#which again in the long run i think is stupidly innocent

[charmac]

Not tagging this properly but I do want to contribute my loser thoughts about showergate from earlier. (Ironically, Macden brainrot has been so abysmally all-consuming for me today that I haven’t been on Tumblr at all, just in notes app and dms ranting and writing like a lunatic.)

I think it’s funny to gossip about rcg privately (Tumblr untagged (or really tagged let’s be real) included). They were best friends in their twenties, they were close, and there were girls there it doesn’t have me too fried at all… but i want the CONTEXT. How did they get there, why did they even… what situation gets you naked in a sexless shower? How big was the fucking shower???

Anyway I had a good giggle to myself listening to that walking through the goddamn airport at 7am. No drama, no controversy, just gossiping with my circle of friends (sunny enjoyers i mostly don’t know at all) and thinking thoughts. It’s innocent, but i’m dying for context though i’ll never ask for it to an actual audience (or get it).

Also seeing you guys pull out Sunny parallels is fucking icing on the cake, great work team.

[holybibly]

♡ 𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: Innocent nerd Seonghwa х reader ♡ 𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Gentle, shy nerd Seonghwa has a stupidly huge dick and all you can think about is how much you want him to completely destroy your pussy, but there are two problems: One, he's a virgin, and two, his huge, innocent, sparkling eyes. ♡ 𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 / 𝔄𝔲 / 𝔗𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔢: smut, University!AU ♡ ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI ♡ 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: ? ♡ 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Shy Virgin! Seonghwa, soft!reader, unprotected sex, first time, lots of sperm, fingering, pet names, size kink, creampie, boobs sucking, nipple play, dirty talk, pussy drunk, pussy eating, overstimulation, oral, multiple orgasms, praise kink, wet and dirty, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and more. ♡ ��|𝔑: Rose Prick: (slang) pretty pink dick. Penis of overly pretty, handsome or feminine boy. And I remind you, bunnies, that I am very unpredictable, so never judge me too soon.

You try to ignore how Seonghwa's big, shining eyes focus on your breasts, his long lashes flutter, and the tip of his sharp tongue flicks between his excessively puffy pink lips, and you swallow, feeling the mucus run out of your warm, silky pussy, making your panties noticeably wet from Hwa's seemingly so simple action. It was almost embarrassing—the way an innocent look could make you so wet and hot for him. 

"Your titties look so full and soft." Seonghwa whispered, and a dark pink blush spread over his beautiful cheeks. 'Can I touch them?" The tone of his voice is so sweet, as if Seonghwa is talking about flowers and butterflies and not about your breasts. 

You gasp slightly at his words, squirming in your seat and squeezing your thighs harder, hoping to relieve the pressure that has begun to build up between your legs. The thin French lace of your panties rubs lightly against your clit from your movements, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud. The mere thought of Seonghwa wanting to touch your breasts makes you shudder, causing a real internal crisis as he continues to gaze at you with the waiting, glistening eyes of a doe, waiting for you to respond to him, seemingly oblivious to your condition. 

'May I, please?' Seonghwa asks again, fluttering his long, fluffy eyelashes at you, and you melt away. How can you say no to him when he is asking you so sweetly?

"Yes, you can touch my boobs." You barely a whisper as you slowly undo more of the buttons on your blouse, exposing your plump tits, which are covered by a lace bra with lovely frills. 

Seonghwa, smiling shyly, reached for your breasts and cupped the soft mound, causing you to gasp barely audibly. You really weren't mentally prepared for this; Seonghwa's hand is warm and big, your tit fits almost completely in his palm, and that's enough to make more mucus run out of your pussy. 

Your tits have always been very sensitive, and you could easily come just from stimulating them. Which doesn't help you at the moment, especially when Seonghwa decides to touch your other tit as well. His hands massage and squeeze the tender flesh through your bra, a little rough and clumsy, but with an enthusiasm that is almost childish. Long fingers are boldly pushing down the cups of your bra down, almost exposing your nipples so that he can get a better feel for your tits. 

"They're so soft and heavy." You bite your lips to stop yourself moaning because it feels so damn good. Your round cheeks were so hot and red when you noticed how Seonghwa was looking at your tits; his beautiful lips were parted and glistening with saliva, and his big eyes were filled with admiration. 

And it made you want more, so you put your hands behind your back, unhooked your bra, and pulled it off completely, together with your blouse. The cool air was licking at your nipples, making them even harder than they already were from Seonghwa's actions so far.

Seonghwa's Adam's apple twitches as he swallows before he wraps his hands around your now naked tits once more and crushes them roughly in the palms of his hands. You let out a scream at this treatment, but you say nothing and let Hwa play with your breasts the way he wants to. You feel the rough pad of his thumb run over the sensitive nipple of your breast. 

"It feels so good; your tits are like pillows, soft and warm." Seonghwa cooed. He pinched your nipples between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, rubbing and pinching on the dark pink buds. He doesn't seem to be aware of the state you're in right now, as he works you to the fullest and enjoys the feel of your heavy, plump tits in his hands. 

This time you don't hold back; you moan loudly, arching your back and pushing your tits even harder into Seonghwa's hands as the handsome boy twists your nipples sharply between his fingers. You squeeze your thighs together even harder. The painful sensation of pleasure coursing through your body makes your hole tremble, and more viscous, clear mucus comes out. A puddle of liquid lust is building up in your panties, making them uncomfortably sticky to the touch. Seonghwa probably has no idea what he's doing to your body and how his touch is making you crave his cock inside you. 

"S-Songhwa, you have to be more gentle...I'm sensitive...' You stutter slightly as you wrap your fingers around his wrist, stopping him from moving and drawing his attention to you. "If you want to play with my nipples, you have to be gentle. Do you understand?" 

Seonghwa tilts his head slightly to the side, looking at you with glassy, bambi eyes as if pondering something, before a shy smile appears on his lips and his cheeks seem to turn even more red than before. 

"Can I take it in my mouth?" He asks in a soft, velvety voice, and you think you might explode. Hell, you wanted Seonghwa to be less innocent right now, but you'll work on that, won't you? You decide to be brave as you raise your hand to his handsome face and run your fingers over his puffy lips, which are slightly parted, and press them lightly into his moist, warm mouth. Unconsciously, Seonghwa immediately closes his lips around your fingers and starts to suck on them. This only confirms your thoughts that cute Park Seonghwa has a strong oral fixation. 

"Yes, Hwa, you can take them in your mouth; you can even lick and suck them." With those words, your fingers slip out of his mouth, glistening and wet with his saliva, and Seonghwa leans down to your breasts before those sensual, slutty lips cling to your swollen, candy-pink bud. "Oh, fuck..." You almost gasp for breath as the sensation of that soft, slippery tongue cupping your sensitive nipple sends shivers down your spine. Seonghwa wraps one hand around your boobs, supporting it as his tongue rubs sensually over your nipple, while his other hand slides down your body until you can feel it resting on your bare waist, making your skin tingle where he touches it.

Your hands cling to Seonghwa's shoulders as the beautiful brunette sucks your breasts sweetly, almost childishly, swallowing the tender flesh and moaning softly with pleasure, covering his large, glistening eyes. He continues to run his tongue greedily over the soft skin of your breasts while his other hand gently squeezes your waist. Your breathing speeds up, your mouth opens in a low moan, and Seonghwa gently bites down on your nipple with his perfect teeth, accompanied by wet, lapping sounds. 

You feel a new stream of mucus pouring out of your pussy; your panties are soaked through, and you won't be surprised if you start to drip through the fabric soon. You whimper, with each passing minute, the desire to be filled, to feel how your pussy is stretching around Seonghwa's big, thick cock until it's almost painful. And you don't even know if you'll be able to take his whole cock in your cunt the first time.

You'd heard the rumours going around the university—the gentle, shy, cutie Park Seonghwa had a stupidly huge and thick cock. And maybe you'd even let it go if one of your friends who took swimming lessons in the same class with Seonghwa hadn't confirmed it. 

And damn, you couldn't wait to have a look at it and a taste of it in person.

[samodivaa]

┊Impure Thoughts┊

《Part 2┊ Reader x Bucky Barnes?

Bucky is getting more comfortable with going out without the prosthetic. You are getting a little too comfortable with the idea of using it...as a pleasure tool.

Warnings - smut, metal dildo lmao?, mastrubation (f), fingering Words - 1700 ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ In the living room, you are settled on the couch with your book, but you pause halfway through reading a sentence when it finally sinks in. You have unconsciously placed yourself directly across the room from the armchair, and something seems to be filling your entire field of vision—Bucky’s metal arm—pitifully, the first coherent thought that emerges, is undoubtedly something that you have been thinking about these past weeks—you grind your teeth and chew your tongue. That is followed closely by the realization that this is probably an instinctual reaction born out of being alone for too long. Right? The thought has you swallowing hard while you feet the beginnings of arousal, you shift uncomfortably, crossing your ankles—the beginning of the end. Here it is again: that feeling of complete addiction, of an irrational kink, need. A craving, a thirst, blood rushing to your ears to chant in your mind once again: God, I want to try it.

Your eyes flicker between the book and the prosthetic. A ripple of gooseflesh erupts down your whole body and you squeeze your eyes shut in mortification, you even change positions and straighten your back, leading to several cracks up your spine. Why did he need to leave his prosthetic arm on the armchair?

You feel your jaw slacken. The inevitable desire floods your brain too quickly, irritation prickling at your chest. “He is not coming home tonight…” you note mentally with a magnanimous twinkle of your eyes. Two identical streaks of pink appear on your cheek and you avert your gaze, shaking your head. You have imagined what it might be like to use it as a pleasure tool countless times, but you have never considered that you would actually be bold enough to do it. But even as that transient thought flits through your brain, the image of your legs spread while fucking yourself on it…the fantasy swirls hazy— This is so wrong, but you are so exhilarated by it—but it’s akin to torture. You rub your eyes and try to focus on the letters and shapes, but it is difficult.

"Right," you mumble to yourself, trailing your fingertip under the sentence to steady your gaze "The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment…”

Fuck…

You have already read that sentence twice.

You attempt a denial, tongue stuck to your teeth “Some things are beyond help” you confess, smothering a yawn into your sleeve. You sigh impatiently, but get up from the couch nonetheless. As you head to the bedroom, you stupidly lean your body in the door frame, attempting to dispel the notion that you are so turned on just thinking about it. You let out a stealthy, thin smile, but you instinctually clasp a hand over your mouth. You stare intently into the prosthetic. Head clouding. Heart taking off again. It is not that you don’t want to do it now—it is more like you don’t want your little bubble to pop just yet, the bubble of your innocence. You have finally just given up on the feeble attempt to get your body and mind to settle down to sleep. Your phone, which you have ignored for some time by then, buzzes with a new text. The phone on the coffee table buzzes yet again, but you don’t even acknowledge it.

You make your breaths as quiet as possible, managing to walk over to the armchair without making the faintest noise. A growling soft leaves your throat, followed by an annoyed moan—mentally swooning at the idea you will actually do it this time. Instantly, you feel your blood run cold, and your face immediately falls. Embarrassment, that is all, just sheer and utter embarrassment as you find yourself caught in the act.

Quickly, you let out a nervous laugh, amused by your own antics.

“It's okay, no one will ever find out” you are quick to try to convince yourself, to urge yourself to take the opportunity. You lost in the end. You get on your knees in front of the armchair, leaning down to get in eye level with it before your hand reaches out and finds the metal fingers, using the pad of your thumb to brush against vibranium there. You lace the cold fingers with yours, they move so easily. …you didn’t know that. You are far too entranced by the arm, that you have forgotten about the appendage pressed in between your thighs, until you shift a bit. Instantly, you feel that spot between your legs head up even more and that reminds you of the throbbing sensation you have been ignoring. You apply pressure with your free hand, prying a sharp exhale from your own lips, finding relief on the soft carpeted floor, and spreading your legs—but still the wetness between your legs is growing, and it is unbearable. You whimper as your fingers press into the clit. You start to rub circles into it as you soak the fabric. But you need more, it’s not enough. That's why you reach down and grab the fabric of your panties in between shaky fingers and gently pull it to the side, rapturously rubbing without the fabric in the way. No, this is not enough. Hands are shaking with desperation.

One by one, you place your fingers in your mouth and lick them before running them up and down your slit, finding yourself instinctually moving quicker. You slid one finger inside, shivering a little at the feeling. It is quickly followed by a second, then a third. You jolt in pleasure when your fingers nudge up against the spot. With newfound vigour, you finger yourself even harder. Your body fizzes with a heady sensuality, where you are constantly in the process of getting aroused, bringing yourself closer to an euphoric climax, but you don’t really want to orgasm like that.

You have such an unambiguously bad feeling—awful, really—but you couldn't look away, couldn't stop. But the nearness, the possibility of this fantasy becoming reality, it has dwelled in you for too long. Every embarrassment is forgotten. It has seized hold of your heart: desire is terrible. Your insides clench longingly at need to be filled, practically singing at the thought of something being buried within you. Your hand moves alternately in a frantic blur, then achingly slow, edging closer and closer, fingers are buried deep inside you while the thumb rubs your clit and lips, with you being so wet that you can hear your fingers' movement, but—No, no, no, this is not enough—the fingers are still inside you, moving in a now broken rhythm before stopping completely. You are so tight around your own fingers, how will you feel around the metal ones? You have fantasised about this more than once.

You have touched yourself to that fantasy more than once. “Jesus…I might actually do it” It is unusual to be so nervous, but the words that come out of your sweet lips cut off any rational thoughts you have. Then the inevitable—your pussy throbs at the idea. A reflex, a response, a curse. 

It is actually rather exciting that no-one will see you. You take a deep shuddering breath, eyes are stormy with a ravenous hunger. There are resolved cracks as your desires win this time. You latch onto the index metal finger hungrily and suck it like it's the sweetest treat, staying still for just a second before moving up and down, tongue swirling around the cold digit. Then, wrapping your tongue around a second finger and tasting the slightly metal tangy taste of the vibranium. You bend the fingers of your other hand in that come-hither motion again and again until your cunt is squirting out onto the hand in a stream of clear wetness.

Shit.

Suddenly, you get up and snatch the prosthetic from the armchair, heading to the bedroom.

Your lip quivers as you drink the sight of the arm onto the mattress, all the while loosening your panties and Bucky’s t-shirt you love to wear, but not now—whining through the back of your throat and then heaved breaths through your nose—What, what are you doing? Your mind whirres; you can hear your own heartbeat, your palms are clammy. You take the lube before laying on the bed, squeezing some onto your fingers and applying some to and inside of yourself before you start fingering yourself, spreading yourself open and sliding your fingers inside once again. Breathy little noises, helplessly turned on, you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking into it as you turn your gaze to the metal prosthetic. “Okay…” you murmur quietly, shifting a little so you can grab the arm with both hands and finally align it with your entrance. You are beyond ready.

“H-holy shit…” you pant as the cold surface of the fingers lightly touches the sensitive skin of your stretched hole, and you moan shamelessly, squeezing your eyes shut and arching into the feeling as your skin erupts in goosebumps, unwilling to acknowledge the frissons of pleasure washing over you with each flick of the metal. Anger boils in your stomach as well as a fair bit of shame, because you are not sure if it will fit—it's way too big. You want to come on the metal, want to feel the coldness, but your face contorts in both pain as much as pleasure as you try to push it inside more. You make a strange whining sound, desperate to come, desperate to fit it beyond the knuckles—you gasp out when you begin to move it, thrusting in and out in a slow, grinding motion. You finally look down when you finally fit in more of it—your mouth hangs open and your limbs feel like they are frozen. You have made a terrible decision, you know you have when you see blue eyes illuminated with curiosity, horror…? 

“H-hey” you speak airly, shivering and groaning faintly as his coveting blue eyes meet yours.

Oh yes, you didn't check your phone.

⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ might write a part two, i personally need more metal arm stuff fr :0

《Part 2

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Butterfly I

a/n I'm clawing my way into this fandom since salt and pepper god took over my brain! Be gentle with me since it's my first time writing for this man! Happy reading! 🤍

summery: When Joel thinks that his life is over his little butterfly sends him a new reason to stay alive. The only problem is that he doesn't know how to love but when you are the meaning of love itself how can he not fall.

Part II can be found on my blog

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

World had ended twenty years ago for Joel. Even more so, he was sure that he had died alongside Sarah. If he had a chance, he would have gladly been buried by his little girl. He didn't have a reason to be alive. Well, there was Tommy, but at that moment even that didn't seem like enough to keep him going. The moment Joel failed to do his first and most important job—protect the ones he loved—changed him without a chance of going back.

The morals had to die soon as well, and Joel had learned it the hard way. He tried to fight and protect the innocent at first. To stupidly ensure that everyone had been taken care of in the same amounts. Well, that resulted in him getting beaten multiple times. He didn't fight it at first. The physical pain numbed the emotional scars. But then something snapped in him, and he longed for the first blow. Then the second. Third. With a realization that this was how his sorry life was going be for the rest of his pointless existence. To fear less, Joel needed to become someone people feared, and he did just that.

Until, after one of his deals, he ended up running into you. Completely by accident as he tried to get away from the people he just had business with. Joel bumped into you, knocking you to the ground and causing you to hit your head on the pavement. "Shit, fuck", the male kneeled beside you cursing. You just laid there, and for a split second, Joel was convinced that you had died, until you let out a growl as you moved your hand to gently touch your pounding head. He debated whether he should just leave you there or take you back to his place. The first option was less complicated and demanded fewer efforts from him, but when he saw your eyes as you tried to look around, seeking to find who had caused such a collision, that's when he knew he couldn't just walk away like that.

Then a smile crept onto your face, followed by a light chuckle, and something inside Joel twisted again. He hadn't heard the sound of laughter in years. "Dang, for a moment I saw white horses running around", you laughed out loud, covering your eyes with your hands. Even more, concern washed over Joel. Had you hit your head that hard? He couldn't afford to get you medication or even a doctor for that. So he did the next best thing - assisted you in getting up and walking you to his place.

Everything after that was made up of Joel trying to hurt you so you would leave him and go your way. He desperately wanted to push you out of his life because he was afraid to admit that Sarah would have loved you. That she would have been nagging him constantly to bring you around. Imagining how life would have been with you before the outbreak. How would it have felt to come home to you making dinner? Hearing you and Sarah laughing together. Joel knew—he knew without even needing to think about it much—that his daughter would have loved you. He wished she had had the opportunity to experience your motherly love. The effortless, endless love that poured from within you. And finally, have a truly normal family built on love.

After all, Joel was convinced that Sarah had sent you to him herself. As if it was her way of making sure, even from heaven, which Joel barely believed in, that her father lived. Not just used up air and wasted his days away but found something to live for. You angrily bandaged Joel's arm one evening after yet another deal had ended poorly, leaving the man with a nasty cut on his forearm. Well, if he could even call that anger. Joel doubted you had that emotion implanted in your brain. You had pushed up your sleeves, not wanting the ends of them to get damp as you moved back and forth between a bowl of warm water and a cloth to clean the blood off his skin. That was the first time Joel saw the ink on your body. A butterfly, and then another one just above the first one.

Joel thought he imagined it at first. He knew he must have looked like a lunatic to you when he gripped your left hand firmly before pushing the material of your sleeve even further up. Three butterflies. All inching further up and up. Butterflies. Sarah loved them; she was Joel's little butterfly. The butterfly that got crushed by the brutality of this world.

"Joel," you carefully mumbled as his fingers traced the tattoos. A flicker of what was behind the mask flashed in his eyes. You knew that he was a broken man. People talked, and even if half of what they were saying was true, it was a lot to go through. Especially alone. Especially after losing the main purpose of your world. "This… when did you get this?", his words came out harsh, as if you should have felt guilty, "Not long before the outbreak. It just…", you giggled to yourself, "Feels silly now that they symbolize growth, a new beginning, and shit". However, it didn't seem stupid to Joel even if he had yanked the cloth out of your hand, pushing you out of the bathroom. Emotions took control of him. He couldn't love you. Couldn't stand you. But the way you kept knocking at the door, concern in your voice as you pleaded with him to let you in, only proved what he already knew. You two had found someone to hold onto. As scary as it may sound.

When Ellie first met you, she couldn't believe that you two were even here and had somehow mutually agreed on something. It seemed impossible to her. You were the polar opposite in her eyes. From the moment in the hallway when Joel had yanked her against the wall, you had warned the male as you leaned over to the girl. Ellie backed away at first, but it's like you had a magical touch, and not even a blink later, she was clinging to you as if you were the last straw for her survival. Joel had only grumbled more at the sight of that. "Get your hands off her," he said, motioning with the gun for the girl to move away, but all you did was tilt your head to the side, giving him one of those looks. "Joel…" you warned him, before turning your attention to the girl, "I'm Y/N, and that's Joel. He's always grumpy. It comes with age, so don't pay too much attention to him." For a moment, Ellie got scared that the gun might now end up being pointed at you, but the male only tightened his jaw before lowering the weapon. And that didn't change when you crossed the wall. You were there talking with her, making sure that she was okay, ensuring that Ellie's desire to communicate was satisfied, while Joel just frowned.

"Here you are", Joel's voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you smiled at him softly. You had just made your way to the safe house. Days of traveling rubbed off on all of you, so you were more than happy to indulge in some peace. "Was wondering where you crept away", even if Joel was 99 percent sure that he was going to find you here once he didn't find you in the dining room. It only took one look outside to know you'd be on the patio. Curled up on the bench watching the sunset. Any time you came by Bill's and Frank's, you always spent your evenings there.

"Missed the view," you mumble, resting your chin on your knees, "Or maybe the fact that there is nothing to fear here." Joel moved to sit next to you. His own eyes admired the view. He stopped doing stuff like this. Before the outbreak, it was work, work, work to keep a roof over everyone's heads, bring food, and give Sarah the best life that she deserved. After… well, moments like this felt almost forbidden. Not to mention that letting your guard down could get you killed. "Come here," Joel said, nudging your shoulder and wrapping his arm around you. Interactions like that between the two of you were rear but not completely foreign. You two had shared the bed numerous times. Joel had offered you a warm embrace when he saw that the world was close to crushing you. But you had never talked about who you two were or if you were anything more than a bed warmer for one another. "You do know that I would do anything to protect you?", Joel spoke out under his breath, bringing you even closer to him. Your heart skipped a beat as you moved your palm to cup his jaw, leaving a couple of kisses there as you nodded.

"Do you think they were happy when they…", you couldn't bring yourself to finish your sentence as the lump in your throat grew bigger. Joel hummed, "They had each other. That's all Bill and Frank needed". You moved to rest your head on Joel's shoulder. Breathing in both the scent of him and the brisk evening breeze. "Do you ever dream about finding the love they had?", the question was silly, truly, and you knew it. You and your existential questions had pissed Joel off more than once, but for some reason, you never stopped asking them. And for some reason, even through gritted teeth, Joel always answered them. The silence fell between you two for a moment. Joel hesitated to give you an answer. The truth was that the ten years you'd spent by his side had been surreal for him. Even if he constantly pushed you away, no matter the arguments you two would have, he always came back to you. Always. And you never walked away. You were always there waiting for him, even when he quite literally told you to get lost. When you were apart, all Joel could think of, was you. Nothing else mattered. He didn't matter. It was you who swirled around his mind. "Well," the male trailed off, "I've already…" But the door on the patio shot open as Ellie walked out, still looking down at the drawing on the shirt you had found for her.

"Hey, did you know that wild berry soup smells like strawberries?", she beamed till her eyes fell on the two of you. Her face instantly shifted since she had never seen you two this close. Well, she assumed that you might be together, but since she didn't see any grown-up interactions being exchanged, she just pushed that thought to the side. "Shit man, you are together. I was talking shit about him to you," Ellie practically cried out as she raised her hands above her head, making you let out a laugh against Joel's shoulder. "We're not dating, bug", "She talked shite about me?" you and Joel said at the same time. The fact that he had gotten visibly offended by it made you let out another chuckle before you tapped his chest a couple of times.

"Girls have to stick together," you shrugged, and Ellie quickly gave Joel the middle finger. "Okay, enough, you two. Go insane, pick something for dinner, and I'll be right behind you," you said, throwing the blanket you had with at the girl, as ushered Ellie inside. You brushed your hand over Joel's chest as you walked towards the door. Joel's brain screamed at him to catch your hand. To make you stop so he could tell you the words he was meaning to say before Ellie walked in, but he didn't. Only tightening his jaw as his lips thinned into a tight line. He was a fool. A true fool who never truly learned to express himself. If only he could, maybe he would be able to call you his.

Joel's gaze immediately shifted to the window that peaked into the inside of the house once the sound of something falling echoed through the air. You and Ellie were on different sides of the island. The girl had one of those smirks that usually led nowhere good on her face. Then the sound of laughter shot through the space as you took off running to grab hold of whatever Ellie was holding in her hands. The girl squealed as you both ran in circles. "Give me the spaghetti hoops, you little thief!", you yelled, but that only made Ellie laugh more. "I'll tell Joel", you tried to threaten her, but she only let out a huff, "You wouldn't snitch", Ellie narrowed her eyes at you. You quickly hopped onto the island and slid to the other side, taking hold of both of Ellie's hands but losing your balance as you two tumbled to the ground. Joel practically ran inside at the sight of that, the worst scenarios already running wild. He couldn't let you get hurt. Neither of you could get hurt.

