except with each other.

It looks like his pants are glued to his legs, and while you can appreciate the visual, you want to appreciate the real thing. You groan in frustration and Jungkook does the work for you, pushing the offending fabric away and breathing a sigh of relief. You crawl closer to him, nails featherlight against his taut thighs.

He’s golden, his body taut and spilling with swirls of color in the divots of his muscles. Your mouth waters.

But Jungkook moves your hands away when you start inching closer, wanting to palm his cock. He joins you on the bed, pushing your back to the bed and hiking the skirt of your dress up to your hips. His hands are tight and warm and welcome on your hips, a flare of desire shooting down your spine and straight to your pussy. You buck your hips up towards him with a pout but he only squeezes.

“What did I tell you,” Jungkook murmurs, swatting your thigh lightly.

“You’ll have to remind me,” You breathe.

“Told you to slow down, baby,” Jungkook says, letting his fingers trail up your thighs and slip under your panties. His hand is warm in contrast to the rings on his fingers. They do little to cool your skin, though. “Impatient girl.”

“You say that like a bad thing-”

“And you talk so fucking much,” Jungkook drawls, hovering over you and dropping his weight on top of you, nudging your cheek to kiss you. You reach upwards to thread your hands through his hair but he’s quick, so much quicker than you. Jungkook pins your wrists with just one hand, and the mere action, the mere display of strength has you sighing and your pussy fluttering.

“Lift your hips,” Jungkook says thickly, and you do so immediately. It’s easy for him to pull your black lace panties off to the side. But before he does so he gives you a small smile of approval, knowing that you wore them specifically for him to see.

“I really do love this dress, baby,” He says, “Makes your tits and your ass look amazing.”

“Take it off, then. And see the goods up close,” You say, wiggling against his grip.

“I will,” Jungkook says lazily, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” Without a single warning, he lifts you up easily into his lap. Your bare pussy brushes against his bare cock deliciously, your hips moving of their own accord. He stills you again, and carefully unzips your dress and pulls it off of you. His fingers on you are soft but firm, leaving your head spinning and hazy.

You haven’t even had his cock yet, and you’re about ready to combust. Jungkook pushes you on the bed, your tits bouncing with the force of your back hitting the mattress and hovers over you. You pull at his hair a little impatiently and he groans, the sound reverberating across the walls only to ring in your head. You want to hear it again, and again and again.

“Jungkook,” You whine, “Please, bunny, do something. Look at me, look at my pussy, come clean me up-”

“So needy,” Jungkook murmurs and ignores you in favor of kissing your tits, rubbing your nipples with his fingers, “‘M needy for you too, baby.”

“You’re so hard, so big,” You babble, “Please, want your cock, baby.”

Impatient. Jungkook kisses your chest, your belly, your hips and makes you cum on his tongue twice (while you tear up and cry a little bit, gripping his purple locks fiercely and holding onto his shoulder) before letting you stroke his cock. You’re about to push him on his back to blow him with determined eyes, but he stops you.

It appears he’s impatient too, and he wants to see you cream his cock before cumming all over your tits (which has become his favorite place to).

“Jungkook,” You breathe sharply, “There, baby, right there-” You cut yourself off with a groan, stilling your hips and pushing his face into your chest. Jungkook’s groans are muffled against your tits, but you feel the wetness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue over your nipples.

“Shit,” You mumble, “Feels so good-”

“So pretty, baby,” Jungkook coos, pulling away from your tits to look up at you with lust in his eyes, “I’m yours, all yours-”

You groan, bouncing on his cock even harder as a flare of possessiveness flashes across your belly. “Move back,” You say softly, “Lay down. I’m gonna ride you so good, baby.”

Jungkook barely has a chance to catch his breath before your nails are on his chest, trying to hold yourself steady as you push yourself down onto his cock, pulling a deep moan of your name from his lips. His hands are tight on your hips, watching with wide eyes- he doesn’t know where to look, what to do.

He squeezes when one of your hands drifts over his and rests on top of his hand.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” Jungkook mumbles, “Whatever you want baby, I’m yours-”

“You talk so much,” You say hoarsely, with a wicked smile, “It’s cute.” Your free hand floats upward, resting loosely at the base of his neck. His chain is cold against his heated skin but all he can focus on is the glide of your hand over his neck.

His cock twitches inside you and your smile widens. “Is this okay?” You whisper, “This okay, bunny?”

“Harder,” Jungkook groans, “Fuck, harder, baby.”

“Like this?” You ask innocently, closing your hand around the sensitive spots of his neck. His pretty eyes flutter as he nods, a quiet moan slipping out into the air.

“You’re pretty like this,” You say softly, “Shit, you’re pretty like this…”

He lets out a choked laugh at that. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his hastily. Jungkook thrusts upward, hips meeting your ass but your hand doesn’t leave his neck. Not just yet. You breathe into his mouth, allowing him to swallow your soft whimpers.

You wet your lips with a loud smack and cradle his cheek gently. Jungkook is mesmerized by the heat in your eyes, smoldering and burning through his skin. You let your fingers glide over your clit, gathering wetness and before Jungkook can ask what you're doing-

“Open,” You mumble hoarsely, “Open, bunny.”

Pushing a finger past his chapped lips, you gasp at the sight of him below you with your fingers in his mouth.

You could cum just from watching him. His tongue swirls over your finger before sucking lightly with a pretty flush covering his cheeks. Your eyes widen, another gasp brushing over his cheeks.

“Fuck,” You mumble dreamily, “You’re so good, bunny.”

Your body is burning, jaw slack and the feeling of Jungkook’s bare cock inside of you almost too much to handle. It was wildly irresponsible- he wasn’t wearing a condom and you weren’t on birth control, and it was a conversation for later. But you can’t think, not when it feels this good, not when you’ve had a taste of his cock in this way. Besides, he always pulls out just in time. But still, you both should know better.

“Oh, Jungkook,” You whine, “‘m close, I’m so fucking close, make me cum, bunny-”

“Baby,” Jungkook rasps, “My pretty baby looks so good on my cock like this. My smart, kind, b-beautiful girl, my angel-”

Tears prick your eyes- it’s easy for you to become overwhelmed like this. You tug your hands away and thread your fingers through his, dipping your head for a kiss.

“You like that, angel? You like being mine?” Jungkook murmurs, slowing your hips so he can take over. But he knows you’re close.

“Only yours,” You mumble. Jungkook pulls you into his chest swiftly and flips you so that you’re on your back. He places your legs over his shoulders and brackets your head with his forearms, his necklace just above your nose and his hair tickling your face. But you're mesmerized by the determination and adoration in his eyes.

“Jungkook,” You murmur brokenly, “O-oh, y-yeah, baby, there, mmmf-” You squeeze his biceps with a gasp, watching his face closely. Pushing his hair behind his ears, you cradle his cheek and pull him down for a sweet, long kiss.

His fingers dance across your thighs and rub your clit in slow circles and murmuring soft words of praise in your ear. You’re vaguely aware that your body erupts in a tidal wave of flames, warming you from inside out. You don’t hear anything except for your cries of his name, you don’t see anything but him through your blurry eyes.

“Baby,” Jungkook says through clenched teeth, “O-open your mouth, baby. Fuck, baby, this pussy- I’m gonna cum, baby, fuck-”

You open your mouth with hooded eyes and your tongue lolling out and Jungkook pulls out of you abruptly with a series of curses. He’s not fast enough to get all of his cum in your mouth, some of it landing on your cheek. You swallow his cum with a dopey smile and open your arms for him to bury his face in your tits.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook says breathlessly, rolling off of you and pulling you into his side, “This pussy’s gonna be the death of me. Where’d you learn to ride dick like that, huh?”

“I’ll never tell,” You mumble, “Gimme a kiss.”

And so he does, tasting himself on your lips. He kisses you nice and slow, just how you both like after a night like this. Eventually he cleans you up and you do the same for him.

Under the covers with only the shared warmth between your sheets to keep you company, you rest your head on Jungkook’s bicep and look up at him. Your fingers continue tracing patterns on his chest, tracing the swirls and curves of ink as they appear.

Jungkook dips his head to nudge your nose and you softly laugh as his hair falls into your face. “What are you thinking about, baby?” He murmurs, lazily draping an arm over you. By now, you’ve realized that Jungkook is possibly the most vulnerable with you in moments like this. When you’re both bare and basking in a post-sex haze.

That’s not to say that he’s not vulnerable at other times. But it’s just different like this.

You take his hand and thread your fingers through his. His fingers are bare, as you had taken his rings off and they’re currently sitting in your jewelry dish on your dresser.

“We just,” You murmur, “We spent so long being apart. When we should’ve been together. All because I…”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly but gently, “Don’t do that. You’re where you’re supposed to be. We’re where we’re supposed to be.”

“But we wasted so much time not being together because of me,” You mumble forlornly, feeling your throat getting a little dry, “Because I listened to Sora and didn’t-”

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook says, pulling you in for a hug and a forehead kiss, “That’s not true at all. We’re together now, and we both had some growing to do. That’s what matters.”

“Okay,” You reply in a strained voice. You don’t quite sound like you believe him, and Jungkook makes a mental note of that. “Do you feel like… we have lost time to make up for?”

“Do you feel like that?” Jungkook counters, making your heart skip a beat, “Because I don’t. I know it’s hard, baby, but you can’t beat yourself up for that. It’s in the past, baby. Forgive yourself. There’s nothing to race against, it’s just me and you.”

“I’ll try,” You say a little meekly. Jungkook nods and pulls you in for a soft kiss, one that has your toes curling and your belly flipping. He shifts so that you’re tucked into his side, surrounded by him and his hands on your skin. He kisses you until your previous thoughts don’t feel so loud in your head, he whispers to you and pulls sweet laughs from your throat until you can detach from the strange cloud that had suddenly appeared.

He’s your safe place.

*********

MoM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ULTRAANONYMOUSEY @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

#Jungkook x reader #Jungkook smut #Jeon jungkook x reader #Jeon jungkook smut #Jungkook x you #Jeon jungkook x you #Jungkook fluff

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lfcthelovesofmylife · 2 years ago

Text

what i think of some of the liverpool squad

Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain -

Extremely underrated. Hasn’t been the same since his injury. He seems to be plagued with injuries. Wouldn’t be surprised if he left at the end of this season, feel very bad for him sitting on the bench all the time. At this point I’ve been thinking he’s done something to make Kloppo absolutely hate him because he never plays. Would also just like to thank him for making Perrie Edwards a MILF and a Liverpool fan x

Joe Gomez-

Funny guy, wish he played more often but unfortunately he is simply not up to the standard at this current time. Was absolutely devastated that he came off injured against Southampton, he’s always been so unlucky with injuries. I’d give him my knee but that would probably be worse for him. I think I have joint issues. Love him in the media day videos. Solid dude.

Virgil Van Dijk -

What a beast. Absolutely love the guy. Don’t understand how you couldn’t like him. Arguably one of the best defenders in the world. I admire his love for Joel - that’s what you call commitment. Also a really funny guy in the media day videos.

Kostas Tsimikas -

Kostas. Where do I start? I could write a whole letter for him. I have never loved a player in the way I love him. The way he's so dedicated to the team makes me so emotional sometimes. I would want nothing more than to give him a hug. he deserve the world and more. So underappreciated yet so bloody good. he's our Greek Scouser.. Sorry I mean Scouser Greek. I never want him to leave. Ever.

Ibrahima Konate -

I don’t know all that much about him, but I do know he’s incredible. I would be terrified if I had to come up against him on the pitch. I think I’d surrender then and there. He seems like a really nice guy and I’d love to be mates with him but I’m scared I’d annoy him too much.

Naby Keita -

I can’t lie, I actually stress way too much when he plays. I don’t know why, he’s a good player. Seems like a really sweet guy. I can tell his smile really brightens up the room. Seems like a ray of sunshine. What a guy.

Caoimhin Kelleher -

Literally my favourite number 2 goalkeeper in the business. That pen against Chelsea in the Carabao Cup final? Beautiful if you ask me. Seems like a really chilled, quiet guy. I can already tell I’d wind him up if I spent too long with him but he’d never outright tell me to go away.

Thiago Alcantara -

Absolute midfield maestro. Incredible at what he does. Living legend. His friendship with Kostas is something I would only ever be able to dream about having with someone. Love the guy. One of our best signings if you ask me. He’s absolutely transformed the midfield and I wouldn’t change a single thing about him.

Luis Diaz -

Again, what a player. Something about our recent signings honestly. I don’t know what else I can say except that he’s absolutely incredible. The footwork. The pace. The skill. Never leave us. I love you my guy.

Andy Robertson -

What a little shitstirrer. Absolutely loved by the Liverpool fans, hated by everyone else. But you know it wouldn’t work any other way. My favourite scotsman. To this day I’m still kept up in the middle of the night wondering if pigeons have thoughts. I would no doubt be best friends with him. I wonder if he likes haggis.

Takumi Minamino -

Played less games than Jack Grealish has at City yet still has more goals than him. Our best finisher and our saviour on more than one occasion. Seems like the most humble guy and I really hope he doesn’t leave us anytime soon. I want to give him a box of chocolates and thank him for the service he’s done for our club.

Joel Matip -

His giraffe runs are nothing short of iconic. The way that he so gracefully floats down the pitch with the ball is incredible. He is the moment. I understand why Virgil is infatuated with him. How can you not? Absolutely mesmerising.

Diogo Jota -

Literally just nominate him for the Ballon D’or. The goals he scores are incredible. Also an absolute warrior at FIFA. I’d ask to play against him and the score would be 52-1 to him (the 1 goal he’d let me score out of pity) I’d leave the room crying. Hendo would ban us from playing FIFA against each other for the rest of eternity.

Sadio Mane -

Sadio Mane. The best football player in the world. The guy is a superhero. What a season he’s had. So proud. If he goes to Bayern I’ll delete football. The game is nothing without him. We need him. He’s wonderful.

Alisson Becker -

The best goalkeeper in the world. I don’t know how you can tell me Ederson is better. Alisson is the reason we are where we are. His iconic, once-in-a-lifetime header against West Brom was the pebble in the pond. It’s the reason we are the team we are. There will be statues built for him, murals painted, and sections in museums dedicated to him and I will be the first one there for it all. He also looks like he could be Chris Hemsworth’s brother.

Roberto Firmino -

I sing his song while I go about my daily life. He is captivating. His teeth scare me a bit but his football skills are amazing. People will talk about him for generations. He is ingrained in history.

Divock Origi -

Football without Origi really is nothing. Life is meaningless without him at Liverpool. I will take it upon myself to build a statue of him outside Anfield. He is nothing short of a legend. I already miss him. I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself next season. There is going to be a void in my life. A hole in my heart. I prayed this day would never come. I don’t want to say goodbye to our Divock.

Harvey Elliott -

Little bit of a prick I can’t lie, but he’s a great football player. Watching the replay of his injury traumatised me. I don’t know how he didn’t just die then and there. He’s really short as well. I can’t get over how he thought he was doing something when he tried to push Kai Havertz in the Carabao Cup final. Was hoping for a part two of that in the FA cup final but neither of them played. Disappointing to say the least. But yeah he’s decent.

Mo Salah -

Literally just give him the Ballon D’or. The best player in the world. Was robbed of PL player of the season. Will not go into that because I’ll get too angry. Really hope he doesn’t leave. Won’t be able to deal with that. Might have to end it all.

James Milner -

Brexit football at its finest. He looks a bit scary sometimes but I can’t be mean to him because we have to respect our elders. The veteran on the pitch. I’m fairly certain he’ll be playing football until he’s one foot in the grave. James Milner will never retire.

35 notes · View notes

sulldrit-art · 4 years ago

Text

OM! Brothers w Chubby MC

Hi this is my first post like this so please be nice lol. Kept it GN and body positive because I know these boys are big comfort characters for a lot of people.

Lucifer:

Loves to compliment you on how beautiful your body is whenever you’re in private

If you get changed in front of him or anything like that he stares at you with such love in his eyes

Likes to have you sitting in his lap or laying on top of him

Will pick you up all the time like it’s nothing

If your ever feeling down about yourself or being self deprecating he will usually say something along the lines of “Look at me. You are perfect just the way you are.”

Will literally commit murder if anyone says otherwise

Mammon:

Loves it when you are confident so he encourages you when you are feeling good about yourself

“Wadda’ya mean ya need ta lose weight? Ya think THE Mammon cares about shallow stuff like that? Stop sayin stuff like that. Yur worth a million grimm ya hear me?!”

Loves taking pictures with you and calling you his super model

Thinks your hugs are the best ever

Allows zero negative self talk around him when it comes to you

Loves to cup your face with his hands but pinches and stretches your cheeks if you say anything embarrassing

Will seriously start yelling and trying to fight anyone he hears say anything bad about you.

Leviathan:

He doesn’t have the most toned or athletic body either

Hates it if you are ever self deprecating

“I know I say bad things about myself but I won’t let you do the same! Absolutely unthinkable!”

You both agree not to be so hard on yourself

Likes to wrap his arms around you and rest his head on the top of yours on on your shoulder while he plays video games

Likes to cuddle you like a body pillow because your so soft

Can’t handle looking at your thighs especially when you are sitting down, they have too much power over him

Loves nothing more than to sit around with you playing video games or being on your phone

Satan:

Reading a book while your laying on his chest listening or napping is what he imagines heaven is like

He also loves to wrap his arms around your belly and have you read to him while he looks over your shoulder

If you ever talk negatively about yourself he’ll be like “Enough or I’ll get angry. It makes me mad that such a perfect person could say or think such things about themselves.”

Likes to get yummy baked goods with you whenever you go out.

Will also commit murder if he hears anyone say anything about you

Likes to hug you from behind and sway from side to side

Another one that will pick you up without hesitation

Loves to just watch you because he finds you so beautiful/handsome

Asmodeus:

Thinks your soooo cute!

Loves to squish every part of you

Showers your belly in kisses

Loves hugging and cuddling you cuz he says your so soft

Loves when you are confident and wear clothes that show off your body

Will sneak attack you from behind just to wrap his arms around you and squish you

If you ever feel down or self conscious he will say something like “My taste is never wrong darling. You are the prettiest/most handsome thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I love every inch of you. If you have doubts I’d be more than happy to make them all go away~”

Likes to take you shopping and be super sweet cuz he knows it can be draining if things don’t fit the way you want them to

Loves to praise you

“Not to sound like Beel but I really could just eat you up~”

Lots of pictures together

Sometimes self care is eating a tub of ice cream together in bathrobes

Beelzebub:

Loves to make food for you and give you bites of his food

Big teddy bear who also loves to hug you, especially from behind when you are cooking or something.

Loves carrying you around with your legs wrapped around his waist

Loves to kiss your stomach and make you giggle

Picks you up when he hugs you

Invites you to the gym but doesn’t pressure you into working out, he just loves your company

Will move you to lay on his chest when you cuddle if you aren’t already

Loves when you wear his clothes

“What’s wrong with how you look? Your perfect the way you are. You make me so happy, I can’t think of a single thing you should ever change.”

Always gets a bunch of your favorite snacks and food

“If you like it then you should have it. It’s delicious right? That’s all that’s matters.”

Belphegor:

Isn’t physical fit either

Go to nap spot is your lap

Also likes to rest his head on your stomach

Will lay on you regardless of where you are

Loves cuddling of course

If you ever say anything negative he’ll always be like “Don’t be dumb, there’s nothing wrong with how you look. You should never feel ashamed of the form you take, you are so much more than your shape.”

Enjoys laying in bed or on the couch or really anywhere as long as it’s with you.

Will kill anyone who is rude to you and the body will never be found

Milk and cookies together before bed for the win

504 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 4 years ago

Note

miss cee pd i have a request!!!! how about e2l tae x y/n but they're in law school and they're always arguing and debating inside and outside of the classroom and tae being a little shit is like "you wanna kiss me so bad" and they both don't realise that there's mistletoe above them which jimin put because he was tired of watching them constantly argue and wanted to fiZzle the tension hehe and then they KITH,, i hope this isn't too long aha

➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader

➺ genre; sfw!! enemies to lovers!! everyone’s in law school!! mostly y/n and taehyung bickering with each other and wanting to jump each other’s bones at the same time

➺ wordcount; 4.3k

➺ what to expect; “don’t flatter yourself. i would rather throw myself into oncoming traffic than kiss you, kim taehyung.”

»»————-　❄　————-««

“-now, the particular case study that was assigned to our group involves a civil action for medical negligence and a criminal prosecution for gross negligence manslaughter, which means that there are seven elements that we need to hit when we’re acting out our simulation next class,” you explain, flipping to the next page of your notebook with a flick of your wrist, “firstly, the client - jimin - must be interviewed so that we may determine the facts that surround the claim/prosecution. secondly, we need to draft witness statements - from hoseok and namjoon - and assess the legal efficacy of said statements. thirdly, we must assess the propriety of police interrogation from officer jungkook of the defend-”

you pause when a crumpled piece of paper lands by your left foot and you clear your throat quietly before stepping over it and continuing to pace back and forth at the front of the classroom

your eyes skim over your scribbled words as you try to relocate your place

…

ah!

here we are

“-ant, seokjin, through all transcripts along with the custody record. fourthly, we move on to assessing the reports that have been produced by the forensic experts-”

another balled-up piece of paper hits your foot and your head immediately snaps upwards from your book before you twist around to face the room

“would you cut that out, please?” you snap, already feeling your blood pressure starting to rise from a single glance at taehyung’s smug face

“what? i didn’t know how else to get your attention!” he hums, his arm dangling in the air with a floppy wrist, “my arm’s been up for the past three minutes, and you would’ve known that if you didn’t have your nose buried deep in your book.”

the reminder that you wouldn’t last a day in prison keeps you from lunging forward to wrap your hands around taehyung’s neck and you press your lips together to stop yourself from saying anything too crass

the last thing you need is for some professor to walk past the classroom while you’re cussing up a storm

your self-control has really been put to the test ever since you met taehyung

after all this time, you still don’t know what the guy’s deal is

he’s been a pain in your ass since day one

and for what??

for WHAT?!

at first you just thought that being a complete prick was just his weird version of being charismatic, but then you realised that he wasn’t being charming at all and he was really, truly, genuinely being a straight-up asshole

and, for the record, you’ve tried several times in the past to try to make things better but nothing’s worked

you said that he looked nice in his suit = he told you to stop looking at him like a piece of meat

you asked him how he did on the midterm exam = he told you that it was his right to keep that piece of information private and that you were being a snake by even asking about it

you said happy birthday to him = he said, and you quote, “yeah. it was until you got here.”

the point is, you’ve waved many white flags of surrender and extended many, many olive branches to no avail

at this point you’re pretty sure taehyung just gets off on being a jerk to you

and it’s not fair because it’s literally just you that he picks on constantly

at first you thought that maybe he was just threatened by your presence because you made it pretty clear from day one that you weren’t here to play around

powerful women are intimidating!

you totally get it.

…but then you overheard him offering rosé some studying tips and you even saw him help wendy carry her books for her and everyone knows that rosé and wendy are two of the smartest girls in the class, so why wasn’t he threatened by them?

...

the point is, he doesn’t treat anyone else in the class like this except for you and you can’t seem to figure out why!

what makes it even more frustrating is the fact that his stupid face is very nice to look at, so whenever he’s being mean to you, your dumb girl hormones drown out the sound of his rich, honey-like voice and place floating pink hearts around his head instead

“i’m so sorry i wasn’t paying attention to you, mr. kim.” you force out before gesturing to the notebook cradled in the crook of your arm, “see, all my notes are in here and i’m just trying to make sure that i don’t miss out on any details,” you point out, “and… i thought i said to save your questions for the end, did i not?”

“did you? i guess i wasn’t listening. sorry, sweetheart.” taehyung chirps, folding his arms and leaning forward on his desk, “anyway- don’t you think it’s a little unfair that you get to play the hotshot lawyer in this simulation?”

“everyone gets a turn to be the lawyer - last week, it was jungkook. this week, it’s me. everyone gets a shot to play the hotshot lawyer because our roles rotate.” you shake your head in disagreement, “how am i being unfair?”

“you assigned yourself, like, the coolest case study.” taehyung scoffs, leaning back against his seat and crossing his arms, “i mean… medical negligence and a criminal prosecution for gross negligence manslaughter?” his left brow arches before he turns his head slightly, “jungkook, what was your case study on again?”

“my client parked in a no-parking zone!” jungkook beams, nodding to himself, “i didn’t mind getting that case, though. it was actually pretty fu-”

“you hear that, y/n?” taehyung turns his head back to face you before gesturing behind him, “jungkook also thinks his case was boring as hell- his client parked in a no-parking zone and you get to deal with corrupt doctors and accidentally-but-not-really-accidentally-run-over-by-a-car pedestrians.”

your jaw clenches in frustration and you resist the urge to take a heel off and bash taehyung’s skull in with it

being forced to wear nice shoes to school would be so much better if you were allowed to commit cold-blooded murder with them

“well, that was last week’s case, so even if jungkook thought it was boring…” you pause, turning to set your notebook down on the front desk before twisting back around, “he’s already had his turn. and now it’s my turn!”

“you could’ve given me this case.”

“oh, please.” you snort, rolling your eyes before leaning against the front desk, “you wouldn’t have been able to handle a case this big. this has my name written all over it.”

taehyung scoffs, rolling his eyes, “the only reason why it has your name written all over it was because you grabbed it with your grubby little raccoon hands before anyone else had the chance to-”

“i-!” you pinch the bridge of your nose before letting out a laugh of disbelief, “oh my god, i refuse to have this conversation with you again, taehyung- for the last time, it was a first-come-first-serve situation, and you probably could’ve gotten this case if you weren’t so busy watching netflix in class-”

“you guys-” namjoon clears his throat, his shoulders drooping when the two of you ignore him, “…never mind.”

this always happens

you guys somehow always find something to argue about no matter what

in fact, namjoon’s convinced that you guys could sit in complete and utter silence and still find something to fight over

“how long do you think the argument will last this time?” yoongi leans over, “i bet you ten bucks it’ll last longer than last week’s fight.”

“no way! last week’s fight was half an hour long-” hoseok chimes in, “…they can’t possibly argue for longer than thirty minutes… can they?”

“remember that time they fought over a sandwich?” jungkook sighs, leaning his cheek against his fist, “that was a forty minute argument.”

“they fought over a sandwich?” jimin frowns, turning to glance towards the front, “what was there to even argue about??”

“y/n said that the spread was dijon mustard and taehyung said it was horseradish mustard,” seokjin purses his lips, “…i actually ordered the same sandwich and i’m pretty sure it was just regular ol’ yellow mustard… but i’m too afraid to tell either of them they’re wrong about it.”

“oh my god-” jimin scoffs, “forty minutes arguing about mustard?? really??”

“yep! i even recorded the whole thing just because it’s actually pretty interesting listening to two people scream about mustard so passionately for so long,” jungkook pulls his phone out of his back pocket, the rest of the boys scooting in closer to his desk, “by the time we finish watching the video, they’ll… probably be done arguing with each other. maybe.”

“-ow thick is your skull, taehyung? were you dropped on your head as a baby??” you scowl, “if i was a teacher’s pet like you say i am, then i would’ve sweet-talked my way out of being in a group with you. also, you know what? i wasn’t going to bring this up, but the only reason why we’re here during christmas break is because it was your idea to practice during the holidays-”

“yeah! you get to practice your big show in a huge, empty classroom without getting nervous about someone overhearing you practice speaking in your dumb, professional lawyer voice-” taehyung gestures around at the spacious atmosphere, “if this is your way of being thankful to me, you have an awfully funny way of showing it-”

“do you know what i could be doing right now if i wasn’t here?” you scowl, placing your hands on your hips as you glare at taehyung

“hm, let me think…” he hums, leaning back against his chair before kicking his legs up onto his desk, “bending over and trying desperately to pull the fat stick out of your ass?”

jimin sits up a little straighter as he peers over the top of namjoon and seokjin’s heads to check and see if you and taehyung are done arguing yet

your ears are turning red and there’s an animalistic, frenzied look behind your eyes, so... nope. definitely not done yet.

after all this time, he still doesn’t know why you guys fight the way that you do

it’s like you enjoy pushing each other’s buttons and irritating each other until one of you inevitably snaps (you’re usually the first one to fall off the rocker because taehyung is alarmingly good at being irritating)

��ooh, hold on-” jungkook grins, pointing to the screen before whacking jimin’s arm in rapid smacks, “my favourite part is coming up, you have to pay attention-”

jimin looks away from you two and back down at the screen

“-the low acidity liquid gives dijon mustard that intensified heat and the classic pungent flavour which is very obvious in this sandwich!” you exclaim, peeling the top slice of bread off to reveal the inside, “and look at that colour! that is literally dijon mustard-”

“okay, fine! it’s dijon mustard.” taehyung responds while inspecting his nail beds

“no, you’re not listening to- wait… did you just agree with me?”