Joel rounded the corner, his heart already beating fast. And here you were. Ellie was nearly on top of you as you, as you two stared at each other, both still confused at what had just happened. And then there it was again. The laughter. The whole-hearted laughter drenched Joel's heart dry. Your arms wrapped around Ellie as she giggled away, pressing her cheek against your chest. Joel picked up the can of spaghetti hoops that had rolled off and were long forgotten. "Oh no, daddy is here, and he is mad," Ellie shrieked playfully, not lifting her head away from you. "Don't call me that shit," Joel warned her before slamming the can against the counter. He quickly turned around, running a hand over his face. Your expression clouded as well. Carefully, you helped Ellie stand up. Her eyes were looking at you as if she were silently asking if she had overstepped a boundary, but you just gave her a quick wink before pointing to the pot. In a couple of steps, you reached Joel as your hands ran down his back. His muscles tensed under your touch, but the moment you pressed a kiss in between his shoulder blades, Joel let out a sigh. "How about you take a shower while we heat up the food? Clear your mind and all that?", you continued to draw patterns on his skin. Joel didn't say anything as he stepped away from you and over to the stairs.

"Is he mad with me?", Ellie's voice made you turn to her. Her big eyes watched you as you shook your head. "He… well, Joel struggles with his emotions. He cares a lot, but that ends up overwhelming him, and then this happens," you said softly, Ellie nodded her head as if agreeing with you. You nudged her shoulder gently and asked, "Want to make the whole feast tonight? Get the canned sausages out." The shower was indeed all that Joel needed. The hot water took that extra weight of tension off his shoulders, and the fresh set of clothes made him feel like a new man. He was excellent at ignoring his basic needs, but with you, there was no need to worry about that because you always reminded him about all the little things. Things to made him feel better.

Ellie was delivering joke after joke while you all ate. Her energy was surprisingly high, considering that the last couple of days had been rough. "I'm telling you, he just knows all the jokes", she grumbled when Joel hit the right answer to her fifth joke, defeating the purpose of her performance. Joel's hand had slipped under the table, casually resting on your thigh, and you occasionally gave it a little squeeze as if to ensure him that you were here with him. "Okay, can I try?", you weren't much of a jokester, but everyone knew a joke or two. Ellie nodded her head eagerly. You cleared your throat, "What do you call a fish with a bow tie?" You questioned the two of them, trying not to break into a smile. Ellie shrugged her shoulders. "SoFISHticated," Ellie just gaped at you, but Joel snorted under his breath. Your eyes fall on him in an instant. He shook his head, trying to keep the smile off his face. "You laughed, you fucker," Ellie said, pointing her fork at Joel. "I didn't," Joel argued back, "Yes, you fucking did. Y/N tell him", "Yeah, Joel, I consider that a laugh", you moved your hand to gently rub the back of his neck, and his eyes met yours. He got lost in the depths of them just a bit before another laugh escaped his lips. You bit your lip as you watched him, realizing how much you had missed the sound of that. Since the only time you heard it was when the two of you got shitface drunk, and he fell while trying to take his pants off.

"You can fucking laugh. Dude, you're normal," Ellie beamed, watching Joel chuckle. "Eat your noodles before I take them away," Joel warned, reaching over and scooping some of the spaghetti hoops from Ellie's plate, making her protest straight away. She leaned across the table to do the same, but Joel brushes her spoon away easily. "No playing with the food, you two," you gently warn them, even though you enjoyed watching them interact, especially Joel letting her in. They instantly settle back down, even if they continue to watch one another from the corner of their eyes.

Yeah, this was the closest to home that Joel had gotten in over twenty years. Now all he needed to do was own up to his feelings. Admit to himself that the scary feelings won't disappear. But he was going to be equally scared with you or without your officially being a part of his life. And he had promised Sarah, his little butterfly, that he wasn't going to let this go to waste. And that the three butterflies on your hand were possibly you, Joel, and Ellie; that you were all fated to meet. Maybe you two were sent here to change his life. Teach Joel how to fly again.

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

https://www.tumblr.com/rise-my-angel/740720343328686080/the-new-hotd-trailer-has-reminded-me-how-badly?source=share.

1. Jaehaera was not raped...

2. Rhaenyra was having a breakdown on Dragonstone after learning about Luke's death when she received Daemon's letter stating that he would avenge Luke (the letter doesn't even explain how he would avenge Luke). How is that her fault?

3. Aegon is also a rapist in the books, it's not an invention by the writers.

"Who are you?" [Helaena] demanded of the two. "Debt collectors," said Cheese. "An eye for an eye, a son for a son. We only want the one, t' square things. Won't hurt the rest o' you fine folks, not one lil' hair. Which one to you want t' lose Your Grace?" Cheese warned the queen to make a choice soon, before Blood grew bored and raped her little girl. Strange to say, the ratcatcher and the butcher were true to their word. They did no further harm to Queen Helaena and her surviving children. (Fire and Blood: The Dying of the Dragons - A Son for a Son)

You're right anon, Jaehaera was never raped, it was only threatened to hurry Helaena along. I don't understand why TG stans want to add to this event so badly, it's already horrific. It's actions like that which show how GRRM is once again choosing to have morally gray protagonists. TB is in the right about the Dance and who they're supporting, but that doesn't mean their heroes or even morally good in their actions.

It's interesting how op decided to complain that Aegon might be portrayed as incompetent. Aegon was incompetent in the book, so incompetent he was murdered by his own supporters. He's remembered as being one of the most useless kings of Westeros. Saying they're going to dumb him down to make Rhaenyra look better shows how op has never read the book, or even Aegon's wiki lmao.

Further proving my point is the stupidly blind argument of how Aegon "isn't a rapist in the book". The delusion of the TG stans is neverending.

I think the most incredible take in this post is how apparently, in the eyes of op, Criston isn't an incel in season one?? Did we watch the same show? Criston makes the immediate turn to hating Rhaenyra and literally killing people associated with her family after she rejects him. He makes hating her his entire personality for the whole ass show once she refuses to run away with him. He thinks he's entitled to Rhaenyra's entire life and body just because she slept with him once. He's the definition of an incel, go cry about it greenies.

B&C was done without Rhaenyra's knowledge or approval, as you said. Daemon acted on his own (he is a true gray character). She was separated from Daemon when he made his choice, so she had even less control over what he did. Added to that is how Rhaenyra was busy with other fronts of the war and negotiating, how can she be expected to micromanage her husband?

Now, while the original post was written I think before Condal started teasing the whole "people will want to switch sides", the reblog definitely wasn't. Condal has revealed that he plans to make the audience sympathize with the greens more this season. Which is why it makes no sense why the poster who reblogged believes they will make the greens appear worse. They're already making excuses for Aegon raping serving girls, trying to make Alicent be completely innocent of her team's actions, and making Aemond "accidentally" kill Luke.

The show is already so obviously TG, they even aged up Rhaenyra and aged down Alicent to control who the audience sympathizes with. TG stans are just bitter that even the intense white washing can't cover up how in the wrong TG is.

Alicent is totally at least partially to blame for B&C. In the book, she was the head of the green faction and constantly plotted to usurp Rhaenyra, thus causing the war. In both the show and the book, Alicent raised her children to view their nephews as subhuman. She instilled the hatred of them into Aemond long before the Driftmark incident. She's the one who constantly affirmed to them that Aegon is the rightful heir and Rhaenyra is a murderous whore. Alicent bears the blame for what happened to her family just as much as Aegon, Otto, and Aemond.

[thewritingbeforesunrise]

Secretive. (Part 3)

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

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A/N: Hi everyone, this is the final part of Secretive (Part 1) (Part 2). There is a camera involved in this one. It is consensually used, but if this makes you uncomfortable, please, don't read this.

I really couldn't get the idea of Sam absolutely loving taking pictures of himself out of my mind. So, I decided to write down this little something, imagining how he would act with a camera in the bedroom. Don't ask me why, but I absolutely know he is a little cocky exhibitionist.

If you are interested, you can join my taglist here.

Word count: 7.3K

Pairing: Sam x female!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, language, fingering, oral (m!&f!receiving), protected penetrative sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, consensual picture-taking, nudes, consensual sending and receiving nudes.

Summary: Your night with Sam takes a very unexpected turn.

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You were woken up a few hours later by a featherlight touch on your hip and a shiver running down your body.

You were cold and the first thing you noticed when you opened your sleepy eyes was the still open window on the other side of the room. The white curtains were billowing with the night breeze.

The bedside lamp was on, casting a dull orange glow on everything, making shadows distort and dance on the walls.

Your body was no longer covered by the soft sheet Sam had draped over your bodies earlier.

You shivered again and focused on the featherlight touch that had bothered your slumber.

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness and ,instantly, your heartbeat sped up.

The featherlight touch on your hip was provided by Sam's parted lips ghosting on your tender skin without leaving marks, his long hair tickling your skin.

It was so delicate that if you hadn't had a very light sleep you wouldn't have noticed it.

You felt your face redden not because of the innocence of the touch per se, but because of the position in which Sam was.

He was laying on his stomach on the bed, right between your parted legs with a perfect view of your naked body. He didn't notice that you were awake for a while and continued peppering light kisses on your tummy and hips.

Then he grazed his teeth on your hipbone and you inhaled sharply, giving yourself away.

His eyes met yours and a playful smirk adorned his astonishing face.

You smiled back as he held eye contact, while lowering between your legs and biting sharply on the inside of your left thigh.

"Good Morning, beautiful" he said in a hot whisper, his warm breath felt cool on the side of your thigh that he had just bitten, making a shiver of anticipation run up your spine.

You whimpered and he chuckled, absolutely aware of the effect he was having on you.

From his position, he could actually see the result of that sweet torture he was inflicting to you.

You felt soaked.

"Did you sleep well, love?" He asked

"Yes, and you?" You replied, already out of breath.

The reply made you grit your teeth in order not to moan.

"Actually not very well, I had something on my mind, and I couldn't stop thinking about it" he said and started sucking a mark on the inside of your right thigh, very close to your core.

When he was satisfied with his work, he let go of your skin with a soft sound.

The tingling sensation that spread from the mark to your core had your back arching slightly from the bed.

He smirked at your reaction and in a swift motion stood up and dragged you by your ankles closer to the edge of the bed, making you gasp loudly.

"What time is it?" You managed to ask him, breathlessly.

"4:30" he said nonchalantly while walking to the side of the bed to grab something from the bedside table.

When you understood what it was, your heart skipped several beats.

He was holding your camera with a sly smirk on his stupidly attractive face.

This boy is a menace, you thought.

This was confirmed when he handed the camera to you.

"I couldn't stop thinking about tasting you and about how much I wanted you to take pictures of me while I was going down on you. Is this ok for you?" He said, almost shyly.

At that moment, you thought your soul left your body.

Nobody had ever asked you something like that and it shouldn't have had the effect it was having on you right now.

If a man had ever had the courage to ask you something like that, you would have immediately put him out of your door.

So why were you considering his request now?

And why was it making you feel like you were about to combust on the spot?

What the hell was wrong with you?

Your rambling thoughts were stopped by his soft voice.

"You don't have to say yes to this if it makes you uncomfortable, love" he said sincerely, stroking your ankle softly "but you can say yes if you want to, don't overthink it too much" he said, winking.

His arm was still stretched towards you with your camera and you surprised even yourself when you took it from his hand.

Your photographer brain made you gather the strength to peel your eyes off his and set the correct settings for it to actually be able to take pictures

When you were done, you snapped a picture of him towering over you, with a devilish smirk on his face and his hands on your knees keeping them spread open.

The moon was providing enough light to give the pictures an eerie look that you loved.

You felt very much like a sinner, but you didn't even care at this point.

His perfect smile beamed and he blew you a kiss just like you had seen him do several times towards his fans that night.

You caught that on camera too.

Then and now.

He knelt in front of you.

The whole situation was affecting you very much so you weren't surprised by his next words.

"You are so wet, doll, I can see it even in this darkness. The moon shining on you is making your cunt glimmer. So beautiful" he whispered.

The filth in his words took your breath away, but you managed to snap another picture of him staring right between your legs and licking his lips.

It felt like an out-of-body experience, watching him through the lens of your camera.

You shivered in anticipation when his hot breath fanned over your wet flushed skin.

"Ready?" He rasped looking at you straight in the eyes.

You snapped again.

"Yes" you breathed and he finally lowered himself between your legs, licking a torturously slow stripe over you with the flat of his tongue.

You almost lost grip on your camera, but you managed to snap again.

This is mental, you thought.

He focused on your pleasure and continued licking at your center for a while. You were almost there but, all of a sudden, he stopped, making you whine.

He chuckled and you saw him bring his pointer and middle finger to his lips, enveloping them in his warm mouth and slicking them with saliva.

You whimpered at his actions and took a picture.

He was loving every second of it, looking directly into the camera.

He was putting on a show just for you.

And you were absolutely there for it.

With his signature smirk, he lowered his fingers from his mouth and without further hesitation pushed them inside of you, slowly but purposefully.

You arched your back pushing him even deeper.

"Fuck, I wish you could see yourself from here, give me the camera, doll" he groaned.

You obliged without thinking and he snapped a picture from his angle and handed the camera back to you.

You blushed.

He set a slow but firm pace, curling his fingers repeatedly when he found a spot that had you clawing the sheets underneath you, making your knuckles turn white.

You were again almost on the verge of coming undone, but he stopped again, making you groan his name this time.

"Shh, doll, don't worry we are getting there" he said with a smug tone and a smirk you wanted to slap away from his face.

You closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath and he took advantage of your action to delve with his tongue between your legs, making your eyes snap open and a scream of his name echo in the room.

Involuntarily, your hand went to his head keeping him grounded there, your nails scraping his scalp lightly.

His hair was so soft you were jealous.

You grabbed the camera again and snapped a picture of the scene before you. It was becoming very hard for you to focus on taking pictures with his lips attacking you that way.

He kept sucking, nibbling and licking expertedly at you, stealing the air from your lungs.

He was so good that you wanted him to stay there forever.

When his fingers joined his mouth, you knew you were doomed and you could barely contain your moans.

His thumb kept swirling in tight circles on your clit as his tongue dipped inside of you.

His stare bore into your eyes, then, and with a trembling hand you snapped again.

You couldn't stop the whimper of his name that followed, signalling him that you were close.

At that, he started to push his tongue in and out of you, joining his fingers.

Letting go of the camera, both your hands grabbed his hair and your legs clamped shut around his head.

You wanted to keep him there and, simultaneously, your body tried to escape from underneath him.

His hands that stayed planted on your hips the whole time tightened their hold on you to keep you still.

He looked so sexy like that, you wanted the image burned behind your eyelids.

In a moment of clearness, you grabbed your camera, set the self-timer and pushed it a bit far on the bed for a better angle.

Then, your hand joined your other in his hair again and you felt the heaviest wave of pleasure hit you right when the camera snapped, your back arching from the bed and your vision blacking out.

He groaned as his name became your mantra, breathy and whispered over and over again.

You felt little tears forming at the corners of your eyes as he kept fucking you with his tongue, thumb swirling fast on your clit.

You couldn't believe it, you felt so good you didn't even think it was real.

He gradually slowed his actions and emerged from between your legs with a satisfied grin on his face, lips and chin glistening with your arousal.

You snapped another picture and he chuckled.

"You looked so shy and reserved, who would have thought that you were such a dirty little girl, mh?" He said in a cocky whisper.

"It was one of the hottest things I have ever done" you confessed.

He snatched the camera from your hands and took a picture of your fucked out state, legs spread open, sheets tangled, hair a mess and a satisfied smile on your flushed face.

"You are beautiful like this" he added, making you squirm and hide your face in your hands.

He laid down next to you and you turned your body on the side, towards him. He stroked your back soothingly. You relaxed listening to the rhythm of his breath as he almost fell asleep and then you sat up, grabbed the camera and took another picture of him.

He only had boxers on, absolutely straining on him right now.

An idea came to your mind.

You scooted closer, your hand on his chest and you slowly started to move it southwards stroking his lean chest and his tummy.

Just when your pinky reached the band of his boxers, his hand swiftly grabbed your wrist, making you gasp. You leaned your head upwards and you saw he was wide awake.

His gaze was burning into yours and he had a breathtaking smile on his face.

"I have something on my mind too now, Sammy" you whispered, biting your lip and he groaned.

"Go on then, I am all yours, sweetheart" he said, letting go of your hand and crossing his arms behind his head, getting comfortable to watch the show, like the smug bastard he was.

You smirked at him, sitting up and looking between him and the camera still on the bed and you snickered when the realisation dawned on him.

You saw his smile grow as he understood what you wanted, without you saying it out loud.

You wanted him to picture you going down on him just like he had asked you to do moments prior.

He grabbed the camera and you knew he was going to tease you about it.

His eyes never left yours as he sat up and enveloped you in a sweet kiss, only for his lips to travel to your neck and to your ear to whisper simple words that you felt deep into your core.

"Do you do this with all your lovers, Y/N?" He said before nibbling at your lobe.

Your face turned red, embarrassed by his assumption.

"I had never done that before" You whispered back, not able to hold his burning gaze.

"Really?" he said, lifting your chin with his finger, sounding surprised.

Your already flushed cheeks darkened.

"No, this was the absolute first time for me doing that. I have never even taken a picture of myself naked, let alone while with someone else'' you told him.

"Well baby, I can't wait to see those pictures, if you will allow me, of course. But I don't want you to feel pressured about it" he said, stroking your cheek gently.

At this point you would have agreed to anything he asked you, without regrets.

To your surprise he went on "Speaking of myself, you could tell I love attention, so I may have indulged in taking pictures of myself quite a bit" he said with a wink smirking and snapping another picture of your face with his thumb stroking your bottom lip.

You laughed at his confession and decided to play along with him.

Something like this night you were enjoying with Sam would probably never happen again to you, so you wanted to relish every second of it.

Your lips enveloped his thumb, with the flat of your tongue you licked at his smooth digit keeping eye contact with him and making him groan deep in his chest with hunger in his eyes.

"Doll, your mouth feel so sinful around my thumb, I can only imagine how good my cock is going to feel in there." He purred.

He took another picture as you bit his finger and sucked it lightly. He squeezed his eyes shut and cursed under his breath.

One of your hands smoothed over the bulge between his legs and his breath hitched in his throat.

You kissed him hard and told him to lay down

He obliged with the camera still in his hands and took a picture of your hand cupping him.

The idea of him taking pictures while you were about to do such a filthy thing was making you wet again.

Now you understood what Sam was feeling when he was in your position.

You started toying with the band of his boxers letting it snap a few times on his delicate hips, making him hiss.

"Y/N" He warned you and you decided to stop teasing him, for now.

You freed him from the restrictions of the fabric and slowly dragged it down his legs.

His fully hard dick slapped on his tummy looking painful, the angry red of the tip made the little drop of precum stand out vividly.

Your mouth watered at the sight but your wetness increased when, with a devilish smirk, he directed the camera towards himself and took a picture.

You suppressed a little moan, your hands were itching to touch him.

He knew you wanted to touch him badly and he decided to play along and deny you with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

To torture you even further he delicately wrapped a hand around himself, starting a painstackingly slow rhythm, without breaking eye contact once.

You couldn't take your eyes off his even though you would have loved to watch him touch himself.

After a while he fumbled with the camera and took a few pictures of his hand working on himself and you couldn't take it anymore.

"Please, Sammy, let me touch you" you whispered, unable to avoid the little whiny tone of your request.

His hand didn't stop and for a second you worried if he had even heard you, sleepy brown eyes lost in the moment.

"Please, yes" he whined "touch me, show me how much you want this".

You didn't need to be told twice.

You eagerly wrapped your hand around his rock hard member and he gasped.

His skin was flushed hot and so soft under your trembling hand.

His hand wrapped around your own and tightened your hold a little.

"Just a little tighter, love, like this, so good, don't worry you aren't going to hurt me" he whispered.

You did as you were told and he sighed contentedly.

He resumed his position taking pictures of you every now and then.

Your thumb started gliding onto his tip with every upward motion playing with the drops of precum gathering there and making him squeeze his eyes shut and exhale little breaths through his nose, biting his plush bottom lip.

He adjusted the camera and took a few more pictures.

You couldn't resist anymore, you needed to taste him.

Your head was positively spinning as you pushed your hair to the side of your neck and lowered yourself on him.

You felt his breath hitch in his throat in anticipation and he moaned your name as soon as your tongue glided timidly on his tip, tasting him while your other hand still stroked his length.

Your thighs clenched as he imperceptibly pushed his hips upwards to meet your lips again, desperate for your touch.

"More please, love, I need more" you heard his desperate voice pleading with you and you opened your lips to welcome him deeper inside your mouth.

He snapped a picture again and then another when your lips closed on his shaft and you looked at him through your eyelashes.

He groaned as you began sucking delicately on him and you felt one of his hands on the back of your neck, just holding you there.

"You look so fucking hot like this" he said and he took a picture, making your cheeks flush.

The wetness was pooling again between your legs now and it was becoming hard to ignore it.

You took more of him into your mouth and down your throat. He was quite big, so you didn't know if you could take him all the way.

Anyway you wanted to try so after a moment of adjusting, you lowered even more.

He inevitably hit the back of your throat, making you gag.

He groaned loudly, and you pulled off to cough a little and catch your breath.

"God, love, this was almost it for me, your mouth feels like silk." And then, assessing your embarrassment, he added "Don't worry, take your time. I have a day off tomorrow, well, today" he snickered but stopped abruptly when you sucked on his tip, flicking your tongue against his slit.

His hand gripped the hair on the back of your neck as a breathy curse escaped his lips.

You slowly lowered even more and you almost gagged again, but you tried to hold back and relax your throat.

Your eyes started to water because of the lack of oxygen, but you tried your best to take all of him inside your mouth.

The tip of your nose touched his abdomen as his tip grazed at the back of your throat. A little tear escaped your eye and landed on him.

You heard the shutter of your camera go off again and then his hands cradled the sides of your face and pushed you off him with a strangled groan.

"As much as I love seeing you like this, baby, gagging pretty on my cock with tears streaking down your cheeks, you don't have to push yourself this much, I want you to enjoy this too, love, take your time and breathe for me ok?" he said, wiping the tears from your cheek and picturing the scene with your camera, making you laugh lightly.

He kissed you again, biting your bottom lip and dragging it towards himself. His eyes were burning with passion and you felt a shiver of lust run down your spine.

You pushed him down and took him back into your mouth slowly, adjusting once again and sucking.

This time you kept eye contact with Sam and you saw as his eyes rolled back in his skull when your other hand that wasn't occupied stroking him, dipped lower to caress his balls.

A deep groan escaped his lips as you kneaded them softly between gentle fingers.

At the same time, you took him deeper into your mouth and his lips hung open. His expression reminded you so much of the many faces he made while playing his bass on stage.

Wetness pooled between your legs at the sight before you and you snatched the camera from his hand to picture him like that.

Then you discarded it onto the bed, quickening the bobbing of your mouth on his length, sucking harder on him at the same time.

He tried to warn you to stop if you didn't want him to cum into your mouth with a sudden pull of your hair, but that only spurred you to go on further.

A moan escaped your lungs as he grabbed you by the hair and it was it.

As you moaned, your throat vibrated and tightened around him and, with strangled cries, he came in a hot rush down your throat.

You swallowed as you kept moving, slowing down to a stop.

As your eyes went back to his, you saw the deep smirk adorning his features.

Camera in hand, he had managed to picture the very moment of his orgasm.

Still buried into your mouth, he kept twitching but he didn't pull you off him.

Instead, his hand on your neck angled your face sideways so that the tip of his cock could push on the soft side of your cheek making your skin tent lightly.

He bit his bottom lip because of overstimulation but kept you still and took another picture.

He is such an exhibitionist, you thought.

When he pulled out of your mouth, you placed a final kiss on his tip.

He pulled you towards him and draped the sheet again on top of your spent bodies.

"Now we can sleep for a couple of hours doll, I am not going to bother you, for now. " He added in a whisper, kissing your forehead as you both settled for what was left of the night.

~

You woke up with a bright ray of sunshine right in your face, feeling a weight on your chest.

You looked down and saw Sam's hair sprawled over you, his face flush on your skin. His hands were tight around your waist, your legs intertwined. The room was immersed in the white-golden glow typical of an early sunny morning.

You felt something hard against your hip.

You moved the covers aside slowly and smiled.

Your camera was poking your skin, still between your bodies, pressed against your hip bone.

That camera had witnessed things that you were unsure you would be able to ever process. The thought made you blush.

You couldn't even believe what happened, but luckily you had some kind of proof. You were ready to lock those pictures away and cherish them forever.

You couldn't help but stroke his hair lightly. It was so soft and you were very jealous.

He stirred and looked up towards you with a big smile on his face.

"Good Morning beautiful" His raspy sleepy voice filled your ears making you smile wide.

You hadn't felt that happy in a long time.

You felt reckless and happy, finally alive like never before.