“yeah!” he sighs, crossing his arms, “the mustard used in your sandwich is dijon mustard. and also, the sky is green-”

“oh my god, you piece of-!”

jimin looks up again when he hears your voice rise a couple of octaves

this is the part of the argument when your ‘i’m-fine-don’t-touch-me-I’M-FINE’ voice comes out

“wow! you are-” you laugh, shaking your head as you lean down and place your hands flat on the surface of taehyung’s desk “you really are something else, kim taehyung. i-!”

you let out a yelp of surprise when taehyung suddenly reaches over and yanks at a section of your hair

“ow!” you whack his hand away before flicking your hair over your shoulder, “wha- what the hell was that for?!”

taehyung doesn’t flinch at your aggressive tone and he looks up at you, completely unfazed, before giving a half-hearted shrug

“it was hanging, like, right in front of me. i couldn’t not pull on it.”

“well, your tie is right there but you don’t see me reaching over and pulling on it to strangle you because it’s right in front of me-”

“oh, threatening to choke me, are we?” taehyung hums, “i’m suddenly feeling very unsafe. should i get one of the guys to call campus security for my protection, miss y/n?”

“do you guys think we should break things off?” seokjin glances over his shoulder at the escalating scene, “ideally, i’d like for this to not turn into a how to get away with murder scenario…”

jimin narrows his eyes slightly as the gears click-click-click away in his head, leaning back against his seat and reaching up to tap at his chin

there’s something about this situation that’s reminding him of something but he can’t quite put his finger on it

“oh my god, you are such a child-!”

jimin’s eyes suddenly widen in realization, a lightbulb appearing at the top of his head

does taehyung like y/n?

...

oh, wow

taehyung has a full-blown crush on you!

how could he not have noticed this before?!

taehyung is literally the bratty little boy pulling on your pigtails because he doesn’t know how else to get your attention on this playground!

a comment from a former conversation with you briefly flits through jimin’s mind as he continues staring at the two of you in awe

he doesn’t remember how exactly you guys started talking about it, but he does remember you saying these words to him:

“i mean… yeah. of course i think taehyung’s attractive. maybe in another universe where he’s not bullying me 24/7, i would be more open to admitting to myself that i might have a slight crush- i-i mean, i- what did we say we were going to get for lunch today?? sandwiches?? we should get sandwiches, the place is right here-”

how could he have forgotten you said that to him?!

it’s like he finally has his hands on the missing puzzle piece... and it’s up to him to finish this puzzle!

“i have a plan.” jimin whispers to himself before reaching over to grab onto jungkook’s wrist, “i know what i have to do!”

“huh?” jungkook frowns in confusion, pausing the video before looking over at him, “what are you talking about?”

“just-” jimin gets up from his seat quickly, the chair screeching against the floor, “just make sure they don’t stop arguing with each other while i’m gone because i might take a while to find what i need-”

“you know, i don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” yoongi snorts, everyone looking towards the front to see you glaring at taehyung like you want to rip his heart out of his chest and eat it raw, “check out that throbbing vein in y/n’s forehead.”

“forget about her forehead vein-” jungkook shakes his head, “has no one else noticed how tightly taehyung clenches his asscheeks whenever he’s pissed? those trousers do not hide anything.”

everyone’s eyes immediately gravitate down to taehyung’s ass, hoseok and seokjin bursting into giggles at the sight

“what the fuck is your problem?!” you scream, taehyung’s eyes widening at your sudden outburst, “you’ve treated me like shit from day one and i’ve literally done nothing wrong!”

“okay! i think we should all just take a step back and take a deep breath…” namjoon gets up from his seat slowly, “it’s getting a little intense-“

“nothing wrong?! oh yeah, because you’re little miss perfect-” taehyung spits out, “don’t play dumb, you know exactly what you did!”

“what did i-!” you throw your hands up into the air, “please, i am begging you to tell me what the horrible thing is that i did that made you decide i was public enemy number one-”

“i heard you talking shit about me at the very beginning of the semester when you didn’t even know me! we’d never met and you didn’t even bother trying to get to know me before you formed your own opinion of me based on the way i looked-” taehyung snaps, “you said that i looked like an entitled, obnoxious frat-boy who didn’t even know left from right and only made it to law school because his daddy gave the school a generous donation- so if we’re really going to talk about who the real asshole is in this room, i would suggest re-evaluating-”

you feel the blood drain from your face at the reminder of what you said about taehyung on the first day of class

...oh.

...

okay, yeah, you... might have said that stuff, but it was only because the other people you were sitting with at the time said stuff like that and... and you were so desperate to find a group of cool law-school friends that you were totally willing to say and do anything they wanted you to do or say!

it obviously didn’t work because you don’t sit with them anymore, so...

yeah, it was a bad move to talk shit about taehyung like that without even having spoken one word to him, but if this proves anything... it’s that peer pressure is dangerous!

“well, why didn’t you just-” you stammer, feeling your face starting to heat up from embarrassment, “why didn’t you just tell me about this earlier? we could’ve nipped it right in the bud-”

“i much prefer the bullying because the feeling i get after seeing the defeat in your eyes is equivalent to a full-body orgasm-”

“oh my god, you sick freak-”

“uh, you guys-” namjoon cuts in again, holding his finger up, “can i just s-”

“okay, fine!” you raise your hands in surrender, “i’m sorry, alright? i’m really sorry. what i said about you was shitty, but i don’t see how bullying me for months on end was a good solution-”

“can you two shut u-”

“oh, i never said it was a good solution, y/n,” taehyung purses his lips, “like i said - i just did it because it was fun-”

“guys, if i could just get one word in-”

“do you even realize how psychotic you sound right no-”

“HEY!” namjoon suddenly bellows, you and taehyung jumping and clamming up immediately in alarm

“what??” the two of you ask at the same time, pausing to glare at each other for a split second before looking back over at namjoon

“i…” he trails off, his eyes flickering upwards, “…know this is kind of awkward timing, but…”

you and taehyung look up simultaneously, your eyes widening to see a dinky little shrub of... mistletoe? taped at the end of a meter stick

oh no

oh hell no

“kiss first, and then you can apologise for what was obviously a huge misunderstanding and you can apologise for being a huge prick later - pucker up, lovebirds!” jimin chirps, waving the stick a little and watching your eyes go side to side like a ping-pong ball, “don’t be shy! also, i know the mistletoe looks like a clump of grass that i tied a red ribbon around- just don’t look too closely at it-”

“ha!” you let out a laugh before shaking your head quickly, “no way! i don’t know what you people think is going on here, but it’s certainly not that- you can’t just dangle a plant over my head and force me to kiss him-”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” taehyung scoffs in offence, tilting his head upwards slightly, “anyone would be honoured to be under the mistletoe with me!”

“yeah. anyone out of their mind.”

“aw, c’mon, you guys…” hoseok pushes his bottom lip out in a pout before clasping his hands together, “kiss and make up! we all know that’s how it works. let the christmas spirit take over your bodies and fuel your weird hate-love for each othe-”

“the sooner you two kiss and make out, the sooner i can get the hell out of here,” yoongi interrupts, snapping his fingers, “c’mon! plant a fat one on each other!”

“the only reason why y/n’s getting whiney about it because she knows she’ll fall in love with me the moment she kisses me.” taehyung suddenly speaks up and you immediately look back down at him with a glare

fall in love????

with him????

it’s not going to take a single kiss to fall in love with taehyung - it’s going to take intensive exposure therapy to fall in love with him!

“don’t flatter yourself. i would rather throw myself into oncoming traffic than kiss you, kim taehyung.” you growl, smacking your hands down on taehyung’s desk so violently that it rattles beneath you

“now, now. there’s no need to lie…” taehyung chuckles lightly as he pushes his seat back slightly and rises to his feet

“i’m not lying! i don’t want to kiss you!”

“do too!”

“do not!”

“do TOO!”

“do NOT!”

“you know, you just sound like you’re trying to convince yourself that you don’t want to kiss me-”

“you’re the one who keeps pushing it-” you jab a finger into his chest, “maybe you’re the one who wants to kiss me!”

“you think i wanna kiss you?!” taehyung laughs, flicking your hand away from him, “now look who the delusional one is!”

“i thought this was supposed to fix the arguing?” seokjin mutters under his breath, jungkook offering him a shrug while keeping his eyes glued on you and taehyung

he was running out of things to watch on netflix and this makes far better entertainment

the only thing that would make this better was if you and taehyung had at it in a grimy boxing ring half-naked

“i can’t be the only one thinking that all of this could be easily fixed if they just boned each other.” jungkook snorts, the other boys turning to look at him, “…what??”

“i wouldn’t kiss you even if you were the last man on earth.” you snarl, your voice wavering slightly

“you really expect me to believe that?” taehyung tilts his head, “don’t think i didn’t catch the way your eyes just flickered down to my lips, y/n...”

you feel your heart starting to pound in your chest when he places his hands flat on the desk as well, the tips of his fingers brushing over yours

at this proximity, the little voice in the back of your head can’t help but point out how pretty taehyung’s eyes are... and how nice he smells... and how soft his lips look...

...do you wanna kiss him?

oh, god

do you wanna kiss kim taehyung?!

no, you don’t

yes, you do

what??

WHAT??

“you wanna kiss me so bad, and you know it, y/l/n.” taehyung taunts, leaning forward just a little more

at this point, your faces are merely an inch away from each other’s and it wouldn’t take much effort to just lean in and… you know.

“i hate you.”

“if you hated me so much, then you wouldn’t be making such a big deal over silly little mistletoe now, would you?” taehyung smirks, pulling away before making his way around the desk so that he can get closer to you, “you like me but you’re too much of a wimp to admit it!”

“i like you?!” you gawk, “more like you like me!”

“okay-” jimin huffs, lowering the stick before taking a step back, “i really thought this was going to work, but my arms are getting tired, so if you two aren’t going to kiss, then i- oh-” his eyes widen in surprise when you and taehyung are suddenly lunging at each other not a second later, your hands cupping his cheeks and his hands gripping your waist as you kiss far more feverishly than he thought you two would

oh my

“see, what’d i say? sexual tension!” jungkook kisses his teeth, leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms, “all that pent-up energy from arguing has led to this beautiful moment-”

“you’re an- mm- you’re an awful kisser, by the way-” taehyung mutters against your mouth, lips turning up in a boyish grin when you retaliate by shoving at his chest

“so are you!” you pull away only for taehyung to pull you right back in to press his mouth against yours again, “’m hating ehvery minute of this-”

“ah… isn’t young love sweet?” hoseok coos, jumping in his seat when taehyung suddenly shoves you up against the front desk with a thud, “so passionate!”

“okay, we’re just going to-” namjoon gets up from his seat gesturing for the boys to get up as well, “we’re happy to see that the argument has been settled!”

he hurries everyone to the front door and turns to glance over his shoulder, “when you guys are done, just… let us know! we’re going to pop over to starbucks for some hot chocolate. so... text one of us. or call! or you could use snapchat- it’s up to you, really-!”

namjoon doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before yoongi’s yanking his arm and pulling him backwards, reaching over to slam the door shut

a moment of silence goes by in which everyone takes a second to process what exactly just happened

“take your shirt off-”

“you take yours off first!”

“i... can’t tell if my plan was a success or a failure.” jimin mutters to himself, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck

“hey, if it makes you feel any better, at least they aren’t arguing with each other anymore!” jungkook cheers, clapping his hands quietly, “it’s a christmas miracle!”

❄️christmas with cee 2020 masterlist 🎄

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ff-imagines · 3 years ago

Note

Oh snap you're opened. Welcome back! Can you please do the nsfw alphabet for peking duck? I really like your writing!

Peking duck: nsfw alphabet

Minors dni xoxo

A - aftercare

The best at it, honestly. Might seriously cry a little afterwards lmao. You don’t have to ask for anything because he’s already thought ahead and is shoving everything you could need your way. It might get a little ridiculous with how careful he is with you, he doesn’t mean to baby you, he’s just terrified of hurting you. If you’re sore at all he feels incredibly guilty, even if there is a tiny part of him that twinges in pride when you remind him you’d asked for a rough treatment and, well, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give you exactly what you asked so nicely for.

B - body part

Of yours, it’s more a question of what he doesn't like. If he had to make a choice, he’d say your stomach. It’s good to lay his head on it, and it’s one of the softest parts of your body so it’s nice and warm. He’d die before he admitted it but some nights he goes a bit harsher than usual, splaying his hand across your stomach and feeling how deep his cock is inside you as he thrusts- it drives him insane really.

He also loves your hands, always wants to be holding you hand, especaily during sex. Will pin you down in a loving way by lacing his fingers with yours above your head.

On himself? Definitely his hair. Playing with his hair and giving him a scalp massage makes him feel some type of way. Sit in his lap while you run your nails across his scalp and he’ll bury his nose in the crook of your neck and moan for you, whatever happens next is up to you babes xoxo

C - cum

It’s not a crazy amount but it’s pretty thick. You can’t tell me he doesn’t have a big ass breeding kink. What can he say, Peking Dad is a family man! Just the thought of cumming deep inside you has him thrusting all that harder. Beg him to cum inside you, I dare you. You’ll see a side to him that’s much more feral than you’ve ever seen this sweet man. Would 100% cum inside and buck into you just a bit longer to fuck any cum that’s slipped past his cock back inside you.

D - dirty secret

He wants to take pictures of you while in your blissed out state. He loves you so stupidly much, he’s already got tons and tons of pictures of you going about your daily life. He’s the type to see a cat asleep and go “what a rare moment I must capture it forever” and that stays true with his beloved. If you’d let him, he’d love to make some… home videos with you, ones he’d definitely come back to rewatch to the point where your whines are committed to memory like the lyrics to his favourite song.

E - experience

I’d say he’s not a green bean with sex. I don’t think he’s been around the block either. He’s probably opened up such intimacy with a few others before just to test the waters, but hasn’t really felt passionate about opening that part of himself back up for quite some time. He’d most likely fumble a bit to begin with as he recalls the motions.

F - favorite position

Whatever yours is! He’s the definition of a true switch, let him soft dom you or treat him how you like, it’s up to you!

If he had to pick, he’s most likely a sucker for when you’re on his lap. No matter if he’s in charge or not, he just loves to look up and see the way your face scrunches when he bucks and hits that one spot inside you that makes your mind vacate.

G - goofy

Not…. Really? He’s accidentally goofy by saying something super out of place during intimate moments or by fretting over something you wouldn’t even think to be worried over. You could have his cock buried so deep in your insides will feel like they’ve molded to the shape of his dick and he’d stop and ask if you remembered to turn the oven off lmao

H- hair

On himself he mostly trims to keep it simple but like, that’s it. He’s got a light happy trail that he doesn’t really trim since it’s not that thick, it doesn’t really bother him.