Your thoughts slipped from your mouth before you could stop yourself.

"Thank you Sam, I had an absolutely lovely unforgettable night with you." You said while smiling down at him.

He raised from his position on your chest with a gentle kiss between your breasts and he was now looking down at you with a beaming smile.

His eyes slowly drifted to your lips and you saw the thought forming in his mind even before he moved.

He kissed your lips and then his mouth ghosted over your ear as his hand grazed the inside of your thigh.

"I have an idea. What do you think about a slow steamy session of morning sex, doll?" He whispered, nipping at your earlobe every now and then.

God, he got me wet again, I am not able to say no to him, you thought while he kissed you, deepening it almost immediately.

He scooted backwards a little so he could sit up against the headboard.

The two of you were still naked and, when he motioned for you to straddle him, you felt him hardening against your thigh.

You sighed at the contact, leaning your forehead against his. His hands were positioned onto your hips, stroking your skin.

His lips found your ear again.

"Are you sure you want this? You are not too sore, are you?" He spoke like a gentleman into your ear.

You kissed him harshly, making him gasp.

"I am ok Sam, really. And I want you again, please" you whispered and he chuckled.

"No need to beg, doll, I am here to please you". He was completely hard now. His fingers come ghosting over your heat and he nudged your jaw with his nose.

"Always so ready for me, baby, fuck" he groaned.

You started rocking your hips against his fingers.

He lifted you and guided you forward so he could drag the tip of his dick right between your folds, spreading you and your wetness in the process.

You looked down at him, hunger was pooling in his eyes for the umpteenth time in the past few hours.

You wanted to sink down on him right then and there and he knew that, but he stopped you before you could, so he could put on a condom.

You grasped it from his hands, tore it open with your teeth and put it on him, making him groan loudly.

He grabbed your hips again, digging his long fingers into your flesh and guided himself back against you. His tip prodded several times at your entrance without sinking in, making you groan.

He chuckled and pushed in a little, only to push all the way in in a fluid but slow motion.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure. He felt even deeper from this angle. His hands on your hips kept you flush against him.

His breath was ragged as he spoke " Fuck, Y/N, I am so close already. You are squeezing me so hard. Relax, baby, relax for me."

You tried to comply and he sighed as you did.

"You look so hot riding me baby, can I take another picture? Please" his whining tone alone was intoxicating.

You told him yes and started to roll your hips, making him hiss.

He took a few pictures and handed the camera back to you.

You took one of him and then he snatched it from your hands, set the self-timer timer and placed it on the nightstand to his left.

His hands gripped your hips then and guided your hips in an up and down motion making you moan his name in the crook of his neck.

He was hitting places so deep inside of you you didn't know existed.

You heard the click of the shutter and he immediately pressed the button to shoot again.

You laughed and he playfully bit your shoulder.

You were close already.

He pushed his thumb between your lips and you sucked on it eagerly.

Then he placed it onto your clit but kept it still.

With every motion of your hips you created your own friction on it.

"Let go for me" he said and you couldn't hold back anymore, you arched your back and came with a strangled cry.

The shutter went off and he wasted no time in activating it again.

You were still twitching around him with the aftershock of your orgasm when he flipped you over without pulling out of you.

Now he was on top of you, his dark hair was framing his face and swaying back and forth with his thrusts which were becoming deeper and harsher. His hands were on either side of your head balancing himself above you without crushing you, yours were grabbing at his wrists.

The eye contact he held while fucking you brought you close again in a matter of seconds.

You hands flied down and you clawed at his hips with your nails as he lowered himself to bite your neck. You clenched around him in a vice-like grip.

"Sammy, cum for me" you whispered in his neck, taking another picture.

After two more thrust, he came with a strangled cry of your name and you followed him, spasming around him.

He collapsed on top of you, panting just like you.

After a while he pulled out of you and flopped down next to you.

You both locked gazes and laughed.

"We really can't take our hands off of eachother" he said, stroking your cheek.

You felt so good with him, you were a bit upset that the morning came so quickly.

"We should take a shower, Sam." You whispered after some time.

He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you bursted out laughing.

"A platonic one Sam!" You swatted his chest with a pillow.

He stood up and you did the same but your legs were a bit wobbly.

He noticed and, with a smirk, he helped you stand up more steadily.

"Don't look at me like that, it's your fault" you told him playfully.

He hugged you tightly from behind and whispered into your ear.

"Not entirely doll, it takes two to fuck, after all" he said in his usual husky tone then swatted your ass playfully, dodged you and ran to the bathroom.

You two showered together and then got dressed, sharing sweet kisses and hungry glances.

You didn't want to take further advantage of his hospitality so you started to gather your things.

You were sitting on the bed with him and you stopped your actions right when you were about to pack your camera.

A question stuck into your mind.

"Sam, we should talk about how I can send you the pictures" You sheepishly asked him, blushing vividly, your eyes cast downwards.

He chuckled at your embarrassment and lifted your chin.

"You know, you don't have to send me those if you are not comfortable, right? You don't have to decide now, think about it" and then he added " I may have a solution anyway. I can give you one of my personal email addresses so that you can send the pictures, if you want" he said in a gentle tone.

You nodded with a smile because it was the perfect idea.

He took your phone from your open purse, wrote down the email and put it back in your bag.

You were ready to go.

You knew it was time to part ways and you were sad.

He noticed your pensive expression, cradled your face with both his hands and kissed you slowly goodbye.

"Maybe next time the band comes in town we can meet again" He told you and you couldn't stop the grin spreading on your lips.

"I'd love it, Sam." You whispered.

He asked you if you needed a lift home but you refused.

You needed to take a walk in the crisp morning air to help your mind process the night events.

Your back was to the door, your hand on the doorknob and he was standing in front of you shirtless and with a hand on the doorframe. You raised on your tiptoes and kissed his lips.

"You will hear from me very soon, doll" he said, biting his lip and waving goodbye when you exited the door.

He closed it with a wink.

It took you a second to orient yourself before you turned right and headed to the lift.

The corridor was completely silent, but when you started moving, you heard the faint noise of a peep-hole and you couldn't shake off the feeling you were being watched.

You heard the click of a lock but you didn't turn around immediately, feeling eyes boring on the back of your neck. When you reached the lift, you finally turned around but nobody was there. You thought you saw a door shutting right next to Sam's room but you didn't hear it click shut.

Maybe you had imagined it.

You made it outside the hotel.

With the deserted roads, you could hear the sounds of birds chirping here and there, calming you down.

Just when you were about to reach your house, your phone buzzed.

The notification read:

S:

I had fun tonight, thank you ;)

And then it buzzed again

S:

I miss you, already 📷

There was a picture attached to the last message.

You entered your apartment, settled your bags next to the couch and flopped down.

You opened the messages and you almost threw your phone across the room.

You didn't expect to see what you saw there, that is, a mirror selfie of a very naked and very hard Sam.

You replied immediately

You:

Thank God I am already home, if I had opened your message outside on the road I could have flashed someone.

When did you save my number?

He replied straight away.

S:

You shouldn't be surprised, I already told you that I am an attention seeker ;) Along with the email address, love.

You messaged back and forth all day.

~

After dinner, you decided it was time to upload the pictures you took at the concert, along with the others, on your computer.

You plugged in your camera and uploaded all 1500 pictures.

When the process was done, the folder automatically opened and your heart began thumping harshly in your chest.

You separated the concert ones from the others and, with shaking hands, clicked on the folder containing the dreaded pictures.

Your breath caught in your throat.

They were absolutely filthy, but undeniably beautiful.

Some were a bit blurry, but that only added something to them.

You were very embarrassed, but immensely turned on.

You wanted to frame them and hang them on your walls, but, at the same time, you wanted to hide them forever.

Your wetness was growing every second more and you decided you needed to do something about it.

You grabbed your phone and texted him:

You:

I am sorry to bother you but I am looking at the pictures. Wow.

He replied in a matter of seconds

S:

You are not bothering me, doll.

How very rude of you, saying something like that when I can't even see them.

You made up your mind right there and then.

You opened the browser, logged in to your email account and selected four random pictures protecting them with a password to avoid prying eyes.

You typed in his email address and pressed 'send'.

Your heart was beating so furiously in your chest that you were afraid it could jump out of your ribcage.

You wrote back.

You:

Check your email Sammy, the password is the initial of my name along side the date of the day we met.

It took him a few more minutes to answer but he did.

S:

Oh my fucking God, baby. How many of those have you got?

You:

Nearly 500

S:

Well, wow ;) I need you.

And to your surprise he wrote again.

S:

Where are you now?

You:

In my bedroom. Why?

A few seconds later your phone was ringing.

His contact was lighting up the screen.

You picked up and a shiver ran down your spine.

His breath was ragged, you could only imagine what he was doing on the other end.

"Hey" he said and you mirrored him.

"Ok let's go straight to the point, shall we?" He spoke again, he seemed very impatient.

You hummed in response, not trusting your voice.

"Are you wet?" He asked and you almost collapsed.

"Y-yes" you replied.

"Fuck, ok now strip for me" he demanded and you obliged.

"I want you to lay on your bed." He went on.

"Bring your laptop with you." He commanded and you obeyed.

You could hear some shuffling from his side and you imagined he was doing the same. You were getting wetter by the second, just the mere thought of him was having this effect on you.

"Ready?" He asked and you answered him with a breathy 'yes'.

"Touch yourself, doll, and look at the pictures you sent me while you do it. I want you to remember how good my tongue and cock felt inside of you" he whispered and you moaned.

But he wasn't finished "I am going to think about your sinful mouth and silky cunt, baby" he said, almost growling.

You two shared gasps and moans through the phone and, despite you being a bit embarrassed, it felt so good.

When you were finished, he wished you goodnight and you did the same, thinking about his featherlight touch on your skin.

After a few seconds, you received another text from him.

A picture to be specific.

Your jaw almost hit the floor when you opened it.

You understood that he told you the absolute truth while speaking about enjoying taking pictures of himself.

This one would haunt your most unspeakable dreams for months.

It wasn't a mirror selfie like the other one.

This one was way filthier.

He was laying on a bed in another hotel room.

The deep red comforter made his skin stand out. He was naked, with a hand wrapped tightly around himself and ropes of pearly white cum shining on him, coating his tanned skin and his hand.

You absolutely needed to bathe in holy water after that.

~

You and Sam kept messaging for a couple of months. Sharing pictures leading to hushed needy phone calls every now and then.

One night, you were busy working as a photographer for another concert, when you felt your phone buzz with a text from an unknown number.

You didn't have time to answer it straight away so you waited till you got home.

You showered then sat on the couch to check your phone and finally opened the unknown message.

You immediately started to panic.

The message contained a screenshot of your very personal chat with Sam and nothing else.

After the initial shock you decided to investigate further and you answered the message with question marks.

You:

???

The reply was immediate

Unknown:

;)

You:

Sam, if this is a stupid joke, it is not funny.

Unknown:

You are wrong, I find it very funny ;)

Another message quickly followed

Unknown:

I knew little Sammy boy had something going on.

You:

Who are you?

Unknown:

Well, wouldn't you like to know? ;)

You:

Sam, is this you?

Unknown:

No, sweetheart, I am not your Sam.

You:

OK, I have nothing to say to you, then.

Unknown:

Oh, but I am having so much fun.

You are very talented, by the way. The pictures you took at the concert are unbelievable.

You had sent Sam a few pictures you took at the concert back then, alongside the others, but always with passwords and by email.

You dreaded that the person who was writing to you now could have also seen the other pictures of your night together.

You started to panic more with the next text you received.

Unknown:

But I preferred the other ones ;)

Shit, they knew, they had seen the others too. You felt tears prickling your eyes.

Unknown:

Don't panic, I was the only one who saw those. It will be our sweet dirty little secret, baby. I will keep my mouth shut, I promise.

You were fed up now so you became aggressive.

You:

Who the fuck are you?

Unknown:

A friend ;)

You:

Clearly not. Do I know you?

Unknown:

Well we met onstage, that night, doll.

So it's one of his bandmates.

Y/N: Are you one of his bandmates?

Unknown:

Good girl ;)

The little pet name had butterflies spread their wings in your stomach.

You remember them, they were all very attractive and magnetic.

You felt the pull towards them even if you had been around them for only a couple of hours.

You decided to play along.

You:

Which one?

Unknown:

The best one ;)

The mysterious man was very cocky and confident.

You:

You are not helping me. I need one more hint.

Unknown:

And what do I get in return?

You:

Absolutely nothing

Unknown:

You are in no position to speak to me like this

It was becoming funny.

You:

Ok, I guess I will text Sam about it, then.

Unknown:

Don't you dare!

I see why Sammy likes you. You look so innocent and yet you are so naughty. ;)

You:

I am going to ask you one last time. Who are you?

He didn't reply so you busied yourself getting ready to go to bed. After half an hour you got another text.

Unknown:

I have already told you, baby, I am a friend. But I can be more than that. ;)

He sent you a blurred picture on purpose.

You:

Well, what am I supposed to do with a blurred picture? My patience is wearing thin.

Unknown:

You are funny, baby. I like it ;)

You:

Ok, Bye

Unknown:

Not so fast, doll. Aren't you curious?

You didn't reply.

Two could play a game, after all.

After a few minutes he wrote back

Unknown:

Fine. I am the one with dark brown hair ;)

You didn't want to answer him anymore, so you waited half an hour just to piss him off, because he was making your blood boil.

You:

Thank you very much. All of you have dark hair.

Unknown:

You are still there then. Good ;)

In three weeks we are playing another concert in your city. If you want to discover who I am, you just have to come and see ;)

But he wasn't done.

Unknown:

But I am feeling generous tonight.

And he sent a picture.

This time it wasn't blurred and you blushed to the tip of your toes.

Good lord, these boys will be the death of me.

You had to avert your eyes from the screen and you hid it on your chest, despite there was no one around who could see that.

The picture was taken in a dark hotel room, white sheets turned golden by the feeble yellow light on a bedside table.

The subject was shirtless displaying a soft yet toned chest with a long necklace glimmering in the light. He was wearing light blue jeans that were dangerously low on his hips.

His veiny hand was placed on his crotch.

It was pictured in the act of grabbing his evident bulge.

It inevitably got you flustered.

After a few minutes, you received another one.

This time you legitimately dropped your phone on the floor.

He was in the same position as before except for the hand that was now wrapped loosely around his hard cock.

You couldn't stop staring at the picture and you didn't know how to answer him. He saved you the trouble.

Unknown:

Goodnight Y/N. See you in three weeks. Sweet dreams and don't forget to think about me ;)

You surely couldn't stop thinking about it, even if you tried.

—--------------------

Taglist: @why-ami-on-here

[lossie92]

A snippet from a story I have been working on and off for the last year, give or take. The plot is based on this post by @oscurolibelle and the title of it is That Which We Call a Rose.

Hope you enjoy~

-

It was supposed to be a simple mission. 

Get in, kill the prince, get out, collect payment, done. 

Easy as can be. 

In fact, Madara had successfully completed so many assignments like this in the past he had lost count by now. Nobility was prone to petty squabbling that ended in death and, at the end of the day, work was work, even if it was dirty. 

Then again, it wasn't as if mercenary work was meant to be clean and what were shinobi if not mercenaries?

He knew he was good at this too. Though he wasn’t the most inconspicuous of ninja by any stretch of the imagination and his reputation oftentimes preceded him, he was also quick on his feet, silent like a ghost, and decidedly more nimble than his bulky frame would suggest. Assassinations had become somewhat of a speciality of his as a result, which led to the clan as a whole starting to receive more and more missions like this. Unsavoury as it would seem to a civilian and maybe some ninja with a better moral compass, Madara actually didn't mind killing people for money. It wasn't pleasant by any means, but the missions paid very well, didn't take much time at all in his experience, and he didn’t have to endanger any of his clansmen to complete them, all of which were good things in Madara’s book.

This particular assignment should have gone like any other.

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t factor in the fact that his target would be… Well, stupidly beautiful, really.

Madara’s heart raced as he stared down at the sleeping prince. Long snow white hair mussed with sleep and spread like a halo around the prince's face, frosty lashes brushing against soft round cheeks, full lips parted on an exhale.

Amaterasu preserve him, but he had never seen anyone quite like this in his life. 

The man was unreal. There was no other way of putting it. He didn’t look like he was supposed to be a part of this world, so peaceful and enticing in his sleep. Were people – real people with blood running in their veins – actually supposed to look like this? Madara didn't think so and yet here was this spirit of a man who belonged on the pages of fairytales and in the lyrics of songs, too fantastical to be anything other than a legend at best.

Madara swallowed thickly and hesitated with his hand raised, his tanto at the ready. His heart was hammering in his chest like it rarely ever did, running a mile a minute in a frantic rhythm that made him breathless. To his own surprise, he found himself unable to move, frozen and wavering on the edge of indecision for the first time since he had been handed a kunai as a child of four. 

He… he couldn’t do it, he realised. He knew he should – knew he had to if he wanted to get paid – but he simply couldn’t make himself move even by an inch. The idea of pressing his blade against that long pale neck and killing that man was simply unfathomable. Revolting. Vile. It felt like sacrilege too, as if by taking the prince’s life he would be stealing something from the world that wasn’t meant to be stolen or even touched. 

It wasn't a time to get sentimental, nevermind the fact that being attracted to a target was the absolute height of stupidity and just about the most foolish thing a ninja could do. His clan needed this money, especially with winter fast approaching, and this mission alone would ensure their survival for a month at least.

Madara took in a shaky breath and then released it quietly, eyes still focused on the prince’s fey face, slack with sleep and so beautiful it hurt.

A month’s worth of payment.

A life of an innocent man taken.

Madara sighed.

He didn't know how he would explain it to the clan, but they would have to understand. Besides, there would be other assignments, other clients willing to pay for his skills. It was still autumn. They would be able to pull through for a while if they were clever about their resources and he would find another mission in no time. Leaving a job unfinished just this once wouldn’t matter, he told himself, and if it meant allowing the man before him to live…

Mind made up, he put the blade back in its sheath and shifted his position until he was kneeling next to the prince instead of over him. Unable to resist, he allowed himself one more look at the prince, activating his Sharingan just so he could remember him forever. It was a stupid, frivolous thing, but he had never seen someone like this and, were the circumstances different, he knew deep down he would have surely tried to approach this man, maybe court him too in due time if his soul and mind turned out to be even partially as enchanting as his looks.

Alas, it was not meant to be. 

What a shame.

Slowly, carefully he stood from the bed, mindful not to jostle the prince or move the bedding too much, lest he wake the man up. 

It was going well until he stepped on a creaky floorboard, completely forgetting about the nightingale floors that were so commonly found in old buildings like the palace. A rookie mistake, one that had cost many shinobi their lives too. 

The man shot up into a sitting position in an instant, his face turning in Madara’s direction. His expression and body language were still lax with sleep, his eyes heavy with it. It took a moment before the man blinked, long lashes moving sluggishly as he did so, and when he looked up at last—

Red eyes, Madara thought, entirely dazed, heart in his throat and his breath stuck somewhere in his chest. 

Beautiful, dark red eyes. Slanted and cat-like in shape, surrounded by those lovely white lashes, and so utterly mesmerising Madara couldn't look away.

What were the odds that the prince would turn out to be a Blessed? It seemed impossible, too good of a thing to be true, but the proof of it was all but staring right at him, wasn't it?

“Wha...?” The prince mumbled, voice rough and sleep-laden, a slight wheeze in his breath, and just as lovely as the rest of him. 

Madara took another careless step back. Predictably enough the floor creaked under his weight again, louder this time, the sound of it almost ominous.

The prince’s head snapped in his direction lightning-fast, those pretty red eyes widening when they landed on him, his silhouette visible even in the deep darkness. 

An involuntary shiver went down Madara’s spine as their eyes met for the first time and he felt his entire world shift on its axis, a sense of vertigo hitting him hard enough that he stumbled yet another step until he was pressed against the wall and felt as if he was going to pass out any moment.

He had heard about what it felt like to find your soulmate, how life changing it was and how it made one feel off-balanced in the best way possible as the bond was forged through the first shared look, but it was vastly different to hear about and to experience something, and Madara could attest that what he was currently feeling was nothing like any of the stories.

He… Oh gods, if he hadn't stopped, he would have killed a part of his soul. 

Thinking about it made him feel sick. 

One decision, one small and seemingly insignificant choice between carrying out a mission and stepping away, one moment of weakness. 

For what was probably the first time in his life Madara was glad, truly glad, to be a weak man at heart.

[spitfire-of-the-sea]

Okay, okay, okay.

Everytime I write Ace he's just running away with the story and I end up somewhere completely different to where I thought we'd end up. So here we are, with part 3. Which is mostly horny. And hopefully a little funny. Still not NSFW because I'm a whore for slow burn and I felt it was too quickly for them to jump each other. (I know, it's a dumb reason. v.v I can't help it).

Perhaps I need to set up a whole new scenario for the smut to make sense in my head. Or a series. Reader trying to keep Ace in check. And half-failing every time. Anyway. I'M SORRY. This is just more dumb/horny humor. And reader suffers. I'M SORRY. NO I'M NOT.

If you have ideas for a new series, drop me a note!! :D

Ace x reader SFW (with innuendos; the most porn word in there is "nipple", though. Sooooo...) 4.8k (I can't control myself apparently) Part 3 of the Volcano-series.

Part 1 - Holding On

Part 2 - Jungle Expedition

Eruptions

You come to such a sudden halt that Ace almost bumps into you. He stops just short of you and once again, you can feel him even if he wasn’t touching you. You don’t need your Observation Haki for that. When he is this close, he feels as if he is radiating heat like a freaking miniature sun.

Slowly turning around you simply stare at him, slowly shaking your head.

“You’ll be the death of me,” you tell Ace, still shaking your head. “You’ll be the death of me and I need you to know that I will come back and haunt your sorry ass for all eternity.”

He looks at you, blinks rapidly at your words, and finally cocks his head to the side – not unlike Pops’ dog when you talk to him and he seems to try and get better reception by fine-tuning his head’s position.

You didn’t expect the way a big smile slips onto Ace’s lips, his eyes crinkling as he regards you with so much focus you want to lift up one of the giant leaves surrounding you and slip underneath it, out of sight.

“Just as well,” he says and leans down slightly, bringing you closer. You will yourself to stay rooted in place, not giving an inch. Not to him, of all people! “I don’t like sleeping alone all that much anyways.”

You draw in a breath, your eyes going wide and your scowl dropping from your face and you quickly lower your gaze as if you’re trying to look for it among the underbrush. If you’re lucky, you might find it down there, together with the one or other layer of sanity you’ve shed in the last hour thanks to this man.

“As if I’d sleep with you,” you hiss at an innocent bush that is simply unfortunate enough to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s not even a lie because what you have daydreamed about an embarrassing amount of times has nothing to do with sleep per se and everything with other uses for pretty much any flat surface you happened across.

And whose fault was that?

His.

What business did he have, standing in the middle of the deck on a stupidly hot day, shirtless – of course shirtless, way too often shirtless – and glistening, drops of sweat mesmerizing you as they rolled down over his broad back, following the lines of his well-defined muscles? How was that okay…?!

“That’s fine too,” Ace says and shifts around until he’s in your field of view again – or at the very least his chest is and you snap your head up so fast you almost get whiplash. You meet his brown eyes and for a moment you get distracted by the way the sunlight filters through the trees and paints patterns on his stupidly handsome face – the strong line of his jaw, the freckles dusting his cheeks, the long dark eyelashes that lower as he looks at you.

Perhaps you’re wrong, perhaps it’s the other way around. He will haunt you for all eternity.

“It’s not like there’s nothing else to do, I can think of a lot of things to do instead that are more fun,” he continues and you look at him sharply. You can think of a lot of things too; you’ve had a lot of practice but you’re pretty sure your thoughts don’t exactly match his…-

“Way more fun,” he elaborates and it’s probably just your imagination but it sure feels as if he’s leaning closer at that. You steel yourself because you will not fall for that again. Even if his voice sounds suddenly husky. Even if your traitorous body gravitates towards him as if he’s the moon and you’re the tide and you can’t help his pull. Even if you can’t resist and take a tiny step to bring you closer.

“Yeah?” you murmur and lower your eyelids. You dampen your limps, your mouth suddenly parched. “Like what?” Only after the words leave your mouth do you remember that you’re currently mad at him and you force your feet to take a step back again. Like this, at least you end up without losing any ground, even if you’re not gaining any.

Having noticed how your tone has softened – how could he not? Any softer and you’d be purring – his smile widens and his eyes light up. An annoying trait of his, really; the way he just beams at people, making them feel all fuzzy and warm on the inside.

“If you were a ghost, you could probably go through walls,” he theorizes and you suppress a groan because of course he’s going to take a completely random train of thought to jump onto. “Which, hey, super handy! I mean, imagine the things we could do! You could take a look whether Thatch is in the kitchen and if he’s not, we can go and take all the leftovers to-… oi! Wait!”

You start walking because either you remove yourself from his general vicinity or you flick that bright orange hat from his head, push him against the next best tree – there’s ample choice, you’ll find one that fits – and show him exactly which fun things you have in mind. You’d like to shut him up in the only way that seems to make sense in your head: kissing him speechless.

A brave little brain cell that is doing its very best to stay focused on the task at hand – not letting Ace wreak havoc – tells you that is not the way to go, though, because for all you know you would traumatize the poor guy for life and you are not that kind of person. Just because all the other brain cells are busy fabricating images of much even better things to do with him doesn’t mean you have to act on it.

“Things is,” you throw at him over your shoulder, “I don’t need to wait for Thatch to be gone. I just ask him nicely and he feeds me.” Turning forward again you grasp a branch and push it out of the way and then, because you feel spiteful, you let it snap back toward him. “So I don’t see a benefit for me in that plan of yours.”

He catches the branch before it smacks him straight in the chest – with ease, of course – and his smile drops for a moment. “I know that you’re his favorite. You don’t have to rub it in.”

You roll your eyes. You are not, in fact, Thatch’s favorite. At least you don’t think you are. Thatch likes everybody and he gives everybody nicknames. You just have the benefit of actually being polite, never stealing from the fridge and having the ability to be damn cute if you want to. You can be extra cute when he just made fresh cinnamon rolls and you usually get him to give you as many as you want. “It’s called asking nicely. You should try it one day.”

He’s quiet for a moment – untypically so – and you throw him a glance over your shoulder and notice with surprise that he seems to be… pouting? His eyes meet yours for a moment before he looks to the side. “I doubt it’s just because you’re asking nicely.”

You blink in surprise and can’t quite figure out what he means by that. You do, however, notice that he’s following you and that in turn means that maybe now that he’s somewhat distracted you can get him back toward the harbor without him noticing. Toward the harbor, away from the volcano and closer to successfully fulfilling your task. Hah! Who’d have known you’d get a chance like this? Now… which direction is the harbor again?

You aren’t certain but you don’t dare to stop because if you stop that might give him a chance to realize what you’re doing and so you speed up slightly at the prospect of getting out of this torture in the near future.

However, after several minutes of Ace not uttering a word you are starting to feel freaked out and so you come to a sudden stop and turn to face him. He has clearly not been paying attention because he walks right into you and it kinda feels like being hit by a solid brick wall. You stumble with a little hiss of surprise, your hand shooting out to catch yourself on a brunch before you go down like a felled tree.

Instead, however, it lands on his upper arm at the same time as his large hand finds its way to the small of your back and pulls you toward him even as he is already closing the gap between you to keep you from falling.

Your heart leaps into your throat, your fingers dig into his biceps – not much, mind you, his muscles are too firm beneath your fingertips for that – and you gulp down a sound that is making its way up your chest and over your tongue just in time, too scared it might actually be a whimper. His hand on your lower back is doing things to you. It feels as though he is scorching you, the heat dropping right down between your legs and you’d have tried to extract yourself if most of your weight hadn’t rested on his hand right now.

Or so you tell yourself.

“Whoops,” he says, belatedly, and somehow doesn’t sound very sorry.

You lick your lips and – idiotically so, really – bring your second hand up to hold onto his other arm with it. For stability, you tell yourself, so you can straighten yourself and get back onto your feet. Your fingers land on the black ink on his arm, your index finger right on the A, your other fingers splayed over the rest of the letters. Like this you can feel the muscles in his arms shift when he puts pressure against your lower back, pulling you a bit closer still to help you regain your footing. Close enough for your thighs to brush against his knees, now that your completely useless feet are between his.

“You should watch where you’re going,” you blurt out in an attempt to push aside the feeling in your stomach. You feel like you might puke butterflies any moment now. You can feel your nipples harden with each breath you take, because each breath makes you more aware of his hand and the way his thumb seems to stroke over your back in a minuscule movement. He says nothing and so you quickly press on: “Do you have any idea how freaking solid you are? Mere mortals like me don’t have a chance…-“

“Why are you so angry with me?” Ace interrupts you and you snap your mouth shut. His eyes are fixed on you and there’s no escape, not like this. Not without loosening your grip from his arms – unthinkable – and extracting yourself from this position – impossible.

“I’m not angry with you!” you protest with a scowl instead.

“Well, you certainly look angry whenever you look at me,” he murmurs with a sigh.

You blink in surprise and mull his words over. Do you?

“No I don’t,” you protest almost automatically because maybe you are mad but more at yourself than at him. Was it annoying when he stumbled into the sick-bay with yet another wound you had to clean and bandage? Yes. Yes, because it made you feel flustered and on edge and that was fucking annoying for sure. After more than a year on the Moby Dick you didn’t get flustered that easily anymore. Usually. Plus, you felt kinda bad for being happy that he’d gotten roughed up enough to have to come to you.

“Yes you do,” he counters and frowns at you.

“That’s just what my face looks like!” you snap and realize yourself that you actually do sound angry. Softening your tone you shrug. “I don’t do it on purpose.”

He shakes his head, eyes still on you. “You smile when you look at Marco or Thatch. When you look at me, you scowl.”

That effectively shuts you up for a moment and you feel panic rising in you. Shit. Are you really doing that? And he noticed? Oh, you are so screwed! How are you going to explain this without sounding like a lunatic?!

Unable to come up with an explanation that doesn’t spell out because I cannot deal with the amount of attraction I feel toward you or the things you make me feel you keep silent. It’s even harder to explain considering he is still trying to kill your adoptive father, even if at least he has given up on the daily sneak attacks and everything is at least fair and out in the open now. Well, as fair as a fight against Pops can ever be, anyhow.

“Is it because of the one time I singed your hair?” he asks quietly and his gaze drops to your hair. You had to trim it somewhat after the incident but it honestly wasn’t that bad and you don’t care too much about that. You are far more upset about how your mind is holding onto the memory of Ace above you, his arms caching you in as he looks down at you with concern in his eyes.

“I am really sorry about that, I didn’t think he’d fling me that far and I think I lost consciousness sometime mid-air, otherwise I’d never have landed on you like that or risked hurting you,” he continues and his gaze drops from your hair to your shoulder for a moment. It is only now that you realize that the bikini strap there has somehow managed to slip down over your shoulder together with the strap of your top.

You don’t know what possesses you but you can’t help it, you tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck even more. His muscles beneath your fingers twitch and you can feel his second hand hesitantly land on your hip. Out of the corners of your eyes you can see his gaze roam up over your shoulder to your neck.

You lick your lips and his eyes immediately shift to your face. “That’s not it,” you manage to say because you don’t want him to think you’re upset over a having to trim the ends of your hair. “I hate to break it to you but I’ve been in much more severe scuffles than that and made it out just fine.”

It wasn’t a lie. Those scuffles, however, had definitely left less of an impression on you than the brief interaction with him – and they certainly didn’t give you thirsty daydreams time and again.

He hums in acknowledgement. “Is it because I’m fighting… Whitebeard?” he asks then, stumbling over the words and you wonder if he almost called Pops something different there.

You contemplate his words for a moment and wonder if you should latch onto this excuse. It made sense. It was as good as any. Still, you slowly shake your head. Sure, you’d been as upset as the rest in the beginning but it had actually been Pops who’d calmed you down after you’d gone off on a rant for ten minutes straight while preparing his medication. He’d picked you up and told you that if he wouldn’t let a pup like Ace test his mettle against him, how would that pup ever grow into a proper wolf?

Whatever that had meant, it had at the very least calmed you down enough to be only mildly annoyed at any following attempt to topple Pops.

“You’ve lost… what…? 68 times now?” you ask him, quirking an eyebrow at him and trying to ignore the way his fingers dig into the flesh of your hip. You fail at it, though, and you’re more than aware of how good it feels and how you might lean into his touch more than you’d like to admit. “You’ll never defeat him anyways. So, no, not anymore.”

“69,” the grinds out with a smile that reminds you more of a snarl. It doesn’t scare you, though. For whatever dumb reason you feel perfectly safe here with him, not worried for even a second that he’ll hurt you. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he says, sarcasm dripping off his words like syrup.

Feeling like perhaps you’re reclaiming some control over the situation you place your feet more sturdily on the ground, taking some weight off his hand that is still supporting you. His fingers twitch against the fabric of your back when you do. “Nobody can defeat Pops,” you inform him. That he hasn’t realized as much himself is laughable.  “The sooner you come to that conclusion yourself, the better.”

You’ve triggered something there because he’s leaning down now, bringing his face closer to yours and your breath hitches in your throat. The notion that you have any control whatsoever over the situation quickly leaves you. But then, you’ve always been good at faking that you had your shit together. So you square your jaw and stare right back at him.

“I still have 31 attempts left.” Ace probably doesn’t even realize it himself but he shifts closer and all of a sudden your knees bump against his legs and you dig your fingers into his arms in an attempt to steady yourself. You are close now, way too close. “I will defeat him,” he tells you with such conviction that you’d believe him if you didn’t know who he is talking about.

You raise your chin – it’s not much use, you still have to look up when talking to him, especially now that you’re so close – and do your best to regard him with a bored expression. You take a step back and away from him so you don’t have to crane your neck quite so much. He lets you, but his hands remain on you.

“Sweetheart,” you say with a chuckle, “you could have a hundred left and wouldn’t.”

Truth be told, even you can see that he’s getting stronger with each attempt. So while you are pretty sure that he won’t manage to defeat Pops with another 100 trials – you think that if he’s given a couple more years, he might actually get there. You’d sooner bite off your own tongue than tell him that, though.

Caught in your own thoughts you don’t realize the way he stills at your words, his eyes growing darker as he looks you over. He allows himself a moment before he speaks. “You shouldn’t be too sure about that. I might be stronger than you give me credit for.” His voice is low and if you hadn’t known him you might have felt threatened.

It’s pouring oil into a fire and you know it but you can’t resist. You lift your hand from his arm, brush your thumb over his cheek and finally pat his head much like he has done earlier to you. You’re positively giddy with the way his eyes are widening and the muscles of his arm flex below your fingers in surprise. “You’re for sure more stubborn than I gave you credit for initially. I guess that counts for something.”

Whatever ground you thought you’d won was gone in a single instant, he’s quicker than you thought possible. Within a single moment he has pulled you back toward him and you’re almost flush against him, your hand dropping from his head to his shoulder. An embarrassing startled squeak escapes you when his arm comes around you and presses you close, your nose touching his chest and his mouth suddenly right next to your ear.

It’s unfair, really, because if he’d not committed a war crime right there and incapacitated you with what you can only categorize as biological warfare, you might have been able to throw the one or other sarcastic remark at him. You are doing your best to keep your head straight – both literally and figuratively – and not nuzzle into the crook of his neck. It’s hard, though, and it gets harder with every breath full of his smell you take in. He smells of campfire and earth or maybe it’s just your imagination but even so it makes thinking almost impossible. And then there’s his body against yours, hard and hot and you want nothing more than to jump and wrap your legs around him and…-

He speaks and you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body when you feel his hot breath on the sensitive skin there. “You’re awfully cheeky for somebody so tiny,” he says and flexes his muscles and you know it is to underline his words.

You’ll be damned before you actually give in and admit defeat like this. So you swallow down your heart that has jumped into your throat and hook your arm around his neck, using it as leverage to tiptoe and lean up against him and bring your mouth closer to his ear. With some luck he won’t notice how shaky your breath comes or how meticulously you avoid to brush your breasts against him for fear that he will realize how hard your nipples are right now. “What can I say? You might not want to underestimate me. Size isn’t everything.”

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hip and you almost think that perhaps you’ve rendered him speechless but after a moment he tilts his head and his lips brush against your ear. You swallow, hard. “I’d never dream of underestimating you,” he murmurs.

You feel like you’re having the upper hand right now and you need to use the chance to finally direct him back to the harbor, hand him over to whichever commander you spot first and retreat before your panties were completely soaked through. Then you could take care of yourself… and perhaps regain some grains of sanity.

You settled back down on your feet, brushing against him again and impatiently rubbing your thighs together at the sensation. You withdraw the arm from around his neck and are about to grab one of his hands when you feel him lower his arm from around your waist lower still, barely touching you, down until it is just below your ass. Your eyes widen in alarm when you notice he has hunched down slightly. It is then that you realize you’ve broken one of the most important poker rules.

Never count your winnings because that’s when you start to lose.

“Sometimes, size does matter, though,” Ace informs you happily and lifts you up easily with one arm, throwing you over his shoulder. He does so gently, but quick enough to knock the breath out of you. “Like right now.”

He starts walking and when you start to wiggle off his shoulder, his arm tightens around you to fix you in place. You bring your arms out from underneath you to brace yourself against his back and already want to start snapping at him when you notice that the position gives you a very nice view of his rear.

You blink. His trousers are kinda loose and with each step he takes you become surer that he hasn’t lied. He is, in fact, not wearing any underwear. If you look closely enough, you can see half an outline of a perfectly shaped ass cheek with each of his steps.

You’re torn from your observation when you feel rather than hear him chuckle. “It’s a good thing you were walking us closer to the volcano before, huh? Look, it’s right there.”

With quite some struggle you manage to look past his side and indeed, you can see the gentle slope of the volcano emerging from between the trees. You can even spot the beginnings of the crater in its middle already.

Your face falls. This time it was definitely his fault. He distracted you enough to make you lose what little sense of direction you had and you just brought him closer to the damn thing!

You glower at his back and ready yourself. Oh, it is on, Portgas!

***

It is seven hours, 28 minutes and roughly 5 seconds later that you stumble back into town, your fingers firmly clasped around Ace’s hand as you drag him along behind you. Neither of you speaks a word as you make your way through the streets, ignoring the looks you are getting.

You enter the first bar you find and by chance it’s also the one some of the commanders and their crew have picked for tonight. Ignoring Marco’s raised eyebrows you pull out a chair and press Ace down into it, almost surprised by how readily he allows you to do so – you have no illusion, if he wouldn’t want to, you’d never be able to do it. Then you delicately place the crown of feathers Ace has been gifted by a native tribe down on the table.

Thatch’s chair makes a screeching sound as he pushes it back and stands up. You lift your hand to stop him from coming over to you, then grab the edge of your top and pull it up, wiping at the grime on your face, not caring that you’re showing a whole table full of crew members your blackened bikini top. When you’re pretty sure you’ve removed at least some of it from your face, you turn on your heels and stalk over to the bar.

“Two schnapps please!” you say and hold up two fingers. You feel Marco’s and Thatch’s eyes drill into the back of your head.

The bartender puts down the glasses in front of you and you down first one and then the other. He stares at you and you cough a bit at the biting taste, then indicate him you want two more. He hesitates, you glare, and he refills the glasses.

You take a deep breath and wonder how the hell Portgas D. Ace has survived so far. Could it really be his stubbornness together with dumb luck? How else could you possibly explain what had happened in the last several hours?

The volcano had somehow reacted to Ace’s presence – just as you’d feared. It had started spitting fire – not lava, fire! – and suddenly ash was raining down on you and your surroundings and while you were still arguing with Ace over how the fuck he could stop what he’d somehow started, a tribe of natives had burst from the jungle.

Neither you nor Ace understood a word they said, but you are pretty sure they were about to sacrifice the prettiest man you’d ever seen to the volcano gods – at least he was clad in white, carried on a makeshift little altar and looked all solemn. You are reasonably sure they weren’t just on their daily volcano stroll.

Either way, whatever they’d planned on doing, Ace was having none of it and somehow you’d ended up fighting an entire tribe while trying to evade fireballs raining down on you and little streams of lava that seemed to emerge from the ground.

You still can’t quite fathom how he managed to calm down the volcano, extinguish all the fires and stop the natives. You especially can’t quite fathom how apparently the elders had decided to consider him some sort of king? Or god? Or both?

Whatever the fuck happened… you managed to keep the volcano from erupting fully, you didn’t start a war and as far as you can tell nobody got sacrificed or killed in the process and sure, perhaps there was somebody in the jungle fashioning a statue of Ace from whatever material they could find, but you had managed your task. In a way. But still!

You heave a deep sigh, only then do you take the glasses and return to the table. Apparently you have left Ace alone for too long, because you can hear him talk to Marco and Thatch now.

“Yeah, she was pretty angry because I got her all wet,” he tells them. A grin appears on his face. “Don’t worry, though, I took care of it! I think it’s all good now, she’s just a bit worn out. Nothing that a little sleep won’t cure! Now that I think of it, it might be good to get her out of those clothes first, though.”

You freeze mid-step and stare at him. You feel Marco’s eyes shift to you and you raise one glass and down it. Ace notices you and lifts his hand to wave at you happily. You stare some more. Surely he hasn’t just said what you think you heard?

“Oh, by the way,” he says and turns back to the two commanders. “Do you have any idea where I can buy new underpants?”

[mercy-burning]

She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder. 

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames. 

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor.  From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this? 

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin. 

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him  with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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[darkmulti]

Hello I love your work so much, you are my fav writer I love your style and the way you paint your ideas! <3

I know you must have a lot of requests but could you please do a hard dom CEO jungkook, with innocent reader. Would be nice if you can add corruption kink, degrading and non con. Thank you!

⚠️: NON CON, DEGRADATION, CORRUPTION KINK, INNOCENT!READER, VIRGIN!READER, slapping, choking

-> I’m glad you like my work!! Sorry for the wait tho😭

-> I didn’t “add” too much corruption kink because it’s kinda hard to incorporate corruption kink and non con

-> sorry for any mistakes

“Y/N! In my office now!”

The moment you sat down on your chair, your boss called you again

You quickly stood up and hustled into his office

“Yes, Mr. Jeon. Is something wrong?”

You politely asked

“What the hell did you put in my coffee?”

“Regular, sir. Two milks and one sugar.”

“Did you check the expiration date on the milk?”

“Uh… no”

“God damnit! Are you trying to poison me, Y/N?! You can’t do the simplest tasks right! Get out of my sight.”

“Sir, I can make you another-”

“I said get out!”

You immediately left his office and sped off into your own

You closed the door gently before covering your mouth and bursting out into tears

The constant yelling and degrading was slowly breaking you down

He never appreciated any of your hard work, instead he focused on the small flaws you made

You knew you deserved better so that night you went home and wrote a resignation letter

The next day you went to work and gave it to Mr. Jeon

“Mr. Jeon, this is my resignation letter. I can’t work here anymore. It’s not good for my mental health.”

He poked his inner cheek with his tongue and crumbled the letter

“You have to give me a two weeks notice. That way I can start looking for your replacement. However, I have a business trip next week and you have to come with me.”

“What if I find someone that can take my place?”

“No, I want you to go with me and that’s final.”

Next week

You were at the airport with your carry on bag in hand and your passport in the other

Jungkook was in front of you, leading the way to the private jet

Once you both were seated, he poured himself and you a drink

“So, tell me why you want to quit.” He said, taking a sip of his Blue Label whiskey

You didn’t want to tell him the real reason, which was because of him

You thought it’d make the trip more awkward if he knew that you were quitting because of him and you also didn’t want to sound mean

So the best excuse you could come up with was that you found a more suitable job

You told him lies after lies, thinking that he was believing you

Little did you know, Jungkook could see right through you

He knew the real reason you were quitting was because of him

He was purposely cruel to you and you’ve finally reached your breaking point

It was amusing to him

Did you really think that you could trick him?

How cute

Jungkook knew that whole suitable job excuse was a lie because he keeps his eyes on you all day and night

While you were asleep, Jungkook broke into your apartment and installed tiny cameras all around

So he could keep an eye on you

He also hacked into your phone and installed a tracking app, just in case

He got access to all your emails, social media, phone calls, photos, text messages — ect.

Anyways, back to the private jet

You were in the back of the jet sleeping since it was a long flight and you get air sick

You felt something around your waist so you looked down and see a tattooed arm

You immediately recognized who it was and got up, waking up Jungkook in the process

“I- I’m sorry, sir. You should’ve woke me up and I would’ve given you the bed.”

“It’s fine, we’re about to land anyways.”

After you guys landed, you both headed towards the car in the hangar

The driver took you both to a luxury hotel

The building itself was super unique

The transparent, rooftop pool was definitely something you were looking forward to

Jungkook had paid for your hotel room

You guys had rooms right next to each other so it’s more convenient for him

It was still 10 in the morning, so Jungkook allowed you to sleep for a little while but by 12pm, you guys had to leave for an important meeting

The afternoon was packed with meetings, presentations & preparations for a small business party

You were exhausted because Jungkook kept you running back and forth while he was sitting on his ass

By the end of the day you were tired as hell, but luckily everything went smoothly

Jungkook seemed to be okay with how everything turned out

You were relieved to say the least

He’d usually find something to complain about

It was 10pm when you both arrived at the hotel

Jungkook said he was going to go shower and sleep so you bid goodnight and went into your room

Even though you were physically and mentally exhausted, your mind couldn’t fall asleep

You figured it was because of the amount of coffee you consumed

Since you couldn’t fall asleep, you decided to put on your swimming suit and go upstairs to try out the pool

Once the elevator doors opened, you were surprised to see so many people on the rooftop dancing and drinking

You still went to the pool even though it was loud and packed

On your way to the pool, you accidentally bumped into a group of guys

They notice your somewhat revealing swimming suit and offered a drink

You were going to reject but all of them were pressuring you to have at least one drink with them, so you stupidly agree

One drink turned into two and so on

You started dancing with the guys and they were all cheering you on

This was it

This was the attention you were craving for

You were a little wasted but still had your senses

You held one of the boy’s hand and took him to the swimming pool

“You said you were good at swimming… so make sure I don’t drown.” You drunkly said before jumping in

The man chuckled at your behaviour and jumped in afterward to make sure you don’t do anything dumb

After swimming, you had more drinks and danced more with everyone

The night was going so well until someone pulled you away from all the chaos

“Heyyyy, what’re you doing man? The party’s over there.” You said, pointing back to the crowd

He wasn’t responding so you tried to look at his face but the lights were burning your eyes

You looked down at his arm and recognize his tattoos

Once you realized who he was, it was too late

“M- Mr. Jeon, why’re you up so late?”

He brought you back to his room and shoved you in

Jungkook pushed you against the door and slapped you hard

It brought you back to reality real fast

“Are you dumb, Y/N?! Going upstairs without telling me anything, drinking and dancing with men you don’t know— do you know how dangerous that is?! Is your head hollow?!” He yelled in your face and hit the side of your head a couple of times, checking if it was hollow

“Do you know what they would’ve done to you if I didn’t come?! Let me fucking show you.”

He pushed you towards the bed and you slipped because of your wet feet

You started backing away from him, but you knew you were doomed when your back hit the side of the bed

“Mr. Jeon, please. I was just trying to have fun-” another hard slap landed on your cheek and this one was enough to make you tear up

“Fun? You want to have fun? Okay then, let’s have some fun.”

He pulled you up by your wrist and pushed you down on the bed

“Mr. Jeon, please! I’m so sorry! I don’t know how it all happened!”

You were sobbing at this point because Jungkook looked terrifying

He was beyond pissed and his eyes were showing it all

“You think a “sorry” can fix what you did?! You’re so fucking stupid! This is why I yell at you all the time because your dumb, little head knows nothing. Without me, you wouldn’t be living so comfortably. I give you a good pay, so you can pay rent, buy food and clothes without worrying about money. But, what do I get in return? A resignation letter…” he scoffs before continuing “… You’re just a dumb, naive, whore that would be homeless right now if I didn’t take care of you. Maybe this is why your parents abandoned you.”

Your bottom lip started to wobble and before you knew it, you were bawling your eyes out in front of him

His words were so harsh, you weren’t ready for it at all

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

You apologized over and over and over but he still wasn’t satisfied

“H- how can I make it up? Please, give me a chance.”

His hand went towards your private area and you started shaking your head profusely

“No, no, no… anything but that please…”

“Well, there’s nothing else that you have that I want.”

“I’m n- not comfortable though.”

Jungkook grabbed your face and stared deep into your eyes

“Does it look like I care?”

Jungkook continued on

He ripped your swim suit off and pulled down his pants

“Please be gent-”

You screamed when you felt him push into you

You grabbed his arms and tried to push him away but he easily dominated you

He pinned your hands above your head and spat down on his cock for some lube

Without any warning, he pushed his full length in, causing you to squirm around and cry

Your purity blood dripped down onto the bed sheets while you kept pleading for him to stop

“Mr. Jeon, please! I- I was sa- saving till marriage.” You sobbed

“That’s even better. Now we can get married.”

“No! No! I don’t want that.”

Jungkook pushed your legs apart and started going at a fast pace

“You don’t want to get married to me? Well, that’s too bad because I don’t care about what you want.”

Each of his thrust were powerful and rough

He wrapped his hand around your neck so anytime you rejected him in a way, he’d squeeze until you’d shut up

Your face was hot and red from all the slapping and choking

He covered your neck in hickeys

All night, he was fucking you

The headboard was banging against the wall so hard, it left dents in the wall

There was cum overflowing out of you, but Jungkook still didn’t stop

He pounded you until your body gave up on you

You couldn’t fight anymore

You weren’t talking, crying or moving

All you could do was whimper softly when it really hurt

Jungkook noticed you were on the verge of passing out, so he quickened up his pace and came into you before collapsing on top of you

“You would’ve been in so much more pain if I didn’t save you from those guys. So what do you say to me?”