On you, he literally doesn’t care. Shave or don’t, he’s your personal cheerleader either way.

I- intimacy

It’s his expertise, your honour! He lives to be closer to you, learn more about your desires, what makes you happiest, please let him treat you good, he adores you so much, and precious things get treated like royalty in his hands. He commits your body and reactions to memory, almost like he’s taken a photograph of every single touch- and like I said….. if you let him…. he would take pictures ;)

J- jerk off

You’d think he’d only do it occasionally but he actually does it quite a lot. He thinks it’s healthy to release regularly, it’s better to cum now than have a weird spike of horniness in public. He’s probably considered the chance that you walk in on him, and he’s surprised by how much he wants that to happen. For him to be desperately close to the edge and for you to walk in and take over, him a deer in the headlights as you take control, he’s could probably cum to that fantasy alone, honestly.

K- Kinks

Well, obv a big ole breeding kink. The thought of cumming in your deepest parts has him frenzied beyond belief.

Idk if the taking pics thing is a kink but also… that ofc.

I think he’s also into sensory deprivation. Allow him to blindfold you, tie your hands behind you, let him take care of you. He’ll handle everything from here, sweet thing, all you have to do is keep moaning for him in such a pretty way.

He’s also, surprisingly, into masochism. He doesn’t care for sadism at all, he’d die before he left a mark on your perfect skin, however….. if you decided to roughly pull his head back by his hair and bite just a little too hard, you might find him bucking into you a little faster.

He’s probably thought a bit about cock warming, but surprisingly he doesn’t really want it to be…. “sexual” as much as he desires to be closer to you. You sitting in his lap, feeling you exhale against his neck with your arms wrapped around him, all the while is cock is buried deep inside you, it just sounds so intimate, and he finds himself craving to be that close to you often.

The biggest of all? Praise praise praise. Body worship as well. He’s literally always babbling about how gorgeous you are, how good you feel, how amazing you make him feel. Always encouraging and always admiring you, just like he does every single day in non sexual contexts, always sneaking in ways to remind you how much he adores you. Tell him about a certain part of your body you don’t feel confident in, he’s paying extra attention to making it known how perfect everything about you is. Everything you have, own, are, all of it. Peking is your number one fan, sit back let him remind you just why he finds you so lovely, you won’t regret it.

L- location

He prefers to be in a secluded area, he knows he’s loud and he’d be really embarrassed if anyone but you brought up the….. volume of his whines.

However, he’s very weak when it comes to your begging. If you're in a less than private location, he’ll most likely let you lead and just try to bite his knuckle to keep from crying out. It'd be soOoOo awful if you made a game out of trying to get him to break and whine out for you unmuffled as you play with him, oOoOoHhHh the horror >:)

M- motivation

He’s an old dad with an enormous you-shaped hole in his chest, just ask him and he’ll give everything he has to his name to you. You don’t need to wear that certain perfume he loves so much, you don’t need to breathe across his neck like that, you don’t need to run a finger down his spine so slowly, he’ll give you anything you ask for, please don’t tease him so much.

If you straight up ask him for sex, he’ll mostly lean towards soft service domming, if you choose to purposely rile him up, he’ll be in a much subby-er mood.

N- no

Like I’ve said, there really isn’t a sadistic bone in his body. He also doesn’t have literally any desire for humiliation kinks. He just doesn’t like it, giving or receiving. He’s a big ole simp with a big heart and it’s in the palm of your hands, please treat it nicely :’(

O- oral

P l s let him give you oral. He might not be an expert but he lives to make you feel good.

Afab readers…. He’ll most likely try to make you sit on his face at least once, please please he wants to feel your thighs against his head while he works his tongue on you.

Amab readers, he fuckin loves to rub his thumbs on your hips to keep you from bucking as he swallows your cock, he’ll open his mouth for you after you cum, swallow, and open his mouth again to prove he didn’t let a single drop go to waste.

As for receiving, phew boy does he love receiving. He cannot for the life of him figure out where to put his hands so it’s a frenzy of him grasping the sheets to biting down on his knuckle to placing a hand on your head. If you made him look down at you and lock eyes while his cock is in your mouth his soul would leave his body lmao

P- pace

Not very fast at all, he prefers to thrust deeper than should be possible. He really likes when you beg him to go faster, and as soft as his heart is, this is the only time he might withhold himself from giving into your begging for a bit, he just loves pulling out so slowly and watch you almost cry out for him to thrust back, deeper harder, faster, please, he’ll give into you eventually, just let him savour the feeling of you needing him badly enough to cry for a few more minutes.

Q- quickies

He prefers long, drawn out rounds, but if you really need some relief quickly, he’s not one to deny you. He will most likely give in, and later on in the night when you're back home and out of the public eye, suggest you two have a much more... thorough round as quick rounds just don’t satisfy him enough.

R- risk

Surprisingly…… he kinda likes the idea. The thought of someone, maybe even someone who’s been pining for you, to catch him in the act of making you beg and cry for him. Alternatively, making them watch you as you give your full attention to him, pleasure him, make them watch you love him instead of them. It riles him up in a way even he’s not used to.

S- stamina

He’s an old man, his refractory time is kinda long lmao. He prefers one really long round rather than multiple. He doesn’t mind or judge if you need a little more, and doesn’t mind giving you a few more orgasms with his tongue or hands.

T- toys

He doesn’t have any, but he’s open to the idea! Admittedly, he likes the idea on himself, like, really likes the idea. Give him a cock ring and watch him cry out as he begs for a break that he doesn’t actually want to take because the bliss you’re giving him is making him feel like jelly.

U- unfair

He's tried to edge and tease you before but he gave in so damn quick it was almost embarrassing for him. He just adores you, he lives to please you, even if you beg him not to give in and try to tease you he just can’t, his heart is so so squishy and he loves you very much dear, please let him treat you exactly how you beg to be treated.

Overstimming however….. he does it accidentally a lot, he just loves prolonging your pleasure, watching you squirm a bit as he forces a second orgasm out of your poor spent body.

V- volume

He’s very loud honestly. If you decide to dom him he talks a lot. He's got a bad babbling habit, words of adoration bleeding from his lips that get more and more incoherent the longer you toy with him. Play with him long enough and he’ll forget how to form words, letting out loud whines and he squirms under you. You might catch him attempting to cry out your name but the poor thing just can’t seem to form the right words.

If you let him top you he’s still throwing out every compliment he can think of and he still whines a lot, he likes to bury his face in your neck to muffle himself and listen to your moans. He lives to hear you come undone, but he can’t help being so loud, you’re just so warm and you feel so good :(

W- wild card

I think jealous sex will be more common than you actually think, Peking is just very quiet about the reason he’s suddenly a bit more handsy. He knows it’s not rational to worry about his place in your heart, but it just eats at him sometimes when he sees the way you blend in with others so easily while he just… doesn’t. If a stranger/friend is more overt about their flirting he will probably be more obvious about the jealousy burning through his veins. Even if he wasn’t prompted through jealously, pillow talk sometimes leans towards him venting his fears to you. Please praise him, tell him how much you love him, he needs it :’((((

X- X Ray

A lot bigger than average and a bit curved. He never considered himself to be out of the norm, or never really considered his cock to anything else than, just, “well, its there” I suppose. He does appreciate the curve a lot more now because it makes it easier to hit your weak point. He feels a bit of pride nestling into his chest if you cry about him being too big.

Y- yearning

Fairly often, but he doesn’t mind not acting on it. He can still function and do his work if he’s only surface level horny. Literally anytime you ask he’ll deliver with very slim exceptions. He’d like it to be a regular thing, since he really enjoys the intimacy, so maybe 3-4 times a week, 1-2 if you prefer it to be.

Z- zzz

Oh man he loves cuddling with you after sex. He also loves cuddling with you period but god he loves to the pillow talk with you in his arms, listening to your sleepy voice as your grip on him slowly loosens -but never lets go, as you succumb to sleep. He isn’t overly sleepy himself, instead choosing to close his eyes and comb through your hair, or run a thumb across your cheek if your hair isn’t a texture that can be combed through. Sleep will come to him eventually, he just likes savouring the warmth you bring him.

#food fantasy #food fantasy x reader #ff peking duck #peking duck #ff peking duck x reader #peking duck x reader

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shoutogepi · 5 years ago

Text

Shinsou Says

Shinsou Hitoshi

word count : 5k

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : sauce alert !!! dom!shinsou, (shy)sub!reader, quirk use, teasing, dirty talk— kitten dynamics w surprise daddy

bio : Shinsou comes over in the dead of the night to find you touching yourself without permission, and he immediately has the perfect punishment in mind.

author’s note : i.. i’m not sure where this came from tbh cuz i’m not much of a shinsou fucker but… these days he has just been hittin different 😳😅

side note : usually i use the first name for bf smut, but a part of me really just wanted to keep the alliteration with Shinsou Says/Simon Says so deal with it lmao

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄰 breathy sigh floats from your lips as your back arches off the mattress, the sheets beneath you damp with sweat. The blankets at your feet are spilling off the edge of the bed, a crumpled pile of havoc collecting on the floor. You can’t help but writhe and moan, your fingers prodding gently against your clenched walls.

The clock on the other side of the room flashes red numbers at you, reminding you that it’s much too late to call your boyfriend over. You’d gone to sleep at a reasonable hour, but you had awoken in a sweat and in the most lustful state, very much craving his touch. However, you’re aware that he has a demanding profession, and to bother him into coming over just to fulfill your wanton needs— you couldn’t possibly bring yourself into sending him a text.

The moonlight streams into your bedroom through the cracks between the blinds, illuminating the area in a soft white glow. Your phone casts a dim light in the darkness of the room, your headphones twisting as your body squirms around. The intimate video he had taken just a few sessions ago lighting up your screen, his heavy breaths fill your ears as your fingers slide across your sopping core. Teasing yourself, dipping the digits in two knuckles deep and rubbing your walls for a moment before taking them back out, trailing north to touch your clit.

You close your eyes, letting your memories take over and attempting to replay the feelings you know he can give you. Coaxing your body into recalling how his smooth palms feel as they hold your legs open, his wet kisses trailing around your torso and spending extra time on your breasts. Fuck, the thought of him whispering those nasty words he always says as his nimble fingers delve into your heat.

It’s no wonder you don’t hear the front door open.

Shinsou steps into the dark apartment, the light from the hallway licking against the wooden floor in contrast to the shadowy room. He frowns, taking the spare key out of the doorknob as quietly as he can. Perhaps it wasn’t a great idea to come over unannounced in the middle of the night? But after such a long day and a hopeless few hours of attempting to sleep, he’d found himself briskly walking the couple of blocks that separated the two of you. He told himself that all he’d wanted was to slip into bed and wrap his arms around you… but then again, there was the raging hard on he’d been sporting for the past hour.

All doubt leaves his mind as he hears a soft moan leak out from your bedroom, his ears almost physically perking in interest as he hurriedly takes off his shoes. He tries his best not to make a single sound, silently padding across the floor towards your door.

He can hear all the noises tumbling out of your throat now, your unrestricted whimpers of pleasure making his fingers itch with prickles and warmth rush through his body toward his pants. The door is cracked just shy of allowing him unnoticeable entrance, and he can’t help himself as he slides into the room, cringing as the hinges squeak in protest. But you don’t notice him at all, his recorded groans stopping your ears from picking up the alerting noise.

Shinsou is glad you hadn’t heard him, because the look on your face is damn ethereal. Your features contorted in rampant euphoria, he watches your hands slide along the body he adores so much, sucking in a breath of air as your lips part and let out a particularly heavy moan.

“Ugh, Shinsouuu.”

His pants suddenly feel incredibly tight, and he licks his lips, shifting his weight between his feet. The noise of your fingers plunging into your wet cunt falls heavily on his ears, making him bite his lip. Fuck, how long have you been touching yourself for? And is that your homemade sextape playing on your phone?

“Ahah— you feel so fucking good!”

Your cries throw him over the edge, his body moving before his brain can process the command. He’s at the edge of the bed in three strides, menacing over your oblivious figure rolling against your own hand.

“My, my, kitten.”

The gasp that rips through you sends a cocktail of dread and desire washing through his bones, your eyes flying open to meet his predatory gaze.

“Shinsou!” This time you squeak it out almost shamefully, your fingers flying from your pussy and landing flat on the bed next to your hips. The embarrassment thrown over your cheeks makes him gush on the inside, but all that surfaces to his face is a smirk. His eyelids are hung at half mast, his watchful violet eyes regarding you.

“Ah ah, don’t stop on my accord darling. You’ve got me quite invested in this show of yours,” he tantalizes, knees falling atop the plush mattress.

A whimper escapes you, your eyes shutting briefly at the tone in his voice. You can feel the bed dip as he slides closer to you, tugging the headphones out of your ears and disposing of them next to the pillow above you. He hangs his body over yours, hands so teasingly close to your skin.

“Did you hear me, kitten? I said, keep touching yourself,” he demands, his voice level and clear.

Your eyes still screwed shut, your now clammy palms rub on the sheets, mortified to have been caught committing such heinous acts of desire. “I— I can’t, Shinsou, it’s too… I’m so embarrassed,” you whine, brows drawing together as you wiggle slightly underneath him in distress. The friction of your thighs rubbing together makes your arousal spread, coating your skin with slick.

His lips only pull back further, grinning down at you joyfully. “What d’ya mean, kitten? I should be mad you were being naughty and playing with yourself like that, but knowing you’re so desperate for me…” he leans in closer, lips grazing the sensitive skin on your jaw as you throw your head to the side. “Well, what kind of hero would I be if I left my kitten all alone, knowing she’s in such distress?”

His words make a moan of shock and want slither out of you, your back bending and pushing your body against his. Your purple-haired boyfriend really has quite a way with words. Your fingers meet his knees, gliding up his lean, muscular thighs and dragging your fingernails along them. “Please, I— god, I need you so bad,” you plead, hips adjusting as you look at him again.

His eyes are drinking you up, traveling over your sinful pout to your hands on his legs, and then to that glistening pussy of yours that he just knows is fucking soaked. “Mmm, let’s see how I can help then,” his lips greet yours forcefully, passionately engaging them in a desperate dance. His hand slides under your curved back, dry fingers curling along the damp skin in contrast, his dull fingernails sending shivers to your spine. He pulls away and grabs the hand that had been in your cunt, capturing your gaze as his lips rove over your fingers. His mouth taking them in and lathering his tongue along your skin, he savors the tangy flavor of your desire with an intense look.