You weakly open your eyes and look into his

“T- Thank you.” You whisper softly before falling unconscious

Decided to end it here bc I don’t have the brain power to continue writing. Sorry for any mistakes. It’s 2am

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 16: Heartstrings

Pairing: hitman!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, angst, fluff

WC: 7.3k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, teenage heartbreak :(, two bumbling fools that are emotionally constipated, I think that’s it

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Previous > Next

6 years ago:

"Mina, I'm so nervous!"

Mina laughs lightly at the way you bounce up and down on your bed, "It'll be fine, ____! He'll totally like you back, girl don't even worry about it!"

You let out a nervous giggle as you jump off your bed and run to your closet, "What should I wear?" 

"____, you literally have a school uniform," Mina laughs again. 

You turn and pout at her, "Heyy, I know that! I was asking which one I should wear, the burgundy socks or the white ones? Tie or no tie? Blazer or no blazer? Long-sleeved or short?"

Mina shakes her head in amusement, "You're cute and he'll think so no matter what you wear," She rubs her chin in thought, "But definitely the white socks, the burgundy tie with the grey sweater vest instead of the blazer, and long sleeves."

You do a little dancy dance of excitement before grabbing the decided clothes out of your closet and hurrying to pull them on. Mina is already dressed in her uniform, waiting patiently as she sits on your bed. 

When you're all ready to go, you grab the little box on your bedside table and run out of your room, causing Mina to stumble after you. 

_______

By the time lunch rolls around, you're buzzing with excitement at the prospect of getting to see him. 

Not to mention being able to finally tell him how you feel. 

Mina is by your side the whole way to your locker as you grab the little box out. 

She nudges your shoulder as you two walk to the cafeteria, "You can do this, ____."

You nod, your tummy all in knots to the point that you're not sure if you'll even be able to eat. 

Despite that, you finish everything on your tray while your legs bounce in anticipation. 

Once you two make your way outside to the field, you are trying your hardest not to hightail it back inside. Mina holds your arm though, preventing you from doing so. 

"You can't back out now, babe."

Mina's words terrify you but you know she's telling the truth, you can't just go on without at least trying. 

A bunch of kids are milling around outside, some of the boys showing off to the girls as they size how tall they are compared to each other.

Then you see him, in all his glory. 

He's standing in the field with a few other boys from his class, chatting. 

His dark blonde hair glistens in the sunlight as he laughs at something one of his friends said. 

You feel your heart leap to your throat and you freeze, "I- I can't..."

"____," Mina turns to you, placing her hands on your shoulders, "I am not about to let you give up now, not right before you do it! Just go over there. If you can't speak, then just hand it to him, simple as that. He'll understand when he opens it anyway."

You nod stiffly, "What about his friends?" Your voice shakes, "I'm scared to do it in front of them."

Mina nods, "I got this." 

You're about to protest but she's gone, already marching her way over to them. 

You watch in embarrassment as Mina taps one of the boys on the shoulder. He turns and smiles when he sees her. Mina is gorgeous, of course he'd smile when she spoke to him. 

You're really her only friend, as she is yours, but the boys are constantly swarming around her nonetheless. 

You start to feel self-conscious when you see the boy making your heart thump heavily look at Mina and smile brightly. 

Shoot, what if he likes her?

You can't compare to her. 

Besides, she's your best friend, you'd give him up for her if she wanted him.

You'd do anything for her. 

You snap out of it when you see Mina leading the two boys that were with him away, then she gestures at you behind her back. 

You force your feet to move as you hurry over to him before he moves on to talk with someone else. 

Just as he's turning, you're coming up. 

He almost bumps into you, a surprised gasp slipping from his lips as he notices you. 

"Oh, sorry! I didn't see you there."

You smile crookedly, "It's- It's fine!" You squeak out. 

His smile widens as he looks at you, "You're ____, right? Tenth grade?" 

You nod like a darn bobblehead, your words suddenly stuck in your throat. 

He's so handsome. 

And cute. 

And sweet. 

And thoughtful.

And-

"I'm Jimin," He reaches a hand out to you, "It's nice to officially meet you."

You take his hand, letting him shake it as his bright smile continues to beam. 

"I know, um," You need to get it together, "You're in eleventh."

He nods, "Yes, only one and a half years left of these ridiculous uniforms," He chuckles. 

You nod stupidly, "Uh, yeah," A nervous laugh slips from your mouth.

Just do it, rip it off like a band-aid.

"I uh- I have something for you."

He looks at you with curiosity, his pretty eyes glancing down to the box in your hands. 

Then his smile fades. 

Your heart stops in your chest when you see the look of recognition on his face. 

He's been confessed to before, of course he has. 

Your shoulders slump. 

You just want the ground to open up and swallow you. 

He looks back up at you and gives you a gentle smile. 

The smile of rejection. 

"____, you're really sweet-"

Oh, no. 

"I would say yes in a heartbeat, really. You're different from the other girls here, you care about people, I can tell. I've seen it-"

"But?" Your voice comes out as a whisper.

His smile turns sad, "But there's a girl I like already. I'm sorry, ____."

It feels like someone just tore out your heart and stomped it into the ground. 

You don't say anything. 

You can't. 

It hurts too much. 

You just open the box and pull out the note, tucking it into your palm before closing the box again and handing it to him. 

Jimin takes it reluctantly, still watching you carefully, his eyes sad and regretful.

"____-"

"I hope you like the cookies," You smile at him, finally meeting his eyes, "Just think of it as a friendship gift, nothing more."

Jimin nods, still looking guilty as hell. 

"I hope it works out for you Jimin, I really do."

"Thank you, ____."

Then you turn and walk away, pieces of your heart falling behind you with each step you take. 

A minute later you hear Mina calling to you, but you don't stop. 

You hurry inside and to the locker rooms. 

You're hiding in a stall when you hear the door to the girls' locker room open and Mina's voice call out, "____, are you in here?"

You don't answer and a moment later the door shuts, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You curl up, pulling your knees to your chest as the tears finally come.

You wish you could just disappear. 

The thought that you need to see him the rest of this school year and the next before he leaves is sickening. 

Your heart has never hurt more than it does now, it feels like a bunch of swords are impaling it over and over again. 

Fourth grade. 

You had liked him since you were in fourth grade, he was in sixth. 

It was the day that you had tripped and spilled your lunch tray all over yourself. 

This angel had appeared, pulling you to your feet with the brightest smile you'd ever seen. He had taken you to get another uniform in the office and even got you another tray of food. 

He only ever said hello in passing after that, but you were infatuated. 

You thought you had loved him. 

Another sob cuts through the silence in the locker room as you realize you don't want it anymore.

You hope you never fall for anyone again. 

Love is just a terrible joke, made to hurt the weakest, the ones that fall for it.

________________

"____?" 

The handsome man standing before you makes your heart lurch.

What kind of joke is this?

You take a step back and clear your throat, "P-P-Park J-Jimin?"

His smile returns as he lets out a small laugh of disbelief, "You remember me?"

You nod reluctantly. 

Jimin looks into your eyes just like he did that one day in elementary school, an angel appearing out of nowhere to save you. 

"But, how?" He asks, clearly bewildered, "After the accident, you never..."

You suddenly realize you're standing there like an idiot, so you open the door wider and gesture for him to come in. 

He walks in and sets the pizza you ordered on your kitchen table. 

"D-Do you have t-t-time to talk?" You ask bravely. 

Jimin nods, "Of course."

You two end up on the couch, an awkward silence falling around you. 

You can't look him in the eyes because every time you do, he's just staring at you like you're the lost puppy he'd been looking for for years. 

"It's been so long," Jimin says quietly, "It's been like six years since we actually spoke."

You nod, "The d-d-day you rejected me." 

When you look up at him he looks heartbroken, so you give him a small smile, "I'm j-just giving you a hard t-t-time."

Jimin nods sadly, "I'm so confused. I just- I thought you had forgotten me after you were in the hospital..."

You say nothing so he continues, "No, you did. You did forget about me, I tried talking to you and-"

"I know," You whisper, "I'm s-s-sorry Jimin, but I lied."

That makes him freeze.

"You and M-Mina were the only two I r-r-really remembered."

It's silent for a minute, then he whispers, hurt, "But why?"

You look back at him, "It h-h-hurt too much to talk to y-you. I'm sorry."

Jimin nods sadly, "Don't apologize, I understand. But, how did you remember me?"

You laugh, embarrassed, "I had k-kind of been in l-l-love with you since elementary s-school."

Jimin's eyes bulge out of his head, "What?"

"Yeah, since w-we met. After you had h-h-helped me clean the mess I made." Jimin looks lost for a minute, then his eyes light up with recognition, "Oh! Oh, really?"

You nod, another laugh slipping out. 

"So, you didn't lose your memory of me...because you still had your memories from elementary school?"

Another nod.

"But then, how did you remember me rejecting you?" The words taste bitter in his mouth.

You shrug, "I don't know, I j-j-just did. A few th-things came b-back to me after leaving the h-hospital."

"I'm sorry that had to be one of them," Jimin whispers. 

"It's o-okay, you had n-no obligation to like me b-back," You take a deep breath, already feeling better after getting that off your chest, "Whatever h-happened to the girl y-y-you had liked? Did you a-ask her out?" 

Jimin nods with a sad smile, "Yeah."

"A-And?"

"We dated until college...then I found out she cheated on me and we broke up."

Your heart breaks at that, "J-Jimin, I'm so-sorry."

"Don't be, it was for the best."

You sit in more silence for a bit, but this time it feels more comfortable. 

Then Jimin speaks up again, "So what are you up to these days, ____? Any special man in your life?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you jokingly. 

You laugh, "I am a k-k-kindergarten t-teacher."

Jimin's eyes light up, "Really? Congratulations, ____. You seriously deserve it."

"Th-Thank you. And w-what about you?"

Jimin sighs and gestures at his outfit, "Clearly I'm not as successful as you," You laugh and shake your head as he continues, "I'm just working this delivery job until I get my foot in the door for some journalist positions."

Your eyes grow wide, "R-Really?"

He nods, "I've always wanted to be a reporter, a journalist, something like that. It's a lot harder than it looks though."

You nod, "W-Well I'm rooting for y-you."

"Thank you," He smiles warmly at you, "You were always the sweetest."

You blush at that and Jimin continues, "You never answered my previous question," He squints at you playfully as he points at you, "Any special guys?"

You're about to shake your head, then Jungkook pops into your brain. 

His dark eyes penetrating your thoughts, his rosebud lips sneaking into your mind. 

Jimin sees you hesitate and a knowing smile grows on his face, "Ah-ha! There is someone!"

You look at him, blushing profusely, "Th-There isn't-"

"Liar!" Jimin cackles, clapping his hands, "You are so in love!"

His words startle you, "I'm n-not! It isn't l-like that."

Jimin wipes at the gleeful tears in his eyes as he leans closer to you, inspecting your face carefully. 

"I know that look, ____. You're smitten."

You splutter, "I-I-I am n-not smitten!"

Jimin smirks at you and you fight the urge to smack him.

Then he glances around your living room, "It's beautiful in here, did you decorate it yourself?"

You nod proudly, glad he's changed the subject. 

You two make small talk for a few more minutes, just catching up on life. 

Then Jimin looks at his watch, "Shit, I gotta go. Bossman will be livid with me for taking so long," He stands up and you follow him to the door. 

"Thanks for having me, ____. It was wonderful to catch up with you."

You smile brightly, "I'm s-s-so glad that we were able to m-meet again."

Jimin gives you one last smile as he walks out the door, but before you can close it, he turns around, "Do you..."

You raise an eyebrow in question. 

"Do you think we could meet up again sometime? Grab a coffee or something?"

You nod happily, "I w-w-would love that."

You end up exchanging numbers before he hurries on his way. 

Closing the door, a huge smile spreads on your face. 

Park Jimin. 

Your first love. 

Delivering a pizza to your door. 

Who would've thought?

After a moment to process, you start to giggle uncontrollably. 

What the heck just happened?

_____________

Jungkook is jogging up the stairs leading to your apartment when a pizza delivery guy comes down at the same time. 

He smiles at Jungkook and moves past him. 

Thinking nothing of it, Jungkook hurries to your door and knocks three times, waiting anxiously. 

The door opens rather quickly like you'd been standing there. 

"Ji- oh..."

Your eyes are wide as you stare at Jungkook.

He gives you a small smile, "Um, hi."

He sees you swallow thickly as you observe him, it takes you a minute to respond.

"H-Hi."

Jungkook bites his lip, not sure how to go about saying what he wants to say next. 

"W-What are y-you doing here?" You beat him to it. 

The way you say it makes his stomach turn a little. 

When he doesn't respond, you sigh and reach up to rub your tired eyes, "J-Jungkook..."

He wishes he could say something, anything. 

But it's like every single word he's ever known is suddenly gone out of his brain and he knows nothing. 

You look so sleepy, the events from the past week are probably weighing on you right now.

Jungkook thinks as his gaze drifts over your exhausted face, his heart pulling apart in his chest as Mina's story comes barreling back into his mind. 

After another beat of silence, Jungkook finally finds his voice and you decide to be honest with him at the same time. 

"____, will you go somewhere with me-"

"J-Jungkook I'm t-tired of th-this-"

You both shut up and look at the other. 

Jungkook's heart sinks in his chest at your words. 

Your own heart feels like someone is poking at it with a sharp stick. 

"What?" Jungkook whispers.

You cover your face with your hands, "I- I j-just..."

"Can I come in? Please?" Jungkook asks hopefully, wanting to correct things before shit hits the fan.

You nod and open the door wider for him to slip inside. 

He immediately notices the pizza box on the table and his mind wanders back to the guy passing him earlier. He lets it go as he stands there, waiting for you to shut the door. 

You do, then you walk over to the couch and plop down, curling your legs up and tucking them near you as you grab a pillow and hold it tightly to your chest. 

Jungkook takes a few very deep and very calming breaths before walking over to the couch to sit down. 

He needs to just keep breathing, or else he'll mess shit up again with his stupidity. 

You fidget quietly as Jungkook stares at the Barbie movies in the glass cabinet under the TV. He doesn't know why he can't seem to look away from them. 

"She just finds comfort in things like coloring, watching movies, eating sweets. Her brain was damaged, badly. But it's gotten so much better since then, she's made so much progress. She might act like a kid sometimes, but she isn't one and doesn’t think she is. ____ was innocent before and she's innocent now-"

Jungkook's breath hitches as he remembers Mina's words. 

"Did y-you speak t-to M-Mina?" 

Jungkook turns to you when you speak up quietly, noticing the way you won't even look at him. Your eyes are locked on the pillow in front of you as you pick at the loose threads. 

"Yeah," He mumbles back. 

You finally raise your eyes to his, "I- I think you sh-should leave."

Jungkook's heart stutters painfully. 

"____, I need to talk to you."

"A-About what?"

"I-..." What does he say? He needs to get you out of here, he's run out of time, "I know this sounds dumb, but would you go somewhere with me? Just for a little bit."

You just stare at him, your eyes reflecting a pain he's never seen in you before, even after he was horrible to you in the rain, even after his dumb ass forced you to go home and ruined your day. 

This pain is a first. 

He shifts his body towards you more, "____, what's going on? Are you oka-"

"No."

He freezes, his mind short-circuiting at your bitter response. 

"No, I'm n-not. I'm n-n-not okay."

You can see the way his eyes flicker back and forth between yours and it makes your heart race. 

You can't handle this. 

You don't like pain, you don't like it. 

You always run from it. 

Maybe you are just a child. 

More reason to put an end to this anyway. 

The insecurities swarming your head finally come out, in an angry huff of air, startling Jungkook when you stand up abruptly, still gripping the pillow. 

"I n-n-need you to leave."

Jungkook stands up too, his tall frame looming over you and making you look down at the ground.

"I can't," He mutters.

Your eyes trail up to his, anger burning in them. 

Why is life so unfair?

Why can't someone just like you, for you? 

Why does reality always have to come and bite you in the butt?

"Go to M-Mina," You seethe. 

Jungkook looks at you like you're crazy, his mind going in circles trying to figure out what the hell you're talking about.

"____, what?"

"You h-h-heard me," You swallow the lump in your throat. 

Curse this stupid stutter. 

You can't even tell someone something and be taken seriously. 

Jungkook shakes his head slowly, his confused gaze locked on your angered one. 

"Why would I want to go to her?"

You scoff, making Jungkook take a step back to observe you in disbelief. 

What happened to you?

Were you really that mad about him asking you for her number? He didn't need it because he liked that brat, he needed it because he needs to save you. 

But you don't know that. 

How could he expect you to?

"Just...get o-out," Your voice is thick with tears. 

Jungkook shakes his head again and takes a step towards you, his hand stretched out. 

But you step back, away from him. 

"Stop h-h-hurting me!" You suddenly raise your voice. It isn't anywhere near a yell but it shocks him enough. You never raise your voice...

"I'm sorry-"

You close your eyes and take a long breath as if to calm yourself down. 

"I kn-know you like M-Mina. Don't m-make me hurt anymore by h-having to let go while y-y-you're standing right in f-front of me!"

Jungkook steps forward and grabs your hand, but you don't open your eyes. 

You dare not look at him. 

Not ever again. 

Or you'll break. 

You love Mina more than anything, you'd do anything for her. 

That's why she was always pushing you away from Jungkook. 

She likes him. 

And of course, he likes her back.

The pain in your heart is causing your breath to shorten. 

If you look at him now, you won't have the strength to give him up for her. 

"____, I swear I don't like her-"

It isn't true.

"I just needed to ask her something!"

Stop trying to spare me the pain, just leave me alone. 

"____, please look at me," Jungkook pleads. 

No. 

You shake your head, keeping your eyes closed tight. 

Jungkook sighs in exasperation, "I had to ask her about your accident!!"

At that, your watery eyes slowly open. 

Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your beautiful eyes land on him. 

Then you take your hand out of his and he feels his next breath stutter.

"What?" You whisper. 

The words get caught in his throat for a second before he's able to shove them out, "I had to ask her about Kihyun, and the accident...I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I swear ____, I don't like her like that. Hell, I don't like her at all! Not to mention she hates my guts!"

Your jaw clenches and Jungkook wants to just beg you to listen to him, to please not be mad and just listen to him. 

"I w-was in a c-c-car accident..."

Jungkook does a double-take at your words. 

"What d-d-d-does that have t-to do with you or Kihyun? How is th-that any of your business?!"

Jungkook just stares at you as your face turns red, "I w-want you to leave me alone p-please. Stop playing w-with my h-heart and running out on m-me."

Jungkook feels like he's about to explode. 

With anger, sadness, regret, and this weird protective stuffy feeling he gets when he's around you.

"I'm sorry-"

"And I f-forgave you."

He flinches at that. 

"But an empty a-apology means n-nothing, J-Jungkook."

"It-...It isn't empty. ____, I know I'm stupid, I'm a grade A idiot! A fucking moron! But I never meant to hurt you by running out, I just- I panicked..." He's fumbling over his words, not even understanding what he's trying to say at this moment. 

"W-Why would you g-go behind my back to t-talk about me?! Why not j-just come to me??"

"I didn't think you-"

"Didn't think I r-remembered it?"

Your voice is bitter, laced with hurt. 

Jungkook nods slowly. 

You scoff, "Y-You're right, I d-d-don't. I had to rely on M-Mina to tell me that m-my family died in a c-c-car crash and I w-was the only one that survived."

His chest hurts. 

"Did y-you want to m-make fun of m-me? Figure out exactly w-why I sp-sp-speak like a fr-freak? Why everyone t-t-treats me like a ch-child?"

Jungkook's brows furrow, "Why on earth would you ever think something like that?"

"B-Because I'm n-not like you, J-Jungkook. You c-could get any g-g-girl that you want, but I w-was stupid enough to th-think it would be-...never m-mind."

Jungkook's brain is racing, he has no idea what you're getting at. 

He doesn't understand what the hell girls are thinking or trying to say. 

He knows he's an idiot, he doesn't know how to fix that. 

But he needs to fix this. 

And quickly. 

He steps forward to grab your hands again, but this time you don't pull away, "____, I never meant to make you think I was using you to get to Mina if that's how you feel. I wasn't. I needed Mina to tell me because I was worried about you, I swear," His voice is firm. 

You look at him, unsure. 

Jungkook sighs, "I didn't go to you because I thought that you wouldn't remember, but more so because I didn't want to hurt you further if you did. I didn't want to stir up anything that you'd want to put away. I realize now that that was shitty of me to go behind your back, I should've come to you first, it was your story to tell. I'm sorry."

You blink, taken aback by how honest and sincere he seems right now. 

You'd been hurting from all the running away and ignoring you and all that he's been doing recently. 

This is the first time it feels like he's actually taking you seriously. 

You bring your eyes up to his, "I'm s-s-sorry for lashing o-out. I have f-f-feelings like every-yone else and I w-was hurt."

Jungkook nods, "It's okay, I'm sorry too." His deep brown eyes search yours carefully as you continue, "You c-c-can like Mina, I-I-I underst-stand. She's b-beautiful..."

Jungkook takes you by surprise when he starts to chuckle. You look at him curiously, "W-Why are you l-l-laughing?"

Jungkook gently lets go of your hands, making you miss the warmth of them instantly. 

He brings his hands up to run through his hair, "I can't believe you think I'd fall for Mina."

You scowl, "Why w-wouldn't you?"

Jungkook lets out an amused scoff, "She's not my type."

"Oh, y-yeah? What i-is your type then?" 

He looks at you and you make eye contact for a second before your gaze darts away. Jungkook keeps his eyes on you for a moment longer. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jungkook says teasingly, noting that your cheeks turn pink as you shake your head in denial, "I d-d-don't care."

He laughs lightly and you feel your heart lift in your chest. 

A minute passes in silence as the two of you try to think of what to say next.

You're a bit embarrassed about your outburst, but you know he understands. 

You were valid in your feelings and he seems genuinely sorry for everything.

Jungkook's head is in a completely different place, trying to go about how to ask you to leave Seoul with him. 

This is ridiculous, you'll never agree.

You watch as Jungkook's eyes dart around the room as if he's trying to figure something out. 

"Y-You okay?" You ask, a bit worried. 

Jungkook looks up, his eyes finding yours. 

Just do it, Jeon. 

Don't be a wuss.

"Will you leave Seoul with me?"

He blurts it out, figuring he'll chicken out if he doesn't. 

Your eyes widen and you're shocked into silence for a good minute. 

When the initial shock leaves you, you blink a few times. 

Jungkook just stands there stupidly. 

"Um..."

He winces at your hesitation although it was inevitable. 

"...w-why?"

Damn it, he knew you'd ask, you'd be stupid not to. 

He needs to make something up, fast. 

"This- this seems like the worst timing possible... But I was...invited to uhm, to a thing, a thing in uhm, in Busan. It's like uh, a uh, a school reunion? Thing? Kind of? It's uh...."

Fuck he's a bumbling idiot. 

Before he can make a bigger fool out of himself, you burst into laughter. 

His chest feels lighter at the sound.

Well, at least he made you laugh...

You wipe at your eyes as you double over in laughter, a good contrast to what you were doing a little while ago, so he'll take it. 

Jungkook just stands there, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches you make fun of him. 

When you finally catch your breath, you look at him to see him scowling darkly. 

You feel like it would scare anyone else, but it doesn't scare you. 

You poke at his chest, the last of the giggles leaving your lips. 

Jungkook stiffens when you touch him, but he will not let you know that your touch affects him. 

"Are you finished?" He asks, trying to appear unamused. 

You nod, still wiping away the tears of mirth from your eyes. 

"So, w-what you're tr-trying to say is, you want me to go to B-Busan with you for a school r-r-reunion?"

He nods in embarrassment at the silly lie. 

You laugh again, "Well, w-why didn't y-you just say that? I'd l-love to g-g-go with you!"

Well...that was easy. 

Jungkook bites back a smile at the way you shake your head and giggle at him. 

"W-When is it?"

"We'd have to leave tonight...like, you should pack now."

"Oh," You look at him in surprise, "Oh, um. O-Okay...how long w-will we be gone?"

The ridiculous contrast to what was happening a few minutes ago and now is going to give you whiplash. A moment ago you were yelling at him to stop hurting you and now you're agreeing to go to Busan with him... 

What kind of a day was this?

"Uh, I'm not sure, I was hoping to just spend some time there and go sightseeing, maybe?" Jungkook answers your question awkwardly. 

Your warm smile makes him swallow painfully, "I w-would love that. School d-doesn't start for an-another three weeks."

"Perfect," Jungkook nods, "Then it's settled, go pack."

You shriek in excitement and hurry to the back with a little skip to your step, "V-Vacation!"

Jungkook lets out a long breath, his heart skipping a beat at the happy humming floating from your room. 

Thank goodness he was successful in that. 

But what makes him feel even better, is the fact that your beautiful smile is back. 

__________

"Sh-Should I tell Mina?"

Jungkook's grip tenses on the wheel at your words. 

He isn't sure why, but he doesn't want Mina to know where the two of you are going. 

"Nah, I already told her I was going to ask you to come with me. She knows," Jungkook prays that you'll fall for it, biting his lip harshly. 

"Oh," You squeak from the passenger seat. 

He swallows his heart that leapt to his throat at the adorable sound.

You look out the side window, watching as the sun starts to set, your head leaning against the glass. 

"How l-long will it t-t-take us to get there?" You ask quietly, your eyes still glued to the beautiful colors running across the sky. 

Jungkook glances at his phone where the directions are. 

"Mm, since there's hardly any traffic, hopefully four hours?" 

Your eyes widen a little and you make a small sound of acknowledgment. 

"Hm, ok."

Jungkook drags his eyes back to the road, telling himself that he's not allowed to look at you the whole way lest he get distracted and crash the car like a fool.

Jungkook has some soft music playing in the background, making you smile softly to yourself. You didn't think him the type of person to listen to classical instrumental music, but it's nice and relaxing, especially for how tired you are. 

An hour into the drive, you feel your eyes getting extremely heavy. You keep blinking them rapidly to keep yourself awake, but every time you blink it gets harder and harder to open them again. 

Jungkook, as well as he had done the first hour, fails his own rule as he glances at you. 

He had noticed the way you were shifting and jerking around for the past few minutes. 

"Hey, you okay?" Jungkook asks gently before returning his gaze to the road. 

You nod sleepily, a tiny yawn slipping out of you. 

"J-Just a little s-sleepy is all."

A soft smile appears on Jungkook's face and you feel your chest warm at the sight. You can't stop staring at his side profile, the line of his jaw, and his adorably big nose, even his lashes are long and beautiful. 

"You can take a nap you know-"

"Nooo, no no," You wave a hand in the air dismissively, "I'm n-not tired at all!"

Jungkook stifles a laugh at you contradicting yourself within thirty seconds. 

He nods, "Okay, then you don't have to take a nap."

You smile drowsily, appearing almost drunk in a way. 

Jungkook glances at you again. 

Drunk from exhaustion, you most certainly are. 

What a rollercoaster of a day.

He sighs, a gentle sound as he turns back to keep his eyes forward, "You look really sleepy."

"Y-You look really p-pretty..." 

Jungkook, startled at your words, looks at you with wide eyes, "Huh?"

No one has ever called him pretty before...

You have an elbow against the console, your chin in your hand as you gaze up at him dreamily. 

"I'm s-s-sorry I said all th-that mean st-stuff back at my apartment," You whisper, lips turning down into a pout. 

Jungkook fidgets, "It's fine, ____. I deserved to get snapped at."

You shake your head, "Noooo," You say cutely, smacking your lips, "Nooo, you d-deserve th-the whooooooole world!" You gesture out, almost smacking him in the face. 

Jungkook chuckles. 

You're just tired yet you act like you've been drinking nonstop.

"You, J-Jungkook, you d-deserve to a...a? A h-hug."

He feels a pinching in his chest at your words.

"Thanks, ____." 

You nod, your head lolling to the side as you start to drift off to sleep again, then you jerk suddenly as you remember something. 

"M-My first love!"

Jungkook looks at you, bewildered.

"He-...b-brought it to me..."

Jungkook arches an eyebrow at you, "Who brought what to you, ____?"

"An angel brought m-me food t-today!"

Jungkook nods along with your nonsensical rambling, "That's cool," He muses as he passes a car on the highway.

"Yeahh..." 

After that, you fall silent. 

He glances over at you after you haven't spoken for a few minutes, to see your head resting against the seat, your mouth open slightly as you sleep soundly. 

He fights the smile that's creeping its way onto his face, trying as hard as he can to pay attention to the road. 

Jungkook reaches up a hand and slaps it across his face, harder than he had meant to. 

He winces in pain, but at least it got him to think straight. 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the road (mostly) the rest of the way. 

It's kind of lonely with you sleeping beside him, but he doesn't really mind.

  It's around one in the morning when Jungkook gently shakes your shoulder. 

You stir, your eyes opening into little slits as you look around in confusion. 

"W-Where am I?" You ask, mumbling almost incoherently. 

"We're here, ____. We're in Busan," Jungkook says softly, his hand still on your shoulder. 

Once you're able to open your eyes all the way, you see the inside of Jungkook's car, then you turn your head to the right to see him standing outside your door, holding it open as he smiles at you. 

"Oh," You say in surprise, "I f-forgot we were on v-vacation."

Jungkook chuckles at that, "Come on, ____. Let's get you to bed."

He reaches around you to unbuckle your seat belt, then you watch quietly as he grabs your purse and slings it over his shoulder. 

Next, he grabs your hand and helps you out of the car. 

You take in the sight of a small motel, very simple, very dark, and very very cute. 

Jungkook watches your eyes light up at the place you'll be staying tonight. 

"It's s-so cute," You whisper sleepily. 

Jungkook shrugs, "I've never considered a motel to be cute before, but it's decent."

You keep a hold of his hand as you climb out of the car, then you shyly let go and follow him to the trunk where he pulls out both of your suitcases. 

"I can c-carry something," You offer as you see him start moving with both of the cases to the front of the motel. 

Jungkook shakes his head, his floofy brown hair flopping about, "I'm all good."

You bite back a laugh at the sight of him wheeling two suitcases with a purse slung over his arm, then you hurry to catch up to him. 

Inside, there's a very small old man at the front desk, reading a newspaper. 

He looks up when you and Jungkook walk in. 

A friendly smile graces his features as he sets the paper down, "Hello there, how can I help you?"

"Hi," Jungkook clears his throat, "I called about two rooms earlier today...well, I guess it was technically yesterday..."

The man nods and grabs this little notebook, "Perfect! Name?"

"Uhm...Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook,” He says lowly. 

Ohhhh, Jeon?

Even his last name suits him. 

You see him fidgeting a little as the older man flips through the notebook, "Ah yes! Right here."

Then he turns to grab a key out of a little cabinet, "Your rooms will be one twenty-three and one twenty-two-"

He pauses, his hand freezing over an empty cubby in the cabinet. 

"Uhm...one moment."

He shuffles behind a little curtain leading to a different room. 

Jungkook looks back at you with a puzzled expression and you shrug, you don't have any idea what's going on either. 

A minute later the man comes out with a regretful look on his face. 

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Jeon. It would appear as though someone accidentally gave your rooms away without looking at the reservations," The man looks terribly guilty. 

Jungkook bites his lip, "Uhm, alright, well can I get two other rooms then?"

The man nods quickly and ruffles through his notebook, then he looks at Jungkook again. 

"We only have one room available. I sincerely apologize, this was my mistake-"

"Don't worry about it," Jungkook gives him a tight-lipped smile, "We'll take it. Thank you."

After getting your key, you and Jungkook walk out to find your room, not speaking until you get there. 

Once Jungkook unlocks the door and opens it for you, he gives you an embarrassed smile, "Sorry, ____. I would take us somewhere else but it's late and-...I'll sleep on the floor."

You turn to him, "D-Don't be silly. We'll both sl-sleep on a bed."

He looks at you, bewildered, then his gaze follows your outstretched arm as you point at the bed. 

Or...

The beds. 

AH! A MIRACLE!

Jungkook sighs in relief, letting the door close behind him as he sets your suitcases to the side. 

"Well this isn't so bad," He says as he looks around the room, taking in the twin beds with satisfaction. 

Then he looks at you to see you gazing around in wonder, gently touching the bed and making your way over to the bathroom to peek your head inside. 

When you turn back to him, your eyes are lit up like stars in the night sky. 

"It's b-beautiful!" 

Jungkook does one more look over.

There are twin beds with white covers and pillows, a nightstand between them and  TV on a desk in front along with a coffee machine and glass mugs. 

Meh, it's not a crappy place, he's been in far worse, but he's also been in far better. 

Then something clicks and he looks at you again, "Wait, have you never been to a hotel- or- a motel before?"

You shake your head, your innocent eyes never leaving his. 

Jungkook lets out a short laugh of disbelief, "Huh."

You walk over to your suitcase and grab it, pulling it with you to the bathroom, "I'm g-going to change."

"Uh-huh," Jungkook says, still trying to process the fact that you've never stayed in a place like this before. 

When he hears the bathroom door close, he walks over to his suitcase and opens it up, grabbing out a t-shirt and some pajama shorts. 

He makes quick work of changing, then he settles on the left bed, a groan leaving his lips as he lays back. 

A moment later, the door to the bathroom opens and Jungkook sees you walk out shyly, a simple lilac nightgown draping around your frame. 

He looks away quickly, fixing his gaze on the black screen of the television positioned in front of the twin beds. 

You hurry over and climb into the bed on the right, slipping underneath the covers and sighing happily. 

"Th-These beds are s-so comfy!"

Jungkook hums in response, his eyes still glued to the TV even though it's off.

You pull the covers up to your chin and close your eyes, letting out a tiny yawn. 

At the sound, Jungkook's resolution crumbles and he glances over at you. 

The way your eyelids flutter and your lips part slightly as you breathe makes his heart beat rapidly. 

Suddenly, your eyes pop open and you're staring right back at him.

He was so startled when it happened that he didn't even look away, instead, his gaze stays locked on yours, eyes wide. 

It feels like an eternity passes as the two of you just stare at each other, but it's really only a few seconds. 

Long enough for Jungkook's heart to be in his throat and your tummy to start tickling. 

Then you whisper, "I w-was just going to a-ask you to turn out the l-light."

A choked breath escapes Jungkook as he snaps his gaze away from yours. 

"Oh, yeah sure." 

Without looking at you, he reaches over to the table between your beds and flips the light off. 

It's silent for a little bit, then Jungkook hears you whisper in the darkness, "I'm sorry a-about earlier."

"You already apologized, and I told you there was no need to."

You sigh and shift onto your back, "When is th-the school reunion?"

Jungkook internally groans, "It's in a few days."

"W-Why did we have t-to leave so quickly?"

Jungkook moves to his right side, so he's facing you in the darkness, but he can't make you out. 

"I wanted to be sure we got a place to stay before it all filled up."

"Ah, okay."

Fuck, he hates lying to you so easily. 

The fact that you have full trust in him is making him sick to his stomach. 

But at least he got you here. 

He's gotten you out of Seoul. 

That buys him a bit more time to figure out who the hell placed the hit on you. 

Then he'll take matters into his own hands. 

After a few minutes, Jungkook is sure you've fallen asleep again, so it takes him by surprise when you speak up. 

"What is y-your favorite flower?"

"Uhm, I'm not sure...I don't know that many flowers," Jungkook replies, his eyes still closed. 

You giggle, "My f-favorite is the a-almond flower."

Jungkook nods thoughtfully, then he realizes that you can't see him so he clears his throat, "Ah, what does that one look like?"

"It's little and w-white with a h-hint of pink in the middle. V-Very cute."

Jungkook smiles, "Sounds very fitting for you."

Your cheeks heat up as you cuddle more into the covers, "Do y-you want to know th-the meaning of it?" You whisper. 

He finally opens his eyes, but all he can see is darkness, "Sure."

He suddenly remembers your letter to him after you visited the field of dandelions. 

What did you say the dandelion represented again? Oh yeah, hope and happiness...or something like that...

"It m-means h-hope and renewal."

Jungkook hears you shifting a little to get comfortable. 

"That's nice," He says gently, "I guess the little simple ones tend to represent hope, huh?"

You positively beam, realizing that he must have remembered your letter to him about the dandelion. 

"I g-guess so."

Jungkook turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

Before he can back out, he asks, "What does the lotus flower represent?"

"Is th-that your f-favorite?"

Jungkook blinks a few times before answering you, "It was my mother's."

You sit up and look over at him curiously, wondering if something had happened to her with the way his voice sounded and the fact that he used past tense. 

"Oh...w-well I happen t-to know that one," You lay back down, "It m-means enlightenment and r-rebirth."

Huh. 

How ironic.

"Ah," Is all he says. 

You lay there in silence for a little bit, then you remember something that you had wanted to tell him. 

"Oh y-yeah, I had the w-weirdest dream the other day."

"Mm? What was it?" 

"I w-was laying in a f-field of flowers. Purple f-flowers-"

Jungkook's brain suddenly snaps to attention at your words, "What did they look like?" He asks abruptly, interrupting you. 

"Uh, they w-were some of m-my favorite flowers, they're c-called Agapanthus."

"Agapi- what?" Jungkook asks, face scrunched in confusion. 

You laugh and blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. 

Jungkook looks over to see a blue light illuminating your face as you look at your phone and his breath gets caught in his throat. 

Fuck.

Don't be stupid, Jungkook. 

He looks away quickly.

"H-Here," You stand up and waddle over to his bed, plopping yourself down on the side of it and jostling him a bit. Jungkook swallows thickly at the close proximity all of the sudden. 

You hold your phone close to his face, watching as he squints at the picture of the flower you were talking about. 

"A-Agapanthus," You state again, smiling. 

But Jungkook barely hears you, he's frozen, staring at the picture in your hand.

That's the flower that was in his dream the other day. 

The field was full of them. 

"Anyw-way, I w-was lying there. It w-was so vivid. Th-Then I realized I was h-holding someone's hand-"

Jungkook can't tear his eyes away from your phone, his heartbeat increasing the more of your story you tell. 

"I c-could tell it w-was a guy's hand, b-but I couldn't turn my head to see who it was."

His eyes finally drift from your phone up to your face where you're sporting a faint pout. 

He doesn't know what possesses him to ask, all he registers are the shaky words suddenly coming from his mouth, "What's the meaning of this flower?"

Your gaze shifts to his and you smile softly, "L-Love."

__________________________________

a/n: jk is a damned fool, who’s with me.

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies @moon-asia @bangtannie7 @yoonchrisgull @njkbangtan @higashikatasgf @jksbbyfacebunny @sweetonkookieandtae @voidswan-recs @sadxaries @bts-junseagull @jinfused @taehyungiev13 @gaeguuliii @kimnamjoonluvbot @jungkooook @mutterseelenalleinn @surilirani @patpus @yukiehyukie @crypticsabbat @ohyeahjk @steffiiirose @the-falling-star @telepathytae @erenkook ​ 

[shah-writes]

pretty boy

based off this very excellent post

“Give me your money, pretty boy!” 

Draco startles; then, blushes. “Oh, thank you,” he replies.

His assailant is tall, with sandy-blonde hair and—maybe, more importantly—a rather large gun pointed directly at Draco’s nose. “What?” He asks stupidly. 

“It’s really all about the skin care regimen,” Draco continues, while absently observing the man. “My best friend runs a beauty and wellness shop on Diagon.” In Paris, Draco had befriended a number of petty criminals; they were useful to his investigations, and better, they were interesting. 

This man is different. He’s wearing shoddy clothes and his face is grimy, but he’s wearing expensive shoes. Probably a boring businessman trying to find a thrill. Draco rolls his eyes and considers calling Potter. 

Except, Potter probably doesn’t want to hear from him. Fuck. He swallows down his regret and stares back at the businessman. He’s looking at Draco incredulously. He waves his gun again, for emphasis. 

Draco throws up a silent, wandless defensive spell and keeps talking. “Muggle sunscreen, that’s my advice. It even smells good. Muggles! Their ingenuity never fails to blow me away.”

The man is probably a Muggle himself, considering his utter confusion and the fact that he’s holding a gun. Draco winces and hopes he hasn’t broken some archaic British secrecy amendment. 

“Did you hear me? I said, give me your money!” He steps ever closer to Draco, standing on the perimeter of Draco’s defensive barrier. His aura is familiar— not in the illicit potions dealer or corrupt executive or cheating husband way that Draco’s become accustomed to in his line of work— something else, something older. 

He doesn’t put it together until the man takes another step forward and is thrown back with the retaliation of Draco’s spell. He hits the dumpster and crumples to the ground. 

“Potter?” 

His disguise dissolves away and he stares up at Draco in disbelief. “Well, it’s good to know that your primary self-defense strategy isn’t to bore your attacker to death by talking about your skin care regimen.”

“Care to explain what the hell you’re doing lurking around dark alleys, waving around a gun, and trying to mug innocent strangers?”

Potter clambers to his feet. “Wanted to see how well you could defend yourself, I guess.” He smirks back at Draco. “Answer is pretty well.”

Draco huffs. “I was a very well-respected investigator in Paris, Potter. I’ve caught just as many criminals as you have and as such, I’ve become very good at defending myself.” 

Potter hums and allows a truly awful awkward silence to fall between them. 

Draco grits his teeth. “Listen, Potter. I’m sorry.”

Potter’s expression doesn’t change. “For what?”

For everything. He’s sorry he came back to London. He’s sorry he offered the Aurors his services as a Consulting Detective. He’s sorry he ever agreed to partner with one Senior Auror Potter, who had somehow found the time—in between posing for Witch Weekly photoshoots to raise money for children or the homeless or whomever—to grow a brain and become a good investigator in his own right. Not as good as Draco, but still.

He’s sorry about the way he gets when he’s on a case. Like the way he cracked his and Potter’s first case at 3am and instead of waiting until the morning—“Waiting for me, like a good fucking partner,” Potter had hissed—he left a hasty voicemail on Potter’s phone and pursued the lead on his own. 

Draco waves his hands. “You know, getting you in trouble.”

Potter snorts. “Malfoy, I flagrantly violate Auror procedures at least once a week. That wasn’t even the first time Robards yelled at me today. You should be sorry for ditching me and getting yourself hurt.”

Draco opens his mouth to interject but Potter continues. “You should be sorry that you put me in a position where I was no longer responsible for my civilian consultant. You were disrespectful and reckless, and if we’re going to be partners—”

“Well, that won’t be a problem.”

“Excuse me?”

“In case you didn’t notice, Potter, I got fired today. Or did Robards’ screaming impair your hearing?”

“Yeah, well, I talked him out of it. Besides, we made eleven arrests today, in your first week as a consultant. Even Robards can do that kind of math.” 

Draco tries very hard not to smile too hard. It would be gauche. “So, we’re partners? Officially?”

“As long as you don’t ditch me to go get shot again.”

“It was an ambush. I couldn’t have predicted that nor could I have defended myself properly.”

“Did you try talking to them about sunscreen?”

Draco laughs, suddenly, miraculously, happy. “So, what does this mean? Do I get to use Auror-restricted spells?”

Potter starts walking. “No,” he replies. 

Draco jogs to catch up. “How about a badge?”

“Nope.” 

“Access to the Department of Mysteries?”

“Definitely not.”

“So,” Draco changes tactics, “you think I’m pretty?”

Potter stops. “Excuse me?”

“You called me pretty boy. Give me your money, pretty boy,” Draco imitates. 

“I said, rich boy,” Harry argues. “Give me your money, rich boy.”

Draco hums. He stands in Potter’s way and allows another awkward silence to settle over them. 

Potter sighs and stares up at the stars. “You can have a civilian badge and you may consult with Unspeakable Granger with her consent.” 

Draco smiles broadly. “Deal.”

Potter rolls his eyes. “Come on pretty boy, I’ll walk you home.”

Please imagine this as the ending to the first episode of a seven-season TV show in which Draco Malfoy comes back from his adventures in Paris as a private investigator and starts consulting with the Auror Department, much to the chagrin of his assigned partner— tired, Senior Auror Harry Potter. Spoiler alert: they fall in love.

[yeojaa]

come over, pt. i

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  this is pwp.  smut in the forms of:  kissing, oral (m/f), fingering, deepthroating, hickeys, protected sex.  use of the pet name shy girl.  wc. 6.2k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif and @snackhobi aka the loves of my tiny life.  author note.  this is an adaption of an rp with my beloved @velvetwicebang​.  while the writing is all my own, i owe so much to loma for inspiring me and being such a wonderful partner. 💛 if you enjoy this, feedback goes a long way.  tysm for reading!  (and yes, there will be a second part.)

You’ve been friends for thirteen months, classmates for another three before that.  You’ve worked on countless projects together, watched him fall off a roof, and have had to bail him out of campus security’s grubby little hands. Your friendship is easy, based on mutual suffering in Professor Kim’s class and long study dates spent in the library.  He smuggled you chocolates in his pockets and you brought iced coffee to the 8 a.m. lecture you shared.

You’re not sure why you’re riddled with uncertainty now then, every nerve ending shot, lit up bright like the still-up mini Christmas tree sitting in the corner of your dorm room.  (You know you should take it down but it’s so cute, slouched ever with a tiny gold star-shaped bell hanging from the end.).  

Spending time with Jungkook was normal - a part of your weekly routine - but then again, you hadn’t somehow developed a weird little crush on him until recently.  

(If you think hard, you could probably pinpoint it to a night a few weeks ago when he looked particularly good, fluffy powder puff of hair stripped of shadow and gleaming gold beneath the warm lecture lights.  You’d never had a thing for blonds but he made it look good - surprising you when he’d dropped into his seat beside you and winked in response to your surprise.) 

(It’s something you can't tear your thoughts from now, that infuriatingly charming smile burnt into your retinas.  It sits at the forefront of your mind, stealing your attention from the movie that's playing on the television hung across from your bed.  One of those blockbuster flicks, because who didn’t love gratuitous action and lens flares?)

A hand reaches for the chip bowl propped between you - homemade chex mix, because you’ve been obsessed with the recipe since discovering it a few weeks ago - and you flinch away when it brushes the hand that's already in there.

"Sorry!"  You squeak before coughing, a quick-witted (but not altogether believable) attempt at hiding the sudden heat that flares across your cheeks.  The same hand disappears between your knees, fingers curling into the soft throw laid over your legs.  You tell yourself to relax at least three times before speaking, peeking at your companion from beneath a fringe of sleep-tousled strands.  “Stop stealing all my chips.” 

The boy beside you only grins, tosses that lazy smile in your direction before turning his attention back to the explosion on the screen, entire expression lit up by the fireworks that explode in flashes of colour.

You think you’ve gotten away with it - that he hasn’t noticed - and then he’s speaking again, pointedly staring forward, seemingly unbothered.  (You know better though.  Jungkook’s infuriating like that, picking up on all the little things despite the fact that he’s a dumb boy, too good at reading between the lines when he barely studies.)

“You’re blushing.”

The callout is, well, uncalled for. 

You choose to ignore him at first, opting to shove two chocolates past your lips.  They’re unbearably sweet, minty and cold - your favourite - and the richness spills across your tongue, eliciting a soft hum as your teeth buzz from the sugar.  (Note to self:  thank Jungkook for the chocolate later.)

“You’re blushing,”  you retort once you’ve swallowed, cheeks puffed out and a dent gathering between your brows.  “I’m just—“  Hand waves wildly - nearly hits him in the face with how wobbly it is - and you pretend-glare at him, faux affront laid in spades.  “—hot.”

It comes snappier than you mean it to, spoken in something close to a pout.  You aren’t actually.  The campus is notorious for having garbage heating, floorboards more akin to packed snow in the dead of winter.  It’s just annoying.  You refuse to be another one of those girls.

(Not that there’s anything wrong with said girls.  It’s more an issue with Jungkook, stupidly handsome and charming and far too popular for his own good.  People already told you all about Jungkook’s escapades - even though you often heard them from him firsthand and in gruelling detail.  One of the downsides to being friends with someone who, for all intents and purposes, carried the title of campus heartthrob.) 

“Pay attention to the movie.”  The same hand reaches for the mix again, careful to avoid brushing his this time.  You think you’ve succeeded, snatching up a piece of pretzel, morsel halfway to your mouth when it drops to your lap.

The same lap that suddenly has a hand on it, palm warm over your knee.  

If you’d thought your nerve endings were shot, now you knew they were.  Every inch of skin was on fire - heat shooting up your spine and over your neck the moment his hand comes in contact with bare skin.  Damn your need for comfort, damn your choice to wear shorts, damn his freaking hot tattooed hands—

You almost yell at him.  The sound’s on the tip of your tongue when you bite down, stare trained wholly on the movie and the blood that splatters across the screen..

Really, you shouldn't be surprised.  You’ve known Jungkook for nearly two years - okay, not quite.  You’ve heard all the rumours about him, the whispered words that sound something like playboy and flirt and be careful.  You know and yet you’ve found yourself in this situation, desperately trying to figure out what the hell is going through his mind as you stare straight ahead, refusing to move a muscle.  

His profile is picture perfect from your periphery;  he's focused too, acting like he's done nothing wrong.  Sly as a fox, as always.

“Still blushing,”  he repeats conversationally, as if he’s commenting on the colour of the sky or how cold it is in your room.  Not as if he’s got a hand where it shouldn’t be, ink spilling over his skin in pretty patterns, burning the shape of it where he touches.

"I didn't blush.”  It’s a retort made for only argument’s sake and even then, without weight.  Feather soft and feeble in an attempt to keep your voice level.  It's hard when you’re burning up, a livewire settled where you feel him.  "I'm not blushing."

It's a lie - you can feel the flush, embarrassment flooding from your cheeks all the way down over your chest.  It’s an inferno beneath your skin, lava coursing through your veins.  

It spreads further and further, blooms somewhere new when his hand drifts lower, tracking across the soft inner of your thigh.  Doesn’t cease even when his hand does, palm firm over your leg, the ghost of a touch passing so close to your core you can’t help but jolt.  It’s as if he’s rearranged your pieces, mixed them all up.  A brush of his finger over your clothed entrance feels like it hits you right in the chest, snaps your heart to attention.  It roars to life, thundering madly, pulse erratic when he repeats the gesture, with that much more pressure.