“You’re too embarrassed to show me how you touch yourself, baby? Why so shy?” His words only make you impossibly wetter, and your lip trembles as you mewl softly in response.

Shinsou accepts the noise as a reply, tilting his head slightly as an idea comes to mind. He sits up, his hand sliding up to the center of your back and taking you with him.

“Do you wanna play a game, kitten?” His inquiry has you curiously regarding him, trying to see if there is any ill intent lingering in him. But you can’t find anything, only being sucked into his ravenous eyes. He presses further, wanting to convince you more than anything to play along. “I promise you’ll have a good time.”

You do trust your boyfriend after all— he’d never misguided your desires before, always satiating your every need. So you find yourself nodding again, arms wrapping around his neck hesitantly.

The grin on his lips makes your heartbeat quicken.

Shinsou’s hands cup the backs of your thighs, scooping you into his arms as he slides off the bed. He steals your focus away as his lips cover yours again, his tongue roaming along your bottom lip. You gladly allow him entrance, and you jump slightly as your ass touches the cold wooden floor. Peeking up at him, your breath stops in your throat at the preying look in his eyes.

“We’re gonna play a game called Shinsou Says.” You let out a moan immediately, your hand flying up to cover your lips a second too late. The pure action makes the man chuckle, his hand giving your ass a playful squeeze. “You familiar with it?”

Simon Says— you’ve played it before. Maybe back when you were younger… but you have a feeling that Shinsou’s game is going to be a lot nastier than your past experiences. This could go either very right, or very wrong. “Yeah…,” you trail off, wondering what your boyfriend’s intentions are exactly.

As if he can see the lingering wariness in your eyes, he continues. “I’m gonna tell you what to do, and you’re gonna follow my commands. If you follow my instructions without me saying ‘Shinsou says’, the game is over and you lose.”

“Is there a punishment for losing?” You ask, maybe a bit too quickly because his lavender eyes glint at you with hunger.

“Not really… you just don’t get the winning prize.”

Interest piqued, you look at him expectantly. “Well tell me what it is already!”

“The prize is my cock, baby.” Your eyes widen and fall to his lap, regarding the sizable tent in his pants. “You’ll be rewarded kindly if you show me that you can be a good girl for me. I can’t just forget that you were touching yourself without me, like a little slut. Prove to me you’re my good girl.”

Fuck, he’s a good talker. His words sound so tempting, and if you play the game, he’ll be murmuring those intoxicating desires into your ear all night. You straighten your spine with confidence. You can prove that you’re a good girl.

“If you wanna stop at any point, you’ll be able to. Just say the word and we’ll stop, okay kitten?”

Even though your lip is between your teeth, you nod once again, the idea of the game appealing to you. If you just follow his instructions, it doesn’t really count as touching yourself… right? It can’t be as embarrassing...

His pleased smile is enough to make your lungs rattle with anticipation. His hands land on your waist, his fingers massaging the flesh there tenderly. “Shinsou says, turn around.”

You were planning on following his command, yet your body finds it already acting on its own accord. A tight feeling of excitement and a shred of fear bubbles in your chest, realizing that he’s using his quirk on you. He’s never used it on you before, and in all honesty, you had been wondering when he would finally man up and test it on you. When you finally turn, you aren’t expecting to find yourself in front of your floor length mirror, and your cheeks immediately flush with a telling red.

His quirk is interesting— it doesn’t feel intrusive, more like your movements are the true desire of your limbs and he is just oiling you up into performing them. This already exceeds your expectations.

You hesitantly observe yourself in the mirror, looking at the slick glaze that drips down your inner thighs. Shinsou follows the action, sitting behind you and sliding his hands under your thighs, parting your legs widely and trailing his fingers along your skin. You lean back into his chest, getting comfortable and licking your lips.

“Shinsou says,” he grumbles into your ear, watching your reflection as your pussy clenches at the words, “cup your breasts and gently pinch those nipples, kitten.”

Your exhale is shaky as your fingers collect the heavy flesh, your palms gliding along the sensitive skin. You whine as your fingertips roll the perky buds, your actions not your own but delighting you nonetheless. Your hips roll slowly in the air, shutting your eyes and tossing your head atop his broad shoulder.

“Sensitive today, are we?” His low chuckle draws another whimper from you, and the luscious noise only spurs him further. “Wow, I’ve never seen you so fucking wet before. Look at yourself.”

You keep your head where it is, an almost pained look washing over your features at having to keep the game in mind. Shinsou’s quirk is absent in your hazy mind, not pushing you into performing the incorrect action.

“Hmm, what a clever kitten I have,” he purrs, fingers running along your skin. “Now— Shinsou says— look at how soaked you are for me. And don’t you dare look away.”

Your head turns and your cheeks feel on fire as you take in your reflection, as well as the haughty smirk resting on Shinsou’s lips. Your eyes travel to your sex, and you stop breathing as Shinsou’s lithe fingers inch toward it. They delicately land along your slit, the tips running between your petals teasingly. They brush over your clit for a moment, almost mocking you as they disappear from your core completely.

“Shinsou says, touch yourself like I just did, and keep at it, too.”

Even with his quirk guiding your movements, you find yourself wanting to follow his commands. You arch into his chest, whimpering as your nails give your swollen cunt a different sensation. Your fingers just as gentle and teasing as his had been, your lust skyrockets as your touch ghosts over your clit again. You sigh, watching how your actions cause your cunt to flutter in anticipation.

The action does not go unnoticed by Shinsou, who seems delighted by your telling body. His dick is achingly hard, but the premise of the game has him holding back. He wants to push you into becoming comfortable touching yourself like this. In front of him. He wants you to see how beautiful you are when you spread yourself for him like this, how you have nothing to hide.

“Shinsou says, ease your middle finger inside that drenched cunt for me, baby.” Your finger slips into your hole, pushing all the way to the knuckle and whining when your own digit doesn’t reach as deep as you want. As deep as Shinsou’s fingers can reach.

“Please, Shinsou, fuck,” you moan, your eyes still glued to your pussy. Your finger just sitting there inside yourself, your hips shift in order to find more stimulation.

“Now fuck yourself with it.”

You cry out, your finger still frozen in your pussy. What a tease! It’s not fair, this game is too cruel. Anguish washing over you, you glare at his reflection.

The anger rolling off of you makes him laugh, but he closes his eyes, leaning in to start pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses on the column of your neck. “Shinsou says, finger yourself, kitten.”

Your finger immediately starts moving, curling in and out of your slick cunt with fervor. The pad of your fingertip pressing intently, your body shivers at the sudden stimulation. “Ahhh~ Shinsou!”

“Shinsou says, add another finger.”

The familiar stretch makes your legs shake, your back pressing into his chest. He continues his assault on your neck, but his hands leave you in favor of stripping off his jacket and his shirt. His wild purple locks shift as he pushes your body into his naked skin, collecting your thighs in his hands once again.

His teeth nip across your collarbone, tongue washing over the reddened skin in a soothing manner. “Wish those were my fingers in your pretty pussy, kitty cat?”

The filthy words he utters make your already prominent blush intensify, your legs straining against his grasp. All you can do is moan, enjoying the stimulation your fingers dutifully provide. You meekly choke out, “More, please— I need it!”

Shinsou considers your dissolute request, watching the way your fingers thrust into your throbbing hole. You’d never been so desperate before, and he wonders again how long you’d been touching yourself before he’d arrived. Gauging how eager your actions are, he attempts more foul play. “You want more? You nasty slut. Go on then, rub your clit for me.”

Your hand jerks to complete the action but immediately you gasp and slap it back down against your thigh. Your breath is shaking, your fingers pressing faster into your cunt. You look at Shinsou with pleading eyes, a mewl croaking out of you.

The bastard raises a purple brow at you, leisurely returning to kissing your neck. “Aha, that was cute, kitten, I’m impressed.”

The pleasure and the build up from his taunting words send bolts of pleasure through your body, and you begin to feel your orgasm building once again. Frantic for more of his touch, your body wriggles with urgency.

He sucks in a tight breath as your ass grinds into his crotch, your body begging for his touch. “Shinsou says, stay fucking still.”

Your body freezes harshly on its own accord, and your eyes nearly pop out of your skull as Shinsou’s hand creeps down your pelvis, his fingers sliding along your own that are halfway in your pussy. He lubes the digits up on your excessive arousal, sliding the pads back up to massage your clit.

“Fuck!” You clench around your fingers at the novel sensation, and your eyes nearly shut as his other hand grabs your wrist, pushing your digits back into yourself.

“Shinsou says, tell me how that feels, darling.” His fingers on your nerve won’t quit, and the other hand shoves your fingers into your twitching cunt at a rapid pace.

Your jaw is slack, words unable to be voiced as your eyes dart between his arrogant smirk and his heavenly hands. But your body is not your own, and the words that come out of your mouth make your embarrassment increase tenfold. “It feels so fucking good Daddy!”

His movements halt and you let out a broken wail, your impending orgasm vanishing without a trace. Your wide eyes meet his in the reflection, both of you in shock at the term that he’d summoned from you.

You are his kitten, that had been established pretty quickly into your relationship. But he’s never heard such a scandalous term dare to come from your lips before.

It has him feral.

It happens so quick, you can’t even gasp as his hand closes around your throat.

“Daddy, huh?” His gaze on yours is like lava, molten desire oozing out of him so forcefully you can almost hear the crackle and sizzle. His other hand roughly shoves down his pants, thumb ripping his briefs southward.

His long length slaps his pelvis and although you cannot see it, your body shivers in excitement, ready to be split in two and filled to the brim. Your fleeting shame now crushed by your overwhelming famine for him. “Please,” you beg, the excitement of it all too much.

“Daddy’s perfect kitty-cat,” he groans, yanking you to sit up so you’re on your knees, thighs shaking. “You want Daddy to fuck this slutty little pussy? Huh, kitten?”

“Yes! Yes, Daddy— Please!” You’re practically groveling with the words that come out, like a delirious prayer on your lips.

The hand on your neck slips back to fist the hair at the base of your skull, and he shoves you forward roughly so your hands fly out to catch yourself. Tugging on the hairs, he forces you to look at your reflection up close, your knees propping your hips up to the perfect height.

Your heart thuds in your rib cage as the head of his cock glides along your glassy entrance. A growl rumbles in his chest as he watches your strands of slick stretch as he takes his cock away, connecting your cunt to his length as if tempting him to just shove it in.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, making your eyes open and lock onto his. Your ass lowers so the tip brushes along your folds again, and you pant desperately as he grins at you. “You’re my sweet little kitten— all mine. Got it?”

You nod again. Words are just so hard to come by tonight.

His hand that isn’t on your hair slaps your ass abruptly, eliciting a loud moan from you. His fingers dig into the reddened flesh, his tongue running eagerly underneath his teeth. “Now, Daddy says…”

Your lip trembles, pussy fluttering as you look at him once more.

“Make yourself cum on my cock.”

He doesn’t need to activate his quirk this time. Your hips smash downwards, your cry and his moan filling the room as you take every inch of him, his hard cock spreading your tight walls with ease. You don’t allow yourself to accustom to his intrusive size, immediately bucking your ass upwards before slamming back down.

Shinsou’s eyes roll back, his hand laying still on your ass as you bounce on his dick, stealing his breath away. Fuck, the feeling of your steaming cunt squeezing him so well— it makes him want to dominate you.

His thick cock hits just the right spot deep inside of you, and your wetness drips onto the floor beneath you in excess. You can’t help the unabashed moans and cries floating from your lips, your twice-denied orgasm already coming back and making its presence known.

The purple-haired man notices your imminent climax too. The sounds that you’re releasing, and the way your cunt grasps his length so desperately— it's not like you’re hiding it very well. His hand claps across your ass again, and a snarl leaves him at how you clench on his cock in response.

His hand leaves your head, making your face drop and your chin drag against the floor. His hands dig into your hips, spreading your cheeks and forcing your hips onto his with purpose. He thrusts upwards as your ass crashes down, soliciting the most delicious shriek from you. Shinsou groans, forcing a pace that repeats the action so swiftly your body hums and bright stars dance along the corners of your vision.

“Did you fucking hear me, kitten?”

Your eyes open blearily, tears dotting your lashes at the sheer pleasure he’s causing. His expression is malicious, slitted eyes glaring at your mirror image, as if tempting you to follow his command.

“Daddy says, he wants you to cum.”

The pressure in your stomach heightens suddenly, so much that your jaw drops and your legs shake, your body tightening up. And then you’re orgasming, cunt squeezing the life out of his cock and thrashing on his hips in ecstasy.

His hands only tighten on your hips, and his pace does not dwindle as he plows into you with ease. The continued stimulation on your g-spot makes a trail of drool run down the corner of your mouth, your eyes rolled back all the way. The persistent tempo of his thrusts draws out a string of unintelligible pleas from you, and he finally stops to give you a second to catch your breath.

Your body melts into a puddle on the floor, the forced orgasm having taken a startling amount of energy from you. Shinsou gives a tentative thrust, a soft whine dislodging from you. Wrapping his arms under and around your thighs with his hands landing beneath your ass, he pulls you off the ground, sinking to his knees in front of the mirror. He spreads your legs mercilessly, lowering your body and sinking his cock into your aching cunt.

“Mmmmph, Shinsou,” you whimper as you’re struggling for words, your body feeling a confusing mix of heaviness and lightness. Your mind is still foggy, trying to readjust after your orgasm has devastated you so harshly. You body hadn’t had enough time to prepare itself, Shinsou had just ripped the orgasm out of you before it was ready.

Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, another mewl releasing as he pushes his cock inside again.

“Shh, shh shh kitten, don’t you worry. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you, just like he always does,” Shinsou breathes into your ear, sending the butterflies in your stomach fluttering with renewed energy.

The moans just keep coming out of you as his strong arms guide you to sit on his dick, sheathing himself inside you all the way and then rutting his hips up into you to rub that spot that makes you quiver. Your head not as cloudy as before, your hand wanders to your breast and you tug your nipple with your fingers.

“Mhmm, doesn’t that feel good?” He inquires, dropping your body a bit quicker on his length. Your lips open in the shape of an ‘o’, your other hand trails down your thigh. “You wanna touch yourself, darling? Not so shy anymore, are you?”

You shake your head, licking your lips at the mirror before you. It displays the sinful image of Shinsou impaling you with his mighty cock, folding your body like a flimsy lawn chair.

“Daddy says, lick your fingers and rub them on your clit,” he orders, thrusting into you faster.