You’re dripping, you realise to your horror, cotton of your thong sticking to your skin, grey of your shorts made darker by the arousal that spills over the one not-so-innocent digit. 

A part of you wants to run from the room.  Nearly do, heart hammering in your chest when Jungkook's face is suddenly too close, the warmth of his breath stifling against your neck.  It feels good, anticipation and desire fizzing in your stomach like fountain pop.  (The movie theatre kind, that’s somehow flat and too bubbly all at once.)

"Kook."  You mean to say it reproachfully, with a hand pushing his wrist away.  Instead it comes out like a whisper, a soft sigh of his name that sounds almost needy, laced with worry and anticipation that makes you want to tear your own hair out.  Fingers remain locked around bone, other hand digging into the blanket and the linen beneath it, searching desperately for some form of composure beneath the material.  

For the first time, you hazard a glance - know it’ll be bad for your own well-being - dropping your stare to where his hand rests.  (You have to admit - you like the sight of those tattoos, a stark contrast to the unblemished softness.)

Like it almost as much as his kisses, the first of which lands exactly where you want it most.  Delicate, polite, right on the junction of your jaw.  A sigh escapes before you can help it.  "Shy girl,”  he coos, teasing in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. 

“I’m not shy,”  you huff - try to, anyway, around the kaleidoscope of butterflies that are threatening to choke you.  "We're watching a movie."  You’re trying to redirect his attention, even as you’re desperate for it, even as you think you’d give your whole heart for it. 

You’re this close to combusting, eyes widening the moment he extracts his hand and tucks it back into the bowl of chips.  A part of you wants to yell at him - for starting this in the first place but mainly for leaving you high and dry, turned on and soaking through your underwear. 

(It’s not fair, but then again, you’d never expected them to be.  You’ve seen the rules Jungkook plays by - namely those of his own creation.  Term paper due the next morning?  He’d somehow pull it out of his ass that night.  Break something at a house party?  He’d be let off with a smile and a wave, those doe eyes of his utterly lethal when paired with his pout.)

“Watch the movie then.”  He sounds almost bored, utterly unbothered as he seamlessly slips back into the proper role of friend, classmate, study partner.

"Let's."  Without tossing another glance in his direction, you stare straight ahead, own hand delving for snacks.  So what if you very purposely brush your fingers against the pieces he's just touched, popping the pieces into your mouth before slotting your thumb against your tongue, cheeks hollowing around to suck the last bits of salt and butter off.

Despite your nerves - you’re hoping he's watching - you readjust, bringing knees up, crossing legs until one is resting atop his own thick thigh.  The full of your bottom lip disappears between your teeth, worried to within an inch of its life as you shift beside him, seemingly manoeuvring your shorts into their rightful position.

(You’re not.  They’re hitched higher than they were, barely worthy of the title of shorts, more akin to a belt.  So revealing it’s almost uncomfortable, wet of your arousal sticking them to your skin.)

(Two could play this game.)

(Maybe him better than you, but still.)

You know what you’re doing and yet you’re somehow surprised when he’s suddenly disappeared from your side and situated himself in front of you, eating up too much of the space on your small double bed.  “What’re you—“  The question disappears in the same moment he does, unable to track his movements when Jungkook slips forward, pressing his mouth over yours.

You’ve kissed a lot of people.  (Okay, not a lot, but enough.)  You were a senior in college, where kissing was like talking and fucking happened more often than dating.

You’ve never kissed Jungkook before.  

Why hadn’t you?

His lips are terribly soft, pink and pouted, slanting across yours as if he’s trying to devour you.  There’s no semblance of delicacy, nothing gentle and sweet like those brushes against your neck.  They’re forceful, demanding payment in full when his tongue glides over the seam, seeking entrance despite the fact that you think he might’ve slipped in anyway.

There’s not a single wall he couldn’t break down, not a lock he couldn’t pick.  Not with how he moves, purposeful and reassured, tongue sliding over yours, sucking it into his mouth as if it’s something he does every day.  (Which it very well could be - just not with you.)

“Shy girl,”  he repeats with a mouth filled with affection, praise that pours over you honey sweet and sticky.  “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The thing is, you’re not pretending.  You’re half-afraid this entire moment is going to explode into a thousand pieces, a dream shattered by reality.  You hope it doesn’t.  Couldn’t bear it when he feels so nice, hand spanning your waist, tucked beneath the safety of your shirt and the fleece blanket between you.  

“I’m not.”  

“Oh?”  There’s something in his eyes, something that coils heat in the pit of your stomach.  You swear you can see the devil sitting on his shoulder, gleeful little smile rearranging his features.  “Do I make you nervous, ____?”

Did he?  Of course he did.  Had, even before you’d known him.

(You’d grown comfortable, though.  Found a way to separate the popular heartthrob from your friend.)

But you’ve lost your marbles, gone certifiably insane when you make a noise that sounds nothing like you.  Because you’re once again far too interested in the way Jungkook’s touching you, manhandling you as if you’re some sort of puppet.  It really shouldn’t turn you on so much, slick coating your bare thighs when he guides you onto your back, pushes you back against your too many pillows.

He’s your friend and he’s told you all about the way he fucks girls until they can’t walk.  

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want the same treatment, though. 

The moment Jungkook’s mouth finds your skin - sensitive and soft and so close to your soaked core - you keen, hands immediately flying into his silky head of hair.  It threads between your fingers like fine silk, filaments of gold overlaid in colour by the movie that still plays.  

“Oh my god,”  you gasp, entire body arching off the back of the bed in an effort to bring some form of  relief.  You can’t help the heat that burns your cheeks or how you sound, begging and pleading as you tug gently at his blond roots.  “Don’t tease me.”

You’re not asking very nicely but you figure Jungkook will give in.  It’s his fault, after all.  

His fault - which you don’t mind when he hooks fabric aside and drags his tongue across your slit, the flat of his tongue arching your back from the bed.  Can’t mind when he does it again, rounded nose bumping against your clit.  You’re trying to stay just a little bit decent, moans soft and caught between your teeth.  You’re practically biting a hole through your lip in an effort to stay quiet, hands curled into fists.  Gold spills between them and you imagine it hurts but he doesn’t stop, only works harder to drive you crazy.

Of course he’s good at this.  Too good, if you’re being honest.

You’re dripping, legs trembling in his firm, unyielding grip.  There's molten heat building in your stomach, creeping up your spine, and with each pass of his tongue over your sensitive core, it only expands.  You want more - need it - and almost beg when he catches your clit between his teeth.  A breathy baby spills out on accident when your eyes meet, gaze half-lidded.

It’s bad for your health, how good he looks right now, chin slick, lips rubied and pretty like jewels.  “Shy girl sounds so pretty.”

There's something about his praise that completely ruins you, the words dragging a delighted, sexpot moan off your tongue.  You want him to tell you how pretty you are now and later, over and over.  

You want to be his pretty girl. 

"I want you.  I need more,"  you whine, hips rutting desperately, slick messy across your thighs and shining across Jungkook's mouth.  He smiles then - brighter than the sun, utterly radiant, so devastatingly handsome you swear your brain short circuits - and then he’s doing exactly as you’ve asked. 

He eats you out like it’s an art form, flicking his tongue over your clit with practiced precision, sucking the pearl between his lips.  When he grazes his teeth over it - just the lightest pressure - you jolt, the feeling of a finger sliding into you stealing the breath from your lungs.

He’s always had nice hands, big broad palms and long fingers.  They reach places you could never hope to, stretching you deliciously when he sinks another in alongside the first, exploring you with ease.  The sting is slight, the fullness overriding any pain, further dulled by the suction of his mouth on your clit.  

He even hums when he finds the spot he’s been looking for, hooking his fingers against it and pressing.  (You swear you see stars;  you know you feel him smile, lips spread like butter over your skin when you sob.)

You can’t help yourself, writhing and moaning, trying to ride his face with a desperation that has your chest heaving.  It feels so good to have him between your legs.  You almost miss the appearance of his other hand - in view for but a moment before it disappears past the waistband of his sweats.  Dark as they are, pitch black like most of his clothing, it’s impossible to miss the way he touches himself.  It has you even needier, pussy clenching at the thought of him fisting his own hard cock.

“Do you want a hand?”  You ask as if you’re doing him a favour and not salivating at the prospect, eyes wide, blinking down at him from behind thick lashes.  

“Fuck.”  He’s sin incarnate, undeniable when he sheds his sweats, kicks them off with just one hand, other still slotted snug against your pussy.  He never ceases his movements, fucking you on his fingers even as he sits upright, leaned back on his calves.  “You want a taste?  Shy girl wants a big fat cock in her mouth?”  

There's something about hearing him so turned on, the expletive shooting a dizzying bolt of desire straight between yours legs.  You’ve seen Jungkook worked up - he was awfully competitive, after all, dominating most intramural sports, breaking PR records in the gym - but it's something else completely when he's making you drip cum all over his hand.

"Wow.”

Jungkook's cock is pretty, flushed and glossy from the pre-cum he spreads with his thumb, massaging over the tip like it owes him something.  

You want to taste it.

A contented hum rolls off your tongue at his question, though you don’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.  His ego's big enough without it and you’re much more interested in stroking something else.  Still, you lean into his palm, nuzzling your cheek against the warmth of it when he threads his hand through your hair, gathering it in his fist.

Then without looking away, your mouth falls open, tongue peeking past your lips to lick a fat stripe up the length of his cock, from base to tip.  It's hot and heavy on your tongue, the salty taste of his pre-cum better than candy.  You hum again, swirling your tongue around the head, and keep your gaze locked with Jungkook's, almost smirking when you drag your tongue over his fingers, gently grazing the edge of your teeth against the pad of his thumb. 

“Please.”  You’re usually far more reserved, not the kind to ask for more until you’re three months into dating and certain of where you stand.  You simply can’t help yourself now, the feeling of your own wetness painting your skin, making you clench around nothing.  "I need it."

The groan that comes sounds more like Christmas, a gift given by Santa Claus himself.  It filters into your ears and has you grinning up at him, not even bothering to hide the pride that flutters your lashes and has you pursing your lips around the head of his cock.  

When he speaks again, it’s dangerously quiet, low in his throat, laced with whatever same emotion that seems to shackle your limbs.  “Open up, ____,”  he instructs, though he offers little time to adjust, guiding his cock forward, stuffing your mouth full.  “Show me how bad.”

You don’t mind.  If you were to speak, it’d practically be a prayer, tongue tracing the veins that run the length.  A chorus of yes please more when he takes just as much as he gives.  You love the power that comes with Jungkook speaking so filthily, drunk on it when he continues, spewing filth in time with each rock of his hips.

Lips seal around the swollen head each time he withdraws, cheeks hollowing around the tip.  Tongue passes over his fingers again before your hand rises, fingers curling around his wrist to pull his own away.  (You probably shouldn't - it's too romantic - but thread your fingers through his in the same instant you sink down upon his cock, taking him halfway before pulling off with a pop!)

"Do you think you'll last long enough to fuck me?"  You’re pushing his buttons on purpose, just like he had yours during the movie. 

Something close to a snarl comes, a growl that reverberates out of that big cavernous chest of his, and he grips your hair tighter, tries to hold you still as he grins down at you.  The expression is so at odds with the warmth in his eyes, the boyish tilt of his head.

You repeat the motion again and again, taking him a little bit deeper until the head brushes the back of your throat, reflexively swallowing around the intrusion.  He's still so long and thick you haven’t even taken him all, drooling around his length, breathing through your nose and pushing past the desire to gag.  Then you relax your jaw just a little more, humming when your nose brushes the neatly groomed patch of hair at his base.

Your free hand slinks across his thigh, nails digging into the meat, delighted by the flex of muscle and sinew beneath your hand.  He's so hard, both on your tongue and beneath your touch.  It prompts you to shift forward just a bit more - you can feel the slick on your thighs, dripping down onto the sheets with each movement - and trace across his thigh to gently palm his balls.

If you could speak, you’d probably ask for more.  For Jungkook to use and abuse your throat as much as he wants.  As it stands, you can only moan around him, spit and his pre-cum smeared over your lips.

“Look at you.”  He’s talking to himself, lost in his own world as he fucks into your mouth, soothes the pad of his thumb over your cheek.  You adore the way he sounds now, dazed and a little messed up.  “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, ____.”

You can’t do much more than look up at him, batting your lashes when he compliments you, dragging your tongue everywhere you can reach as the head of his cock batters the back of your throat.  It's not an easy feat, drool all the way down your chin, trailing down your neck and staining the silk of your camisole.

At some point, you’ll need to pull off - get a proper breath of air - but not now.  Instead, you swallow around him, savouring the feeling of him filling your mouth, and squeeze gently at his balls.  When you wink up at him, it's half-hearted and with moisture in your eyes, lining lashes in the form of little gemstones.

You do it again and again, moaning lewdly around his cock before it gets too much, pulling off of him with a gasping breath and tears down your cheeks.  “Is it my turn yet?”  You’re only half-joking, made needier by the soreness in your throat, the same you want to feel so desperately between your legs.  Pressing a sweet, chaste peck to his head, tongue dipping into his slit to gather the pre-cum that leaks out, you offer the sweetest smile you can, saccharine sweet and soft.  

“Your turn?”  The way Jungkook snorts is derisive, playful.  It pulls straight off his tongue - which finds yours, swapping spit as he guides you back to the bed.  Teeth collide, lips grown swollen by the intensity of your kiss, and you startle when he nips hard at the bottom petal.  “I thought you were shy.”

“I am,”  you retort, returning the gesture, biting into the curve of his jaw with surprising repose.  Colour blooms beneath the edge of enamel, a smattering of colour that makes you smile, eager to leave more.

Which you would do, if Jungkook weren’t stripping before you, peeling his shirt from his front, tugging it over his head in that weirdly hot way that somehow all boys did.  It reveals skin in a single fluid pull, clothing discarded to the side before he levels you with a smile of his own, one that stirs to life the dimple in his cheek, eyes squinting with the intensity of his delight.  He looks deceptively sweet this way, nothing like the demon who’d just stuffed his cock down your throat.

You’re not sure which version of him you like best.

Seeing him now, dressed in nothing but that absurd, devilishly handsome grin of his, you’re not prepared.  You’re unsure where to look, gaze bouncing between the tattoos that crawl up his arms and span over his left pec, down the neatly defined ridges of his abs, and all the way back to his swollen, shiny cock.

“You’re drooling.”  Of course it’s something he’d say - because he always knows what to say, plucking perfect words from thin air.  The casual banter calms the rattle in your chest and refocuses it on his face that’s too close, looming over yours as his hands make quick work of your clothes, shedding the fabric from your form with deft, measured movements.

You’re ready to say something teasing - anything to distract from the fact that you’re still ogling him - when he catches you in another kiss, softer this time, infinitely sweeter.  Suddenly, you’re shy - which really makes no sense, given what’s transpired.

"Don't make fun of me,"  you mumble, as bashful as you were during the movie, embarrassment burning across your cheeks.  Arms rise to cover what little of your chest you can, folding around his broad palms that encompass them whole, tweaking at the straining buds.

“I’m not,”  Jungkook reassures against your lips, face dropping into the crook of your neck.  He nuzzles against you, sucking affection into the column of your throat, shamelessly laying a wreath of lust into the delicate skin.  You wonder whether he can hear the stutter of your pulse, the reaction his next words elicit.  “You’re pretty when you do it.”

You can’t quite pull your eyes away from his face, shrouded in lemon tart, so good-looking it’s unfair; his broad back and the muscle that threads it, undulating with each movement;  or the way his thighs flex between your spread knees.  You’re dragged through heaven and hell by the brush of his lips, each glide overstimulating your senses to the point of no return.  You’re still burning up, all the foreplay leaving your legs like jelly, cunt dripping with need.  "I bet you say that to all the girls."

Probably not the best thing to say with the position you’re in but the reality of the situation is hitting you and you’re feeling a little vulnerable.  Want an answer that’ll soften the sharp edges of his teeth, the intoxicating glint in his stare.

“No, just you.”  Whether it’s true or not, you can’t say for certain.  You hope it is - wish upon a star for it, laying all your hopes and dreams into the constellations in his eyes.  They’re lovely, winking down at you from the darkest depths, guiding you home.  

You don’t mean to scoff - really, you don’t.  It comes of its own accord, spilling forth like a glass too full.

“You don’t believe me?”  He sounds almost offended, the picture of innocence when he reaches down, hand scrambling about for pooled black fabric.  Comes back up with a packet between his index and middle finger, held aloft like a prize.  

How can you when he’s ready to devour you whole, primed to feast as he rolls the condom over his length, stroking himself once, twice, gaze never wavering from where it rests between your legs.

“Always prepared.”  It’s scathing but somehow tender, too mesmerised by the way he fucks into his loose fist.  You’d say more - maybe make a flippant comment about his reputation - but can’t find the words when he’s teasing you, swollen head tapping teasingly over your core.  It feels like too much, leaves you breathless when he hikes your legs up and nearly folds you in half. 

When he presses into you, the sound you make is sinful, a moan you can’t help.  Jungkook’s so fucking big you’re sure you’re about to split in half, pussy clenching tight around the sudden intrusion.  “Oh my god,”  you whine, hands coiling into his hair, trying desperately to relax, the sting of the stretch battling the pressure that builds as he sinks further in.  “You’re so big.  I c-can’t—”  You’re starting to babble nonsense and he hasn’t even begun moving yet, lips hot over the sweat-slick column of his throat when he bows, burning his presence into the grace of your neck.  A hickey of your own creation blooms right where your mouth is, right over his shoulder.  The salt of his skin distracts you, makes it easier to accommodate the fullness.  “You feel so good, Kook.”  You rock experimentally beneath him, clenching tight as if to draw him deeper.  “Please, move,”  you beg, aiming to form another bruise beneath his skin.

The first thrust chases all the breath from your lungs, a gasp ricocheting off your tongue and into the minimal space between you.  He's absurdly big, stretching you out so well that every stroke feels like heaven.  When he pushes back in, snaps his hips in that easy, effortless motion of his, you’re making the most obscene noises, words lost to his hair as he lavishes your tits with attention.

B-big! is all you manage to squeak out.  It sounds like that, anyway.  With how he's filling you, it's hard to speak coherently;  you can practically feel him in your throat.  (Or maybe that's just from choking on him earlier.  You’re not really sure.)

Hands find their way around his neck, over his shoulders, periwinkle-painted nails leaving light etchings in their wake.  They bloom colour over his back - not too hard, careful still, motor skills barely functioning - before you tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him recklessly close as the pressure builds and builds, flooding your abdomen in heat. 

There’s slick all across your thighs.  You can hear the wet sounds each time Jungkook slips almost all the way out and then rocks back in.  It's terribly messy and so hot but you’re greedy, drunk off the feeling of having this Adonis break you in half.  "Harder, p-please."  Eyes wide, you tug gently at the soft strands at the nape of his neck, meeting his with a flutter of your lashes.  "Please?"

He acquiesces without hesitation, fucks you harder, deeper, like an animal in a rut.  Grinds against you with each thrust, pushing you to your limits.  Even has the audacity to push further, until the strain in your hips conflicts with the pleasure skipping up your spine, melting you into a boneless mass.

You’ve never felt like this, stretched out and used.  You’re used to gentle lovers, sweet - if not boring - lovemaking.  The way Jungkook's pounding into you is unheard of and you’re loving it, his name whimpered on a feedback loop.  A steady Kook, Kook, Kook that twinkles in your ears, inarticulate and pleading as you rock shamelessly against him.

“You like that, ____?”  It’s a question for his own ego, something he knows but asks anyway.  (It’d be impossible not to know the answer when your cunt’s sucking him in, coating his cock in a pretty sheen.)

You’re nodding dumbly, breathless, eager to meet him each time he snaps forward.  (It’s not easy like this, practically prone beneath him, twisted into a pretzel.)  "Like it so m-much.  Feels so good.”  You can’t stop smoothing open mouthed kisses over his fluffy hair, basking in the sunshine that radiates off him. 

There's an ache starting between your legs, pussy swollen around his thick length.  You’re grateful for your natural flexibility, the hot yoga sessions you’d entertained on-and-off for years.  You’re sure you’d feel it in your legs too, knees pushed all the way up by your ears, if not for that.  

But still, you’re defenceless, made to experience each and every thing he has to offer:  every vein and ridge, the head of his cock reaching so deep it's almost too much.  With each stroke, Jungkook’s brushing against the sensitive spot that has pleasure skyrocketing, blossoming like a rose garden in spring.  "R-right there,"  you manage, rolling your hips purposefully, nearly crying each time he brushes against your g-spot.

“Right there?”  He parrots it back, infuriating and adorable, the teasing tenor dripping over you like raindrops.  They settle beneath your skin, sinking into your bones as he rears back just enough, enough to steal a kiss that’s far more tongue than it needs to be.  

It’s almost as if he’s trying to drown you, sink you beneath high tide.  

Spit descends down your chin, trails over your neck and it’s a little gross but you don’t care.  The attention he’s giving is shameless, passed over your cheeks, your throat, your breasts.  He gives and gives, both with his lips and the praise that comes unfettered.  “Perfect,”  he hums, sucking your nipple into his mouth, worrying the bud until it’s straining and puffy, too sensitive when he kisses you again and your own thigh brushes against it.  You whimper at the feeling, pulling softly at his hair, unsure whether you want less or need more.  “So sensitive.  Such a shy girl.  Such a pretty girl.”

Every word of praise has you beaming, nearly purring with delight despite the pain that comes when he puts you through the same once more, laving over the other bud with abandon.  He's sweat-slick, beads of it running down his neck, over the mosaic of bruises you’ve left behind.  It's almost embarrassing how dark his throat is coloured, a dozen reminders left all over his skin.

(You wonder how long they’ll last, how many days will pass as the colour shifts, changing like autumn leaves.  Whether they’ll still be there at your next lecture, if he’ll wear them with pride or cover up beneath one of his big baggy sweaters.)

(You hope it’s the latter.)

(Maybe he’ll let you give him more.)

(Maybe he—)

There’s a change of pace and you’re crying out, hiccupping with each thrust, the head of his cock finding your g-spot with unbearable, unrelenting precision.  Clawing at his arms, long nails digging into the firm muscle of his biceps, something between a sob and a plea rolls off your tongue, over and over.  "So big.  It's too m-much.”  And yet you don’t want him to stop, punch drunk from the way he reaches deep and pulls you tighter against him, hips risen off the bed. 

You’re begging again, eyes rolled so far back in your head you can hardly focus, the coil in your stomach pulled so tight you know it's about to snap.  When Jungkook laughs - a sweet giggle that proves his duality - you clench almost painfully, tears finally spilling over. 

One last brush against your most sensitive spot, one last thrust of that monster cock, and you’re peaking, coming so intensely you feel as if you’re soaring. Everything's suddenly so much more wet, release soaking into the linens beneath you, coating your thighs and his legs and dripping between you.

You’ve never come like this before, without some sort of direct stimulation on your clit.  It’s pleasurable in a different way, severing all your sensibilities, explosive in its magnitude.  It tingles beneath your skin, flooding all your senses. 

"Kook—please—come for me.”  You’re rocking up, forward - trying to, at least, folded as you are - singing his name, pleading for him to fuck his cum into you (momentarily ignorant to the fact that you’ve been responsible, a thin wall of latex separating you from your fucked out fantasy).  

Despite the sensitivity, you’re clenching around him, eager to bring him to his own high.  You want to feel him come apart above you, eroded into a mess like you are.

He’s just as pretty reaching his peak as he is at any other time, handsome face screwed up as if he’s reached nirvana, bliss slacking his features the longer he rides it out, bucking into you as he fills the condom and still doesn’t stop.  It’s almost unbearable, oversensitivity spilling into pleasure until he leisurely grinds to a halt, stops the inconsistent pressure against your bundle of nerves, the assault on your fluttering walls.

When he collapses against you, whole face squished between the valley of your breasts, you can’t help but laugh, the sound breathless and endeared.  “Are you okay?”  You don’t mind where he is, weight comforting, skin sticky on yours.  He’s unbelievably warm - a blanket fresh from the wash and yet so much better, lulling you into a sense of security.

“Better than okay,”  he murmurs against your chest, smothering open-mouthed kisses over skin, snickering when you jolt at the feel of his teeth over your nipple one last time.  “You’re welcome.”  It’s an indulgent, facetious expression of gratitude, one that you haven’t asked for.  You laugh all the same, ducking your head into the crown of spun gold atop his head.  

“You too.”

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @codeinebelle​

[burnedbyshoto]

so sweet

— Well, you always knew Tamaki’s quirk was extremely versatile. You just didn’t expect him to be able to go this far. Or, a story in which you and Tamaki find out if he can manifest a pussy.