Your hand on your thigh instantly flies to your lips, parting them and shoving your fingers into your mouth. You moan as your tongue lathers the digits in your spit, making Shinsou bite down on the tip of your ear and growl. Your body lurches as your fingers meet your clit, your entire core tightening at the added pleasure. “Fuck! Shinsou, ahhh— I— ughhh,” you can't stop the groan that slips out, your overstimulated g-spot sending euphoria rushing through you with every thrust.

“Ready to cum again, kitten?” He pesters, the tension amplifying in his stomach. Just the game had him all riled up, and now, after your intense orgasm and displaying yourself like this… well, he’s getting pretty close himself.

“Yes, please just… give it to me, Daddy,” you whine, your body bracing for the impact of another orgasm. With no control over your fingers on your clit, all you can do is accept the sparks zipping through your limbs.

Shinsou drops your hips to meet his as they buck upwards at a rapid pace, the breath in your lungs being stolen as you fall off the edge, your second orgasm slicing through you. The pressure alleviating from your core, your lips part and a long whine tumbles out. Clear fluid spurts onto the mirror and the floor as you tremble against his slick chest, cunt tightening and spasming violently.

Shinsou lets out a suspended groan, the image of your release splashing out of you combined with the feeling of you gripping his cock so forcefully coaxing out his orgasm. He fills your womb with warmth, his grip on your thighs weakening.

The room is filled with ragged breaths as you both remain in a state of bliss, Shinsou’s length massaging your raw pussy as he slowly cradles your body against his. Your eyes are closed, your cunt throbbing and tingling with the aftershocks of your climax.

Shinsou presses feathery kisses onto the mauled skin on your neck. There’s a ridiculously dark and large hickey forming there, but you can’t bring yourself to give a damn as he licks the bruising skin with care.

He intently watches a thick stream of white trickle out of your pink cunt and down his balls. Your body droops against his, exhaustion ebbing into your form. Shinsou pulls out of you and you whine as his heated cock leaves your trove, the stretch immediately being missed.

“How do you feel, kitten? You alright?” He asks, adjusting you in his arms as he stands, holding your body with discretion. He carries you over to the bed, laying you on the now-cold sheets.

Your overstimulated core throbs in protest as you shift, pushing the hair off your sweaty forehead. “I’m good, I'm just so tired… and I can’t believe I just—” you cut off, glancing at him with a slightly embarrassed look in your eyes.

Shinsou smirks, but the pride beams through his faux-suave expression. “Squirted? You sure did, kitten. And it was hot as hell.” He crawls onto the mattress next to you, his long arms encircling your waist.

Snuggled into his warm chest, you sigh in content, your body buzzing numbly from the lingering head-rush of your peak. He always knows what to say.

“You did so well, baby, I’m so proud of you.” His words are soft and sweet now, warm and considerate. “You proved it to me, darling, you’re such a good girl.”

Your lips mould into a sated smile, which you press into the smooth skin of his muscular chest. Before you can slip away into a restful slumber, Shinsou’s fingers collect your chin, gently tugging it up so your eyes meet his.

“Good girls don’t touch themselves though, kitten. This time you were lucky I came over here needing you just as bad as you needed me.” He pulls you into a deep kiss, making your arms wrap around his neck and your fingers glide into his soft, amethyst tresses. He hums deeply, pulling back and stealing your gaze with a lazy yet ominous glower.

“But if I ever find you touching yourself again,” he pauses, lavender eyes twinkling with a refreshed carnality that makes you shiver, “Daddy’s gonna figure out just how many orgasms it takes to make you soak these sheets all the way through.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

thank you so much for reading!! I hope it was alright, as I said, I’m not well versed in the Shinsou realm heheh

make sure to let me know if you enjoyed ♥︎

➥ masterlist

#honestly i have no clue how this came to be #one second i was looking at a picture #and then the next thing i knew i had 5k of smut typed HAHA #yikes #shinso smut #shinso fic #shinso hitoshi smut #shinso hitoshi fic #shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #shinsou smut #shinsou fic #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha fic #mha fic #my fics

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inkedtae · 4 years ago

Text

enough games ⇾ kth. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ hard dom!taehyung x bratty!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ established relationship, idol au, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ you’re both playing around, but your games might be more dangerous than you expected.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 4.5k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ hard dom!taehyung, massive dicc!taehyung, tattooed!taehyung, sub!reader, bratty!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it folks), rough sex, sir kink, hand kink, a lil exhibitionism (his mic is still on), degradation, humiliation, overstimulation, bondage, multiple orgasms, reader cums in her lingerie, use of gaming controller, pussy slapping, squirting, spanking, hair-pulling, face-licking, choking, thigh-slapping, thigh-riding, a lil dry-humping, edging, teasing, straight up filth

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ this is commissioned by @momoriki through ChangesWithLuv to raise funds for the Black Lives Matter movement.

► banner by ⇾ @rkivepacks

► beta’d by ⇾ @moonmintrails

The bright glow of the TV screen illuminates Taehyung’s concentrated features. That scowl of his draws a pout out of you. He flicks his tattooed thumbs over the controller and mutters his position into the mic. Arms draped around his inked neck, you nuzzle your nose against his cheek. A satin sapphire lingerie set hugs your curves as you roll your hips over his thigh. Every time he misfires, loses his positions, or collapses in combat, he’d use what little time he has while his avatar is recuperating to guide your hips over his flexed thigh. Momentary free hand on your hip, he’d sometimes even pull up the hem of your panties and tighten the fabric against your needy pussy.

Of course, his generosity only surfaces when you’re behaving. And given the fact that you’ve wiggled your way into that panty and bra set, and squirmed onto his lap by crawling under his arms, without his permission, Taehyung hasn’t been in a very generous mood. Now, every time something doesn’t go according to plan in his video game, your ass gets it - literally. His hand would smack your round cheeks then grope them for good measure.

“Why are you clapping?” You’d hear Jungkook ask through the headset. Face to face with Taehyung, you can hear every single interaction between him and the guys. “We lost, hyung. Stop playing around.”

Taehyung would drag his disappointed gaze on you, glaring down at you as you continued to selfishly get yourself off. “Trust me, guk,” he’d reply, his satoori accent making a reappearance. You’d shudder, knowing full well that the moment his accent surfaces, his patience is all but nonexistent. “Playing around was never part of the plan.”

A droning beep sounds from the screen, signalling another failed mission. Taehyung growls viciously into your ear. Shivers ignite fires in their wake, rushing through your bloodstream and prickling your skin with goosebumps. A moan draws from your lips only to have you whimpering seconds later. No sounds. He was very clear on that when you first settled yourself on his lap. You bite your lip and hope he hasn't heard, or worse. You hope his frien-

“What the hell was that?”

Darkening brown eyes fall on you. Clenching his jaw, Taehyung mutters into his mic, “Nothing, hyung.”

Gripping onto his tattooed shoulder, the one you usually love to trace and pepper kisses all over, you try to prepare yourself for another spanking. Taehyung senses your apprehension, however, and the sudden hesitance in your hips. You’re close. In fact, by the way your hips are jolting and quiet whines are pouring out of your mouth, he knows just how close you are. Holding onto your chin instead of your hips, he scoffs and pushes your cheeks in, puckering your lips like a little fish.

“I dare you,” he hisses, satoori accent thick. “I dare you to cum without permission.”

“I swear to God, if you’re talking to (Y/N) right now, I’m gonna egg your house,” Jin threatens as Taehyung’s avatar finally revives.

You furrow your brows, trying your best to keep your moans at bay. Had it not been for the mic and the fact that you know his friends can hear every single dirty detail, you would’ve let out the loudest moan you could muster, just to get under his skin. Your pussy, wet and dripping, quivers at the tone of his voice, the way that promise hangs over the both of you, challenging you to further push his buttons. There’s nothing you love more than getting on his nerves, testing his patience beyond comprehension.

A good challenge is what drew the two of you to each other. Taehyung had wagered your phone number over a game of pool at Hobi’s birthday party. You had wagered the Chanel necklace around his neck, claiming it looks better on you. It was a flatout lie, but your indifference towards him brought out this serious, no nonsense side of him throughout the game. You just knew, from his shift in demeanour alone, that he was everything you didn’t even know you were looking for. That Chanel necklace shifts against your collarbone now as you continue to shamelessly roll your hips over his thigh.

“Ew, Jin. Don’t be fucking gross,” Yoongi mumbles.

You ignore the argument you’ve technically started between his friends and focus on the hard look in your boyfriend’s eyes. Continuing to move your hips at a fast pace, you silently let him know that you’re going to ignore his authority. He did challenge you to a dare after all. His statement wasn’t technically an order.

Taehyung seems to pick up on your intentions quickly. He pushes his headphones down, letting them rest on his shoulders, and whispers, “you really wanna try that?” His tone has lost some of its power, voice slightly wavering. Cheeks flushed, he almost looks as though this entire situation is more humiliating for him than it would be for you.

Your clit’s in a frenzy, the friction of his bare thigh against your satin, arousal drenched panties setting the bundle of nerves on fire. Tight hole pulsing at the temptation of release, you decide to commit to the challenge and purposefully exaggerate a high-pitched moan. Taehyung smashes his lips into yours to silence you, but it’s too late. The damage is already done and the guys are going crazy over the headset. Yoongi threatens to sue, Jin orders eggs online and Jungkook supposedly regrets his entire existence.

Your boyfriend disregards the headphones, throwing them somewhere on the couch. Large hand around your neck, Taehyung pulls you off his lap and onto your feet. A whine escapes you at the loss of contact, your orgasm instantly dissipating, but he couldn’t care less. You’ve played too much, taken this too far. His friends have heard more than they should’ve and if you’re willing to put on this much of a show, then that’s exactly what he’s going to do too.

He tosses his controller somewhere near the headphones, neither of you care too much to know exactly where, as he, too, rises to his feet. His gaze is unforgiving. It tears down whatever confidence you believe you had in possessing the upperhand.

“Enough games, slut,” he all but spits. Scanning your frame, he licks his lips and shakes his head. He swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing, before saying, “you walk out in this little thing and sit on my lap, so I let you. You’re needy and wanna ride my thigh, so I let you. And maybe if you had asked to cum, like I trained you, I would’ve let you.” He tightens his grip on your neck, brushing his nose against yours as his lips tease another kiss. “But you just had to be the little fucking brat you always are, hmm? You wanna cum, baby?”

You nod instantly.

Taehyung grabs a handful of your ass with his free hand, grunting, “What the fuck did I say about using your words?”

“Yes, yes sir,” you rasp against the pressure of his large hand around your neck.

He smirks. A mischievous look swims in his eyes, hints of lust and greed accompanying it. His gaze flickers to your hair, locking in on the matching satin, blue ribbon that holds the majority of your hair back. He pulls an end undone. Your hair falls as he drags the ribbon’s cool fabric against your skin, moving it down your neck and over your shoulder.

His eyes fall to the Chanel necklace, lips tugging into a wider smile. He looks all too calm, too collected. He acts as though he didn’t just grab your throat with one hand and ass with the other. Leaning down, he places a little kiss over the necklace then up your collarbone.

Throat free of his hold, you inhale a breathful of his suede cinnamon scent. Your skin prickles with excited goosebumps, reveling in his tender affection yet anxious as to why he’s offering it. You’ve just let a majority of his friends know that the two of you were fooling around while they were in the middle of a game.

You read his expression carefully as he looks up at you again. His hands are off your body now, either end of the ribbon pressed between his fingers. “You play these games,” he starts, thumbing your chin tenderly. “But you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. Then, you act all innocent.” His hands fall on your wrists, pulling them behind your back. Using the long ribbon, he tightly bonds your hands together, then lets his fingers graze the curves of your ass. “And then you think you can get away with it.”

Twisting your hands, you try to fight against the ribbon, to test your ability to move and make your disobedience known. Taehyung shoots you a warning glare, holding your chin once more. “But let me tell you a little secret,” he hisses while brushing his nose against yours. For a second, you’re convinced he’s after another kiss but, instead, he presses his face against your cheek and whispers, “I’m tired of your games, babygirl.”

His hands come down on your ass, the smack echoing in your living room. You cry out a moan but he pays no mind to you or the sounds you make now. You’ve made it all too obvious to his friends what the two of you are up to. He’s done shying away from it. Grabbing handfuls of your ass, Taehyung pushes your body flush against his. You can feel his throbbing hard cock against your stomach, just as desperate for you as you are for him. He looks down at you with a sinister smile, eyes reflecting only unbounded lust that cannot be held back for any longer.

Turning you around, Taehyung leads you to the side of the couch then bends you over the armrest. Face shoved into the cushions, you can only just breathe. Taehyung delicately rubs the silk, lace trimmed panties. His silence festers an unusual cross of anticipation and arousal in the pit of your stomach, your heart hammering in your chest as a result. Tugging on the side of the panties, Taehyung hums a growl. You shudder from the sound alone and wiggle your hips. He ignores your attempts to entice him, but still falls prey to the shake of your ass, rolling his clothed hips against it.

“Tae, just fuck me alrea- Ah!”

A sharp spank cuts you off, jolting your forward. You’re not sure if he even really heard anything you said. Muffled by the cushions, your words could have easily been lost on him. But he didn’t give you permission to speak, and he sure as hell did not authorize the use of his name. Another smack echoes in the room, drawing another moan out of you.

As Taehyung rubs the stringing area, calloused hands so soft over your sensitive flesh, you can hear a jumble of voices to your right. Shifting in your position, you press your cheek to the pillow of the couch and look to your right. Fallen between the back of the couch and the cushion lies Taehyung’s headset. The red light flashes, letting you know that it’s still on. Their mixed curses and insults are hard to make out, but you know they’re there.

Still, you can’t find it in you to care too much when Taehyung pulls your panties to the side and cups your dripping heat. You whine at the contact, lips only inches away from the mic. Taehyung notices the headset and bends over you to push it closer to your face.

“You want them to hear you, right?” he hisses in your ear. His hand retreats from its place on your clit only to return to it with a new degree of force. He slaps you pussy twice more then growls, “Let’em hear you then, baby. Let’em hear you be the bratty slut you are for me.”

You gasp out moans from the harsh contact, brows furrowed and eyes searching for a way out of this embarrassment. You didn’t care at first, but with their voices so close and the mic pressed against your lips, you can’t help the wave of humiliation that washes over you.

Parting your lips, you’re prepared to apologize, to take all this back and beg Taehyung to turn the mic off. However, your groveling is immediately replaced by a loud moan. Returning to his previous position, Taehyung pulls out his hard, red-tipped cock and smears his precum between your folds. Pussy lips pulsing, you fist your hands and try not to squeal a moan into the mic.

“Suddenly so quiet?”

His large hand clutches onto your tied ones, holding you in place as he slowly pushes himself in. A string of mewls and whines escape you, the sweet burn of the stretch something you never really get tired of.

While your shame overtakes you, Taehyung’s is nowhere to be found. He lets out a deep groan, slapping your ass just to grab it. “So fucking tight,” he growls, purposefully raising his voice.

You summon the courage to beg him to turn the mic off once more, ready to play by his rules when he starts to thrust in and out of you. Sharp and fast, he grips onto the fat of your ass and thrusts unforgivingly into you. Frustrated from the humiliation, you decide to call his bluff and give into your sounds.

“Big, big, big. S-oo big,” you whine. Unashamed, Taehyung continues his actions. He even chuckles at your words, the desperate tone of your voice and the way it breaks with every one of his thrusts.

High-pitched moan after high-pitched moan leaves you with each of his hard and fast movements. Skin on skin, every clap of his hips meeting your ass mixed with both of your overly loud groans and whines drowns out every one of his friends’ complaints.

Knots twisting upon each other in the pit of your stomach, you can’t deny that you’re close. Your pussy gripping his huge length, you make it no secret that you’re ready to release. Your legs are already shaking, and whines turn into desperate squeals, shrieking your pleasure to no end.

“You better ask, babygirl,” he warns, voice satoori thick.

“Yes, sir,” you spit. Sarcasm drips in your tone, frustration in your voice. He lets it slide, convinced you’d follow orders this time. However, you’re dead set on humiliating him as he did you.

As you feel your orgasm reaching its edge, you clench tightly around his monster of a cock and cry out, “Taehyung.”

He gasps, gripping your ass to keep himself steady as you gush all over his length. You want to see the look on his face, but your eyes roll back as you lose yourself in your orgasm. Shuddering uncontrollably, crying out his name over and over again into the mic, you adopt his shameless demeanour.

Taehyung pulls out, not allowing you the privilege of riding out your orgasm. As you huff out a whine, rubbing your legs together to try to regain your high, he pulls you up by your bounded hands and turns you around. One look and you know you’ve done it now. Jaw set, eyes dark, nose flaring, Taehyung has lost all his patience. You should be worried, but he looks too hot when he's angry.

Pressing your breasts to his chest, you stand on your toes and steal a quick kiss. He gives in for a second or two before pulling you away by a rough grip on your hair. A little whine escapes you and you chew on your lip, watching his eyes swim with confusion. He knows he should be mad, but you can tell he wants to kiss you again. When you lean in for another, his anger sparks back to life. He holds you steady but the grip on your hair then leads you back on the couch.

“Sit.”

One word orders. You curse under your breath, averting your gaze to the floor as you take a seat. Taehyung lets a smirk play on his lips as he watches you finally behave. His hand, you finally notice, has been working hard on his cock, pumping himself to the same pace of his thrusts in you.

Rubbing his foot up your calf, he orders, “Open.” You sit back, ignoring the awkward strain of your wrist behind your back and spread your legs. His eyes devour your sweaty, needy body, undressing what little you have on as he continues to get himself off.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you finally say.

He only groans, running a hand through his blue hair. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but all you taste is his cum. Ropes and ropes of thick white fall over your chin, breasts, and mostly between your legs. He mutters your name as he cums to your submissive state and surprised gasps. Illuminated by the blue screen, Taehyung looks like a sex fiend, ready to take over you once more. As he reaches the end of his high, he doesn’t even take a moment to collect himself. Instead, he pulls up to take your seat and sits you down on his lap.

Taehyung holds your gaze as he pushes your legs open again. He glances down to your crotch, rolling his eyes and laughing to himself as he examines how his cum perfectly accents the wet mark of your panties. The fabric clings to your folds, drenched in your neediness but covered with his. Your scent hits the both of you and does more for Taehyung than you’ve ever seen. His eyes darken, tongue darts out to lick his lip. He looks ready to devour you, but he knows how much you love his mouth. You both know you’re not getting his lips that easy.

A sigh escapes him as he pushes your panties aside. You spread your legs wider as the cool air of the living room hits your heat. Taehyung notices your eagerness, you know he does, but he doesn’t meet your desperate gaze with a cocky one. In fact, he doesn’t meet your gaze at all. He continues to stare at your pussy, lips pressed tightly together. While still holding your panties aside, Taehyung uses his thumb to gently scoop some of his cum and rub your clit with it. His hands are so big, the action barely puts any strain on him.

You gaze down at his fingers, whimpering as he gives you exactly what you want. You love his hands, you’ve told him that countless times. The more he gives into you, the more worried you get. You want to question him, but it feels too good. Hips rolling into his hand, you make no effort to hide your neediness and every effort to ignore the gnawing voice in your head that’s reminding you that all this is supposed to be a punishment.

Moaning wildly, you lean your forehead against his shoulder, kissing the inked patterns. Taehyung smirks down at you, chuckling to himself as he ups his game. Still using one large hand, he holds back your panties, rubs your clit and now pushes up on your upper pussy fat to get a better hold on your most sensitive part. His thumb works faster, harsher. Growling in your ear, his rough dominance makes a reappearance.

Body trembling, eyes screwed shut, your hips are moving at a pace you’ve never known they could. You’re desperate to chase this orgasm as fast as you could, worried that he might pull back whenever and leave you edged and semi-satisfied. “S-sir? C-an-”

“Cum.”

Your head snaps up as you return to your previous position. Studying his features carefully, you look for any signs of sarcasm as you try to hold your release back. Meeting your gaze, Taehyung deadpans. Your brows furrow, and desperate squeals return. It’s a clear telltale sign of your nearing oragasm. Having enough of his games, you decide you’re going to cum whether he’s bluffing or not. Throwing your head back, you risk falling off his lap as you scream out your pleasure. Your legs quake, body cultivates as your orgasm rushes through you and your pussy gushes around emptiness. Screwing your eyes tight, you tuck your chin into your chest and press your legs together as his thumb continues it’s blissful rounds around your clit.

Taehyung watches you rile with pleasure, wrapping his free hand behind you to keep you from falling off the couch. Removing his hand from your pussy, Taehyung pushes your legs apart. You think you’ve snagged yourself a quick breather, but when he slaps your thigh, you find yourself further gushing your arousal and your legs jolting in odd fits of tremors.

Huffing, Taehyung wiggles his hand back into your panties. Without much of a warning, he pushes two long fingers in. There’s not a hint of mercy in his movements. His fingers enter and exit your wet, sensitive hole in fast, hard bouts of force. He cares very little for you squealing moans and pleads for a quick break.

“I thought you wanted to cum?” He asks. The hand that was once keeping you steady slides up your back and around your throat. He holds you in place by the grip on your neck with light but tightening pressure. “So, cum babygirl.”

Your legs come together once more and you think that at least he’d let go of your throat to push them apart again, but he doesn’t. Taehyung remains unbothered, unfazed by any of your high-pitched begs and squirming body. The only indication of his pleasure is the occasional grunts of satisfaction at your desperate state and the unmistakable semi-hard yet throbbing cock pressing against the side of your knee.

Creeping up quickly, you can feel your next orgasm around the corner. Tears prick your eyes as you realize that all his generosity has really been a punishment this entire time. His fingers don’t hesitate to move even faster despite the press of your legs around his hand.

Taehyung brings your face down to his. He’s smirking fondly at you and your conflicted state of desperately needing to cum and ending all this pleasure at once. He presses a gentle kiss upon your lips, then drags his own across your face. His tongue darts out and swipes up and around your cheeks. He wipes away your tears, staining your face with his spit instead. Dragging his wet, warm tongue over your eyes, Taehyung tightens his grip on your throat. Your moans are mostly muffled now, and raspy against his hold.

Pussy clamming up around his fingers, squeezing tighter around them, you find yourself on the cusp on your second orgasm. All this from just his fingers. He single handedly unraveled you with very little effort but lots of determination.

You don’t even bother warning him this time as your second round of arousal gushes all over his fingers. He chuckles darkly against your cheek, only igniting your horny nerves in the form of goosebumps and shaking limbs. Pulling his fingers out of you, Taehyung returns your panties to their place and takes to rubbing your clit over the satin, cum stained fabric.

As you almost slip off his lap, the hand around your throat shoots back to your hips. Taehyung holds you steady through all your orgasm tremors watching as you squirt all over his thigh and the couch.

“Ah, shit,” he hisses, rolling his hips against your squirming legs. You fight against the ribbon around your wrists, desperate to push his hand away from your pussy, but you don’t accomplish much besides almost falling off him again.

“P-pl-ease,” you stutter. The bliss is starting to fade into sparks of pain from the nonstop friction he’s providing. You love it, but you can’t ignore the need for a quick rest, a moment to breathe. “Sir, please!”

Taehyung grunts and finally removes his hand from your crotch. You pull your legs up to your chest, frantically heaving for oxygen. Taehyung dips his head in the crook of your neck, attaching his lips to the most sensitive area and sucking away. Though you feel ruined, completely drained and fucked out, you lean into his touch and let him play around some more.

Gently, Taehyung holds you close and shifts up. His cum drenched hand reaches behind him and he grabs his phone. You furrow your brows, watching his movements carefully. He peeks a look at the device from under your chin, thumbing his way through the apps until he finds the one he’s looking for. The camera opens up in selfie mode. You stare back at yourself in the TV’s blue glow through the dark screen. You know he loves taking pictures of you like this, a quick keepsake for when he’s on tour and missing you.

Pushing your breast out, you give him a good shot of your confided tits in the blue lingerie. Taehyung smirks against your jawline as he watches you give your best angles to the camera. He takes a few shots with you then brings the camera down to your cum-stained panties, taking a few photos of your wet slick thighs and ruined lingerie.

When he’s finally done, he tosses the phone a side and sits you down between his legs. Returning to his gaming stance, Taehyung grabs hold of his headset and puts it on. “Shut up, hyung,” he chuckles into the mic. “You’re just jealous that yours isn’t as hot as mine.”

Your jaw goes slack as he reaches for his controller. You knew they were listening, and knew he didn’t care, but his response still shocks you all the same. Taehyung pushes the mic down as Yoongi curses him in three different languages and whispers, “Spread’em, baby.”

You furrow your brows. Aflush with anger and humiliation, you question through gritted teeth, “why?”

Taehyung scoffs, rolling his eyes. “They’ll get over it,” he mutters with a new degree of arrogance, as if he himself wasn’t so embarrassed by your moans all those moments ago. “I won’t ask you again.”

You huff and spread your legs, hands still tied behind your back. You can feel his hard cock within your grasp, but don’t dare to make a move for it. Not yet, anyways.

Pushing your panties aside once more, Taehyung shoves the handle of the controller into your pussy. It’s short but thick. And though it does not fill you as well as his fingers, let alone his huge cock, you still gasp a quiet moan.

“Yeah, just like that,” he whispers into your ear. “Nice and quiet while I finish up the game. Do you think you can manage that now, babygirl?” Voice as thick and sweet as honey, you can’t help but get lost in it’s trance.

You nod immediately, quietly mumbling, “yes, sir.”

Taehyung smirks as his tattooed hands make themselves comfortable in the awkward position of the controller. You watch in awe as he plays flawlessly, despite the fact that your pussy is gripping on the other half of the handle. And everytime he loses, his avatar disappears, or misfires, the controller would vibrate, sending sudders up and down your pussy.

“Sir, please,” you sigh, sounding more desperate than when you started. “Enough games.”

“Just one last round,” he chuckles.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#changeswithluv #bangtanhq #bangtanfairygarden #btswritingcafe #btsgoldnet #maknaesmutsociety #ficswithluv #kim taehyung smut #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut

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whitehotharlots · 3 years ago

Text

A true story about rehab from 2007

Names and places changed, dates slightly fuzzy, yada yada

This all starts with Chris. Chris might be a good example of how things are objectively broken.

Two summers ago, Chris and his girlfriend moved from everyone's old hometown, Alton, to everyone's current home, Garden City. I had known Chris briefly when I still lived in Alton, which was up until about 8 years ago. In high school he was friends with my sister, a year behind her, I think, only he had some legal trouble and didn't graduate until two years after her. The first arrest came during his junior year, when police found some marijuana in his car while he was in class. "Apparently Alton is a utopia," he said years later. "No robberies need solving, no cars need ticketing, no fences need mending, fuckit nobody's house must've been dirty because if there was anything else even remotely worthwhile that those cocksuckers could have been doing they wouldn't have taken a drug dog through the high school parking lot."

The ironic part was that he was, honest-to-god, holding it for a friend. Hadn't touched the stuff until then, hadn't even drank more than a beer or two. Cops came in and pulled him out of class. Cuffed him right there in class, in front of everybody. From what I've been able to piece together that marked a very strong loss of innocence for young Chris. No rules were worth following, after all, if The Bastards could punish you for nothing. This was greatly exacerbated by the fact that, according to several of the best lawyers Alton had to offer, the search of Chris' car was unconstitutional as it was not actually parked in the school parking lot, or even on school grounds, at the time of the search. The juvenile court judge would hear none of it though—all the police had done was break Chris' constitutional right to privacy. He had committed the much greater crime of having an eighth ounce of marijuana in his glove compartment.

His claim of having his rights violated incensed the judge, who sentenced our poor Chris to 72 hours in county jail and 12 weeks of rehab. Were it not for his successful, stable family, he would have been sent to juvie.

It was his first offense. He was 16.

Jail, he said, wasn't that bad. He got to do it over a weekend. The guard was an old lady and even though she was kind of a bitch she let him bring in his homework. She said she was surprised to see someone his age in here, with the adults, but whatever he had done it must have been pretty bad or else he wouldn't be here, would he? They kept him away from the drunks at night and the only other people who came into the "pen" (his word, not mine) were guys who got bailed out within a couple of hours and were too pissed off about their own bad luck to give him any shit for his.

What really fucked with him was rehab. It didn’t matter that he'd never smoked a single joint (or even a cigarette) at this time: he was an addict and by gum he had to admit to being an addict before the obese, shit-smelling overseer would sign the form saying that Chris had attended his sessions. Every weekend for three months he was legally forced to lie. Yes, he said, he was an addict. Yes, even though it made no sense in any grammatical or even symbolic context, he was forced to say "my name is Chris and I'm a narcotic." His personal habits were picked apart—why was his hair so long (it wasn't that long, really)? Why did he wear the same pants on Sunday that he wore on Saturday? Who were these "Dead Milkmen" that his T-shirt spoke of? Ohh… and surely this is a good-tempered, Christian punk band, right? No? Well you see right there that's a part of the problem. Have your mother sign a note saying you've thrown out all of their CDs and any other enabling you might own. No—you can't sell them, you must throw them out.

"We had to go in a day and a half every weekend. All day Saturday and then Sunday from noon until 4. It took me five weeks, when I was starting to get comfortable, before I asked if I could come in Saturday afternoon and all day Sunday. It worked out better for me that way, since the place where I worked wasn't open Sundays. The fat guy just opened his mouth and would not close it. 'When would you go to church?' he said. By then I knew enough to laugh and say 'oh yeah what was I thinking.'"

A few of the people had actual problems. One guy got caught with meth, was beating the shit out of his wife and his two little girls, and seemed genuinely remorseful. Another guy had to drink a sixer every morning or else he'd get the shakes so bad he wouldn't be able to drive to work. But most of the people there were more or less normal and had either fucked up once or else been fucked over once—got into a bar fight while legally drunk, blew .02 over the legal limit at a roadblock, smoked pot once every few weeks and got narced on by a snitch, that kind of stuff. These people were split over how much they believed the bullshit they were being fed. Those who believed, as the official literature did, that being hungover once in your lifetime or ever drinking more than 4 beers in a sitting two or more times in a month are both signs of hardcore alcoholism, they became repentant and preachy.

One such lady was a thin, tan, well-dressed soccer mom who would snitch on the others when they didn't pay close enough attention to the instructional videos or else would appear in any way to not be taking things seriously enough. If you were bad you got demerits, credit card-sized pieces of construction paper upon which frowny faces and intimidating biblical verses were printed. The overseer would also scribble something down in his notebook, which must have had some kind of official weight because it was on his person at all times.

Most people have an innate desire, however illogical it might often be, to please authority figures, and so Chris and the rest of the doubtful "addicts" thought the embarrassment of getting their reprimand literally handed to them was punishment enough for resting their eyes or letting a stray giggle break loose when the acting in an informational film was especially bad. Chris made only one such mistake. During a lecture, the overseer kept making the point that it wasn't the drugs that people get addicted to—oh no, it's the high that keeps you coming back. Chris smiled—remember at this point he still probably hadn't ever been high, not in his whole life—because it seemed like such a stupid, nonsensical thing to say, because even though he was only 16 he could appreciate moments like this, when the moronic essence of a big, scary process could concentrate itself into a single sentence.

"It's not the drugs: it's the high," the man said. He was very clean shaven, dressed like a detective in a 70s cop show, his hair was combed so straight it was like wire, his glasses were round and cruel looking and he had this, this look on his face, this air about him like he thought he was a genius. He nodded a little bit after the repetition of his idiotic point. Proud—he was actually proud of the things he was saying, proud of his position, proud of getting to fill the heads of desperate or else unfortunate people with nonsense. And this made Chris smile—not laugh, just smile, and the soccer mom pulled on his ear really hard, so hard it made his eyes water, and then she raised her hand to snitch on him. The proud overseer was still proud, looked like a king in an old movie, and with the most serious air Chris had ever seen, the fat man called him up before the entire room. His eyes were still watery from the shock of having his ear nearly yanked up and so he looked down, towards the ground, so people wouldn't think he was crying.

"You ashamed of something," the fat overseer asked. Chris didn't say anything. "Look up," said the overseer. Chris kept looking down. His chest moved in and out heavily and his fists were clenched, and he wasn't sure but he may have been crying normal tears by this point, but they were out of rage, not sadness. Or—no…really what's the difference between those two, and it's impossible that the immense hopelessness of his situation and the utter retardation of his surroundings hadn't saddened somewhat. If it were just rage making him cry then he would have also lashed out, punched the overseer or at least called him a name. No. No, the hopelessness must have stung enough to make him sad. But his tears were out of rage primarily, and out of nothing even close to shame.

"Look up. Now."

He did. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were tightened into red little slits but he looked more defeated than mean, more helpless than threatening.

"I want you all to look at this face. Soak it up. Take it all in. Done? Give you another second. Okay, now you're done. This, people, is what failure looks like. Some of you will see it again, right here. This is what it looks like when you don't take yourself seriously, when you don't care enough about yourself to appreciate the chances that are being given to you."

He extended a demerit card towards the Chris’ face. It was accepted without a whimper.

Weeks later, it came time for Chris and the gang to "graduate" from their classes. By this point, Chris had gotten drunk several times (even puked, once) and tried to smoke pot a few times but it hadn't done anything to him. Maybe he was just too drunk to feel it or he wasn't inhaling right, who knows. Anyhow he figured a few bong hits wouldn't hurt before he had to show up to the ceremony, right, since he hadn't felt anything yet. And, man, it was a blast because he was high as a fucking kite at the graduation, must have shoved 20 inches worth of the party sub into his mouth and downed at least 7 flutes of sparkling grape juice.

His mother and stepfather—both stinking rich, by the way, disheartened by the lad's sudden fall from grace and more than a little pleased to see him making such a fast and exemplary recovery with the aid of such a caring and competent program—were dressed to the nines. His mom was making time with the addicts. This was her wont, the irresistible, flirty friendliness that drove her from the dregs of society (Chris' biological father) all the way to where she was today. While this was going on, Stepfather gracefully let loose to the riffraff around him all those little signs that showed that he was a kind man, but of great consequence. He'd talk about sports while stretching him arm just so, just far enough to let his fancy watch fall into view. He'd offer to lift heavy objects as an excuse to show off his bed-made tan, his gym-toned arms and back. All of your jokes made him smile, but only just long enough for you to get a glimpse of his perfectly straight, snow white teeth. Both of them kept making their way over to Chris, who had stationed himself near the concessions table, to whisper into his ear how proud they were of him for pulling himself around and hint bluntly at him still receiving for his birthday a new car. All the while, through this bleary, more-or-less with it haze, feeling content and calm with his surroundings and his high, Chris kept thinking about how much he had it made. Everyone was a sucker, it seemed, but him. Really, wow. Everyone is stupid but me.

The soccer mom cut quickly around the room, stopping alongside each cluster of people and telling them that something important was about to happen, it was time for everyone to walk into the little classroom where they normally met. "You're not gonna want to miss this" she said, looking right into Chris with a mean little smile on her face that she knew would scare him. Oh god, Chris though, she knew that he was high. What was she in here for—ooh shit man, you've heard her talk about it 100 times. Vicodin, right. Vicodin and wine, passing out while one of her kids started a fire. That's right. Calm down. She wouldn't have known what someone looked like when he was high on pot. Mom and Stepfather couldn't even tell and they saw Chris every day. Calm down.

Chris shoved a few more bites of party sub into his mouth. His mom laughed and said "getting better must make you work up an appetite, huh?" Stepfather laughed. Chris couldn't say anything, not even by the time they had walked all the way into the classroom and sat down on little folding chairs, because there was so much sandwich in his mouth. Things began to quiet down within a couple of minutes. The overseer, smiling, poked his head out of his office and waved to the small crowd. People clapped a little bit. Chris noticed that "AWARDS RECEPTION" had been written on the blackboard with colored chalk, the letters alternating blue to red, blue to red. A stack of certificates sat on the table up front. The overseer waddled to the table and gestured towards his office and a large, black policeman walked from office to the entrance. He looked all business. There was another one who poked his head out from the office and then the overseer was still smiling, like the soccer mom he was wearing big, mean, fake smile and Chris sunk into his chair and moaned a little bit because he knew he was about to get arrested, again. Arrested in front of his parents.

Mom asked stepfather what the policemen were hear for the stepfather said—ahh the great rational bastard, it was all Chris could do to stop himself from hugging him—that since this was an official presentation, court mandated and all that, they must have some cops come and witness it. That's all it was. Nothing to get too upset about. Still—gotta stay calm. If the cops took no notice of Chris then they wouldn't take any notice of his being so incredibly fucking high.

"Well," the overseer began. Chris was hyperobservant and noncritical and he realized for the first time how long it took the overseer to get through sentences, because of all of his fat. He'd pause every few words and take in a deep breath from his gut. When he spoke it was in these bursts that were effeminately condescending but still bulky and powerful. Like, if being told you were bad by a sharp-tongued gay man didn't hurt you then maybe being yelled at by an abusive gym coach would. Only he wasn't a gym coach and probably wasn't gay, either. Talked about his wife and kids all the time. This was an act. He had measured out this persona for himself. This was some kind of cruel professionalism.

Jesus, Chris thought to himself. Pot fucks up the way you think about things. How long had it been since they sat down? How long since he'd been scared by the cops? When was the guy going to start talking—ohh, wait he's already talking. Might want to listen:

"And this is what this program is supposed to achieve: smiling faces. Not just the smiling faces of those who are on roads to recovery—their own personal roads—but of their families and their friends. The selfishness might end here. The pain they have caused you, that they are sorry for, might end here. But it's up to everyone here to make sure that all of these faces keep smiling."

He paused—too long. Wanted people to clap for him. They did. Then they finished. He continued. His tone was different. He had sounded like he was reading off a card. Now he sounded more like he normally did, during classes.

"But it would be… hypocritical of me to let everyone who came here leave here, especially… if I knew that they would be making people start… to cry sometime soon. Two of our friends will not be graduating today."

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

"The first… Rup-ERT Donwiddle."

Ahh. Okay. That guy—white guy, lots of scars—never even showed up after the first day. He wasn't even here. Chris sunk his head into his lap, like he was stretching or about to puke, while the overseer mumbled about how Rubert had squandered his chance for recovery and blah blah blah.

"Rufus failed… due to lack of initiative. He didn't come. But every time we have this course, it seems… there is someone who does come… but who shows such disrespect that he might as well not have"

The overseer's tone changed, again, abruptly but not in a way that seemed unplanned. He was talking somewhere in between the rehearsed tone he'd used earlier and the mumbling, jumbled tone he used during regular meetings. The air shifted around Chris. It felt like strategy, men moving into position in order to accomplish some kind of task or anticipate some kind of resistance. The bigger cop stood by the door that led to the outside, blocking it. Meanwhile the guys who had missed the most class and been handed the most demerits began to shift in their seats a little bit while their wives looked at them in white fear, the sterile blank walls felt like they were closing in—that's what expression actually meant, when it actually feels like the room you are in just got smaller, more oppressive—and the big fat fuck who ran the place worse the biggest fatfuck smile Chris had ever seen and he if had dropped dead of a heart attack no one with a mind or soul would have gotten up to help him. In spite of all of this, the synchronization was such that Chris couldn't work up any fear. He was too busy admiring the evil of the whole process.

Chris took to talking to the soccer mom, a few months later, as part of some revenge scheme that never quite materialized. He had first planned on sleeping with the woman and ruining her marriage. When that didn’t work out he thought about maybe figuring out the vulnerabilities of her home and passing that knowledge on to some unseemly sorts who, god willing, would have raped, robbed, and kill her. He didn't do that, though, for the same reason he didn't speak up during the meeting when the police were blocking off the door and overseer was smiling the very worst smile the world had ever seen: because the woman's evil was so immense that he could barely process it, could do little else, in fact, aside from sitting back and admiring it. What he learned from her, after she had opened up to him and filled him on all the details, was that if you didn't pass the rehab course it counted as either a violation of your parole or else as a violation of your court sentence, so your failure was akin to skipping bail trying to escape from prison. That's to say it was a Very Serious offense, one that could put you in prison for a long, long time. And what the overseer hadn't told to anybody but the soccer mom, who was his favorite, was that his policy was that out of every class there had to be at least one addict who failed to pass in spite of showing up, one person who because of this or that reason simply did not deserve to consider his or her self cured of their addiction. That's what the demerits were for. Whoever got the most failed the course. You couldn't tell the whole class about this since then the people who got the most demerits early on would have stopped coming all together. On top of that, if you got into a situation where a few weeks in one guy had racked up 20 or 30 demerits, then that more or less lightens the stakes for everyone else. They'll start mouthing off or falling asleep since they know they'll never make up enough demerits to catch the worst guy, and then by the end of it you'd have been better off not doing any sort of demerit system at all. No—no, the trick was to keep it a surprise. That had two positives: one, you catch the guy by surprise and make sure he gets what's coming to him. Two, you put the fear of god into the others who are all sitting around watching. That's when they got taught what happens if you don't respect the things you should.

All Chris knew at the time of meeting was that the balding factory worker, Hank was his name, was getting pulled up really unnecessarily roughly by the cop, had his arms thrown behind his back, and was getting cuffed and pushed out of the room while his teenage daughter was screaming in abject terror and his wife was burying her head in her hands and then the two women sat there while the smiling overseer berated Hank, talked about how he needed to learn how to accept help and how this was for the good of him and his family and You two ladies should stop crying, it's pointless, what you need right now is strength, loyalty, and conviction. Hank had blown .02 over the legal limit at a road block. He insisted he hadn't had a drop to drink in months, not since his first DUI, that he couldn't perform the heel-to-toe sobriety test successfully because of a fully documented injury he had sustained during Desert Storm and that the alcohol on his breath—which came up on only one of the 5 breathalyzers he was given—must have been from gum or mouthwash or cologne or something. His parole was zero tolerance, though, and so he found himself at the meetings. Every week he told the overseer that something he had said was bullshit. He wouldn't say "My name is Hank and I'm a narcotic," he said, because that is just fucking stupid. He wouldn't apologize for hurting anybody because he hadn't hurt anybody. He wouldn't lie for the sake of lying because goddamn it that's not what this country is about.

And for that he went to prison.

Coming face-to-face with the reality of just how cruel and unfair the system is can, especially for a teenager, lead to a distrust so strong and all encompassing that it borders on despair. This distrust can, sometimes, be healthy and inspire you to try and change things. More often, it can grow into full-blown hatred, a maniacal desire to change things or to right wrongs that leads you to do something rash or destructive. Still more often, it leads to a sense of defeatism, a feeling that you can't win since the system is so fucked so why the hell should you even try. At least, that's what I gather from hearing Chris talk about it. That's probably what I would have done if something like that would have happened to me. I would have given up and failed.

And for the longest time Chris had given up and had failed. He drank and drugged and destroyed. This made him a blast to hang out with. This was when he still lived in Alton and I would see him once every few months, when I was at home visiting my family. My sister moved to Garden City to attend the university at which I now teach. Most of her friends soon followed suit. He was left behind. As I am self-absorbed to the point where I don't care about my friend's lives except for when their stories are particularly miserable or amusing, I don't know much about this time period except that it saw Chris turning things somewhat around. Not by much. He still drinks far too much. But he's in school now—he's at the school where I teach, actually, although I've never had him for a student.

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