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pairing: amajiki tamaki x fem!reader

warnings: dom!reader, sub!tamaki, food play (whipped cream, strawberries), tamaki with a pussy, strap-on, spreader bar, blindfold, handcuffs, cunnilingus (giving & receiving), praise kink (giving), choking (giving), pwp-ish

word count: 4,037

a/n: day two of kinktober. i’ve been waiting for m o n t h s for a tamaki fucker to write this prompt, but no one had, so I did it. I have no regrets in writing this other than not making tamaki call reader mommy/daddy some shit like tht, but oh well. enjoy! remember to comment of fics you like :D

main kink: food play

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You never believed that aphrodisiacs actually manipulated one’s ability to get in the mood.

It just never made sense to you.

A natural ability to get your blood pumping, the hormones in your veins screeching blasphemy, stopping at nothing until a warm, dull, yet unignorable ache settled in your bones? No, it just seemed too easy. Especially with all the different quirks and abilities in the world, it seemed unnatural for people to even seek natural ways to get horny.

But still, upon being questioned by none other than Nejire about if you had ever incorporated food into your sex life with your fiance, Amajiki Tamaki, it finally intrigued you.

It intrigued you so much that you couldn’t help but bring it up one night after he had come home after a long day of work. His bed ready body sinking into the mattress beside you where you lay, reading multiple different articles on the sciences and best aphrodisiac foods. 

“What do you think about aphrodisiac foods?” came the inevitable question that passed through your lips as the man with soft raven hair pillowed into your side, his slitted pupil staring at you with mild intrigue, embarrassment, and exhaustion.

“They’re mostly unhelpful in battle,” Tamaki mumbles into your skin, the blush on the tips of his ears noticeable. 

Despite the history between the two of you, knowing that your soon to be husband still blushed as easily as he once did (sometimes over nothing) made your chest warm. “If I had to eat one from that category, it would definitely have to be oysters and honey.” Tamaki settles on his words with a content sigh. You have to resist the guilty flush at the back of your neck at his innocence of your inquiry. “Oysters because of the shell, and honey makes for a great defensive item and trap,” he adds a bit afterward, his calloused fingers running up and down your stomach, a gentle way of coaxing you into laying down with him. “Why?”

“No reason,” you smile down at him, your head pressing down to press a kiss to his temple.

But, both of you knew you were lying.

However, truth or not, it would be the question that would lead both of you to this very moment. 

Tamaki strapped to the bed, arms cuffed with black leather handcuffs, legs separated with a silver spread bar, eyes shielded from the world with a silk blindfold, and an arrangement of covered bowls sitting patiently around him, untouched, unused.

“How are you feeling, bunny?” you coo, your lips pressing gently to the insides of Tamaki’s trembling thighs. 

There’s no response, just more trembling thighs, a slight shift in his back as he adjusts himself, but you continue to press warm, painted kisses against the inside of his thighs. Tamaki’s pitched breathing continues to push higher and higher, the small, unavoidable stutter in his voice hitched, almost hiccuping as he nods his head. 

“Use your words, bunny,” you mumble against his skin. Pretty painted lips pressing trailing kisses up his thigh, your nose pressed into the crevice between his crotch and his thigh, delighting in the pure, unrestrained moan that falls from his mouth. He shakes underneath you, the growing needy noises of his unrestricted lust sending growing fires down towards your own cunt, singing blissfully about just how much he wants this. “I can’t move on until you use your words,” you try again, watching as his head nods pathetically, his bottom lip flushed red from his teeth assaults.

“T-This feels good,” Tamaki shudders, his body shaking under your change of movement, obviously liking how your lips press to the scars on his stomach, your fingers drawing lazy, imperfect circles around his cock head that’s weeping with precum. “I want more, butterfly, please g-give me m…ahhh... more!”

 “What do you want more of?” you hum, your lips tracing up his chest, stopping against the popping vein on his neck, your teeth-baring softly onto the vein as he curses the gods upon the contact. Your hand circles around his cock, the ridiculously hot length throbbing against your hand, and with a breathy chuckle, you grip his cock at the base. "More teasing? More alone time? What does my little bunny crave?”

“Everything you p-promised!” Tamaki curses, hips thrusting upwards into your hands, rubbing blindly, desperately into your expecting fist as your tongue stripes up the length of his chin. “P-Please, butterfly, I want everything you told me what you would do!”

It wasn’t quite the answer you were looking for, but you knew what to expect from Tamaki subbing. The growing wet patches on the blindfold emphasize that you couldn’t push too far, or else it would be over before it began.

“Which food would you like first?” you asked, deciding to push ahead, bringing the covered bowls to your side. You adjusted so that you were straddling his torso, smiling when he whimpered at the feeling of your hot cunt against his body. 

“W-Whipped cream,” he breathed so quietly you almost missed it. Smiling to yourself, you grabbed the small cylinder container and focused your attention on his light brown nipples and prominent collarbone. 

“Whipped cream it is,” you tease, your head stretching down so that your lips pressed two painted and wet kisses over his hardened nipples, and the soft, sugary moan that passed his lips in result nearly made you abandon this entire scenario altogether. 

This was just for initial contact, to wet his skin, you had to repeat in your head as your tongue flicked over his warm nipple, his hips snapping up into the abandoned air as you slinked forward to press light, intentioned kisses to his collarbone.

Right as his bitten ruby red lips opened to demand something more from you, you pressed the canister to his abandoned nipples and allowed the application of the sticky wet and white sugar onto his body. Your teeth continued to nibble on his collarbone as you did this, watching his every reaction — little and big — in an attempt to see just how much he liked it. 

When you finally pulled away, you made sure to leave with a loud pop, smiling at the loud whine that escaped his lips when you sprayed the food against his collarbone. 

“Imma lick it off now,” you explained, fingers raking just hard enough to leave a trail of goosebumps as you planted your ass onto his throbbing, hard cock. “Do you want to watch?”

“I d-don’t—” he hiccuped, breathing erratic, face dangerously red beneath the blindfold. “I don’t know!”

“Okay, no worries, bunny,” you coo, fingers stroking his wet cheeks. “I’ll let you test it out. I’ll lick the first one off without you looking, and you’ll tell me how you like it, okay?”

“T-That sounds good,” he agrees, and you waste no time.

Your mouth envelopes his sugar covered nipple, the sweet thickness of the cream being swallowed in your mouth as you push even further. Tamaki cries beneath you.

Humming, your tongue laps at the sticky sugar on his skin, the salty taste of his skin, and the sweet of the sugar invading your taste buds. You do your best to hold him down, your teeth taking his pebbled nipple in and tugging on it until the light brown color of his nipple turns red until he’s rutting senselessly and desperately into your clothed cunt.

Desperate and needy for more. 

Your fingers dive beneath the breast of his chest, teasing the muscled valley as you continue lapping his nipple into overstimulation.

“The next one!” he wheezes. “P-Please, butterfly, the next tone!”

“Do you want to watch?” you ask, stupidly addicted to the way his nipple tastes in your mouth. “Wanna watch me suck your nipple?”

Tamaki shakes his head frustratedly, longingly, “I can’t, it’ll make me cum!”

You almost feel sorry for him.

You perform the same exact thing to his other nipple, teeth tugging at the sensitive skin, tongue swirling the throbbing skin in your mouth until he’s begging for something more, anything more. You sticky fingers taking his other swollen nipple, pinching and pulling it until he can only mantra your name. You wish you were strong enough to deny him, but the rutting against your covered cunt, the delicious sultry whines, and breathy moans and tears that stream down his face is too much for you.

You’re up off his torso, your fingers ripping off your panties with reckless abandon.

Tamaki’s breathing is heavy, almost delirious as your fingers tug down the silk blindfold, so it's fallen to his neck. It sits around his skin, wet and shiny. But Tamaki’s tear-soaked eyes are scrunched closed when your lips suddenly press to his.

Chapped, swollen, and hot lips quiver against yours, so nervously, so messily, you’re nearly kissing just his teeth. 

“I needa—” he pants, his head tilting to that your nose meets his mouth. “I needa cum, butterfly, please.”

You hum, a bit disappointed in the relatively quick ending of your kiss, but you pulled away. Twisting around, your arm stretched out, and you went into an abandoned bowl. Tamaki watched you like a hawk.

With a hammering heart, and heat pulsating through your entire body, you turned your head to look at him. It was slow, methodic, and seductive, and Tamaki’s teeth found his bottom lip once again as you met his eyes through hooded eyes. 

“Open up, bunny.” 

Obediently, Tamaki’s mouth opened, and you brought your hand to his line of sight, and clutched between your warm fingers was a bright red strawberry covered in white, sweet cream. “Eat it quickly,” you drawl slowly as you press the strawberry to his lips, smiling slowly when the white cream covers his equally red lips. “I have an even better dessert after this.”

The gulp from his throat sent a maddening, delirious shiver down your spine.

And he devoured it without a moment of hesitation.

Licking the remaining cream on his lips, you giggled when he gasped against your tongue, and you moved.

Pushing up off the bed, you felt power thrum through you as his eyes darkened in lust and his still growing need as you gently pressed his forehead to the mattress. His breathing seemed to stop as the two of you stared at one another, like a prey looking eyes with a predator, knowing the inevitable outcome of the nearing events.

“Don’t disappoint me,” you tease, lowering yourself to his eagerly awaiting mouth.

The moan that poured through your spine was nearly immediate; the feeling of his cold tongue and wet lips pressing against your slick covered cunt was exhilarating as it was relieving. Your eyes instantly rolling to the back of your head when his strawberry coated tongue pushed through your swollen lips to lap at your pulsating core.

A breathless, whining sigh escaped your lips when Tamaki’s nose carted between your folds, the tip of his nose brushing against your sensitive clit, and you rotate your hips in your content.

“Yes, bunny, just like that. Eat my pussy just like that!” you cry in joy, your fingers pushing your breasts free from your bra to pull and tug at your attention-demanding nipples. “You eat me out s-so good, pretty little mouth, slutty little tongue.”

At the mention of slut, Tamaki moaned deep within you, his tongue vibrating in your core with his verbal appraisal, and your toes curled at the alluring sensation. 

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you began to rock your hips faster against his face, your chest puffing with pride when Tamaki’s hands banged against the restraints, a telling that he wanted to touch you, and the stupid, soft, needy gasps passed into your core only drove you on further. A whimper went through you when you leaned slightly forward, your clit unapologetically pressing against his nose, and the electric stimulation coursing through your body with that alone had your toes curling. And the pressure in your lower belly was only growing more and more.

His tongue continued to lap within you, the nearly greedy slurps he took with your growing aggressive rutting making you sing his name in praise and encouragement. Amajiki Tamaki was many things, and his ability to use that tongue was a higher skill of his you personally enjoyed. 

“Taste so good,” Tamaki babbled from beneath you, his mouth latching onto your clit. “So, so good.”

It’s the moment his teeth sink against your clit that you slam forward, hand banging against the wall to steady you as an orgasm rips through you, the shriek on your tongue echoing off the wall. 

All is silent for a bit as you roll off your fiancé's right side who is panting heavily, his eyes closed as he breathes in steadily, the shine of your slick on his face bright under the dim lights of the room. You blink as you stare at him, the serenity on his face from making you cum without a doubt the cause of it, but you weren’t done with this night.

Not yet.

“Bunny?” you whisper questioningly against his pointed ear, grinning slowly as the tip flushes red and goosebumps flash across his skin. 

“Y-Yes?” Tamaki stammers, his eyes screwing tighter instead of opening.

A sugar-sweet giggle is unable to be stopped as you press forward, your teeth nibbling on his ear just hard enough that the sound Tamaki makes is a cross between throbbing lust and gently pain. He trembles as he does so, and you can’t help but swell in the thought that right now, especially as he shakes, he looks like a defenseless, needy bunny.

“I want to see you try it now,” you request, your left hand supporting your head, and your right hand tracing a single finger down his twitching abdominal muscles until it reaches his weeping cock. You grasp his throbbing cock firmly, contently studying the way he resists against his restraints as his back arched off the bed, hips blindly thrusting into your fist. “I want to see you manifest a pussy, bunny,” you nearly whine as your grip on his cock only tightens.

“A-Ah!” Tamaki cries, his face flushed a dark red. His hips instinctively rut up to your grasp, but you’re smart enough now, and you follow it, denying him the friction he so craves. “I-I-I can’t!”

“Why not?” you pout, drawing even closer to his blushing face, smirking when you could feel the pulsing blood in his face radiate off onto you. “Why won’t you try for me, bunny? I know you can do it! You’d look so cute with a pussy like mine, so tight, so wet, so… sweet.”

Tamaki splutters when your tongue swipes against his lips, and he still tastes of you and strawberries.

So sweet.

“Do it for me, bunny, I wanna see it…”

“W-What if I can’t?” Tamaki almost sobs, and you warm at his words.

“Then I’ll ride your cock until your cock is bruised, and I’m pregnant with your kids,” you promise, your lips pressing against his despite the obvious whimper on his tongue.

Then, you felt it.

The cock in your fist began to change. Warm energy emitting from where his cock once was as you pulled away from his quivering lips to look at the pretty pink pussy that manifested where his cock once was. It was void of pubes, looking as smooth as a baby’s butt, and was absolutely soaked.

If you thought you’d had heard the pitchiest squeak coming from Tamaki’s mouth before, it was nothing like this when he too took a look at his pussy.

“O-Oh my god,” he breathlessly whispers, and you feel a thrilling sensation rock through your entire body as you’re now much more focused on the gleaming cunt on your fiancés lower body. 

In an almost trance-like feeling, you had the spreader bar in your fist and slammed it up to his face so that he could hold it. The simple action allowing Tamaki’s fully formed cunt to spread open for you in all its soaked glory. The smell of his sex alluring and almost spicy as you found your tongue shoved all the way into his awaiting cunt, and he howled.

A wordless command passed through your body as you let go of the cold spreader bar to Tamaki, who held it above his head as if it was his lifeline. You took sloppy, loud, and aggressive licks and sucks o his sweet essence, moaning at the copious amount of slick that easily poured from his cunt that throbbed like a vice around your tongue.

You wanted more from him, you craved more for him, and before you knew it, your fingers were curled above your tongue. You could feel the puffiness of his inner walls, and you delighted more when his clit against your nose throbbed with vivacity. 

“Y-Y/N!” Tamaki all but screams as you drunkenly drink his sweet essence, delirious on the taste and the sounds he was making. “My stomach — fuck, fuck, fuck — my stomach feels so funny! It’s feeling so-o aahhh, oh my god, so tingly!”

And you rip away.

Your eyes are owlishly large as you stare at the now writhing with discontent Tamaki who was crying with the unknowing need to cum.

He was close, you realized, so fucking close.

“Don’t leave me!” he shrieked as you tumbled off the bed, your legs feeling weak with your growing euphoria. “Finish what you started!”

A chuckle rips through your body as you pull up the harness that was hanging by the nightstand.

“Oh, I intend to, bunny.”

With a loud zipping of fabric, Tamaki’s head snapped upward to look at you, and you smiled knowingly.

His eyes were red and swollen with his tears, his face red as you’ve ever known, and his exposed cunt (which was still exposed as his hands pathetically still held onto the spreader bar) was soaking the bed with his essence, but he couldn’t even bear to feel embarrassed.

Why?

Well, strapped to your hips, and supported around your thighs was a pretty pink harness with a massive, veined, curved, cum spilling dildo attached to it.

“Do you like it?” you ask innocuously, your finger pressing to your bottom lip.

He can only gulp.

“I think,” you start off slowly, crawling back onto the bed to sit right before his exposed cunt. Your hands move to the cuffs on the spreader bar to slowly release his ankles from the restraints. “Well, I just love when you cum deep within me… and your cock is so big, so good, I just had to repay you for always fucking me so. fucking. good.”

“B-Butterfly!” he keens as you allow his legs to drop to the sides of you, and you sit up off your knees, placing the head of the dildo between his pink lips. His head falls to the mattress, his back arching as you continue to slick the dildo up with his dripping slick. 

“Hm?” you answer, looking into his dark, glazed over eyes. Your hips, however, continue to shallowly thrust against the folds of his pussy, coating the pink silicone with shiny slick. A lazy smirk falls on your lips at the sight of his red face. “What do you want, Ta-ma-ki?”

“Fuck me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

With one hand guiding the head of the pink dildo into his pink, quivering cunt, and the other on his trembling thigh, you pushed through his tight entrance.

The moan that bubbled past Tamaki’s lips was near-pornographic as you as calmly as you could, pushed all the way in. You allowed Tamaki to adjust to the cock in his cunt, undoubtedly new to the sensation that having a thick, long cock buried deep within your cunt felt like. His hands, still bound to the headboard, were clawed in his sensual pleasure, and you enjoyed the way his eyelids fluttered, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

His hips twirled against the dildo, and you looked down, truly fascinated with the way his pussy squeezed around the strapon that you imagined as an extension of yourself. Imagining the sensation of his cunt against your strap, the heated slick of his cunt, and you felt your own heat blazing down your inner thighs.

“So cute, so pretty,” you purr, your hips falling back before softly thrusting back into him.

The sight of the dildo disappearing into his cunt is inconceivable, and despite his choking, gasping breaths, you pull out and thrust back in. 

Again.

“Oh.”

Again.

“O-Oh my—”

Again.

“Y-Y/N!” Tamaki wailed as suddenly your hips were thrusting into him, delivering the pretty pink dildo all the way until you felt the natural barrier of his cervix. But you were hooked on this power. The dizzying sensation that boiled deep within your bloodstream as Tamaki thrashed beneath you.

Your fingers dug into his thighs, pressing his knees into the mattress as you pressed up, allowing for the new angles of gravity to help thrust down heavier, harder, faster.

“Such a sweet, perfect pussy,” you gasp against Tamaki’s sweaty, exposed neck. “You’re so good, bunny, so tight and cute around my cock. Do you like my cock? Do you like the way it feels to be stretched out like this? To be fucked to irrationality? This is how you make me feel all the time, bunny. You understand that I needed to repay you, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Tamaki cried, the babbling yes’s growing louder and continued as you continued to drill into him, the squelching of his pussy, and the slapping of your thighs on his ass coming together to play a symphony only the two of you would know.

His hiccuping sobs are stopped when your fingers blindly snatched a strawberry from the nearby bowl, shoving it within his mouth. You drink in the way the flesh of the berry breaks against his lips and the way he sloppily, almost pathetically eats it from your fingers. The sticky sweet red juices spill past his lips, dribbling down his chin as he attempts to eat it, and you lean forward, licking the juices that escape his mouth clean off his skin.

You trail up, kissing, licking, and biting every piece of unattended flesh, and with your fingers still in his mouth, you kiss him.

“My stomach!” Tamaki cries against your tongue and fingers. “It feels — r-right there — it feels tingly! Like it's on.. ahhh, on fire!”

“That’s a good thing, bunny,” you swear, your hips powerful, sharp, and delivering upon every fantastic dick down he had ever given you. Your free hand reaches for the blindfold that went ignored for so long around his neck, and with the renown power of being a pro hero, you tightened it around his throat, choking him of his mindless babbling, making him arch off the mattress. “That means you’re gonna cum, cum for me, bunny, cum. Cum and I'll fill you up with my cum too, you'll look so cute with my cum dripping from your cunt, wouldn't ya, bunny?”

And then, it happens, Tamaki’s teeth bite down on your fingers, eyes crossing and rolling to the back of his head. His body going rigid for a second before massive trembles shake through his entire body, and the unfamiliar whirring of the dildo informs you that it caught onto his orgasm. In return, it hums as fake cum spills from the dildo, splattering into Tamaki’s pretty pink cunt.

His body trembles as he collapses completely against the mattress, and you can only stare after him, your own breathing scattered and shallow as he seems to be transcending from his body as he lays there. Bliss painted in every corner of his body.

You move out, letting the massive dildo escape his tight cunt, and you’re pleased when the white cum slowly seeps from his slit.

It was then that you realized just how extremely lucky you were to be marrying someone like Tamaki, and you paused, thinking about just how many things the two of you could now do.

Oh yeah, this was definitely going to be a journey.

[eternally-writing]

backstage business | jjk

genre: smut and fluff

rating: R (18+, minors dni!!!)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: idol!au, bighit worker! reader

word count: 2.0k

warnings: swearing, unprotected sex (practice safe sex!!), sorta exhibitionism, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, oral rex (f receiving),  dirty talk, creampie, brief gagging kinda 

synopsis: Working as a stylist for Bighit meant that sometimes you could give a little extra attention to Jungkook. 

Banner by me!

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“Y/N-shi, can you help me with these buttons on my shirt”

The voice calling out to you from behind a dressing room door tore you away from fixing Taehyung’s tie and off to him. Talking to some of the other stylists, you snuck away to tend to your job.

As you opened that dressing room door, you immediately felt yourself get pulled in and pressed against a broad chest.

“Jeez, mmph, someone’s eager. Hello to you too Jeon” 

You could immediately feel his wet, hot lips attacking any of your exposed skin, and you could secretly hear Jungkook murmuring to the heavens, thanking them for making you wear and off the shoulder top to work today. 

“I missed you so much bub, couldn’t keep my eyes off of you all morning”,” Jungkook breathed to you in between kisses, barely taking long enough breaks in order to get a whole sentence out.

“Oh really? How much” 

Jungkook looked up at you and grinned, his eyes darkening with a sinful glance in them. 

“Let me show you love”

He immediately started unbuttoning your blouse, sliding his hands down to cup your chest. The feeling of Jungkook’s hands on your chest was something that you would never get enough of. As his mouth attached to your nipple, you couldn’t hold back your moans. Jungkook was lapping at your chest like he hadn’t eaten anything all day (truth was, he hadn’t) and he was absolutely enchanted by the way your body reacted to his tongue. 

“Shh, babygirl, everyone’s right outside that door trying to get ready. Do you want them to know how much of a slut you are?”

Truth was, a part of you really did, but alas, you needed your job so silent quickies with Jungkook in dressing rooms would have to do. 

“M-. more kook, I need more of you” 

Feeling like teasing you, Jungkook slowly trailed his hands over your body. 

“More of me here?” he innocently inquired as he began by reaching up to move your hair behind your ear. 

Your breaths became irregular with his touch, but both of you knew that was not what you had in mind, 

Trailing his hands down, he brought them to your waist, squeezing the supple flesh there tenderly. “Here?” 

You shook your head, growing impatient with need. 

His hands then landed on your thighs, rubbing them ever so slowly while gazing at you with a sultry look. 

Unable to take it anymore, you took his hand and hastily brought it to cup your pussy. Immediately groaning in relief, you started to grind down onto his open palm and let your juices coat his skin. 

“So wet just for me? What a dirty girl. I bet you’re already wet enough that I could just do this”

Without any warning, Jungkook plunged one finger into your core, the feelings sending shockwaves throughout your system. The raw scream that arose from your chest was loud enough to make the mirrors on the wall shake. 

Jungkook tsked you at your eagerness and cocked his head to the side. 

“If you can’t keep quiet babygirl, i’m going to have to shut you up myself. You’re gonna by good for me right baby? Gonna be my good girl?” 

You nodded feverishly at Jungkook’s words, but there was no way you could stop the sounds of pleasure from escaping you.

You thought Jungkook would keep his lips on yours to keep you quiet, but instead, you felt his mouth under your skirt, gripping your thong between his teeth and pulling it down your legs. 

Taking a moment to appreciate how your panties were absolutely soaked, Jungkook felt a moan slip through his lips. 

“You remember your safeword right?” 

You nodded. 

“Say it back to me babygirl.”

You spoke confidently, with an air of excited in your  voice. “Pizza”

“Tap me twice if you can’t talk okay?”

Now accepting your nod as a response, Jungkook stuffed your panties into your face, allowing you to taste your wetness on your own tongue as he moved back down to your core. 

Plunging his finger back into your core, your groans were now successfully muffled on your own thong, but nothing could hide the way your body writhed under Jungkook’s ministrations. 

He then switched his tongue attacking your sex, then bringing his hand to your clit, rubbing in circles. 

“S-so, fffucking, gooood, kook” you moaned, the words still decipherable to Jungkook’s ears though your barricaded mouth. 

His tongue dipping deep into your core, Jungkook was devouring every last bit of essence in you. His mouth was buried into your cunt, his nose even brushing against your cunt to add extra pleasure. 

As much as Jungkook knew he needed to keep you quiet, the sound of your moans was the most beautiful sound on his ears, and he would do anything to hear it. 

“Need to hear you babygirl, I miss your moans already”

Taking the cloth out of your mouth, Jungkook placed you up on the sink and bunched your skirt up, allowing him perfect access to your dripping cunt. Enjoying the newfound freedom, you couldn’t stop yourself from whispering out praises for Jungkook. 

“I’m so c-close Kookie, don’t stop please, don-, don’t stop”

But then he did stop. 

Thinking only with your pussy and not with your brain, you were about to start berating Jungkook for stopping you from reaching your high, but before you could get the words out Jungkook beat you to the case. 

“Want you to cum around my cock babe, I need to feel you right now” 

You started to fumble with the same buttons that you had to come in here to undo, wanting to feel Jungkook’s skin on yours. 

As Jungkook’s cock was released from his pants, you whined as you saw the way his perfect cock was leaking with precum, the tip red and swollen and ready to be inside you.

Pressing a passionate kiss against your tips, Jungkook began to tap his cock against your clit, teasing you by rubbing the head on your pussy.

“Ready for this, babygirl,” he taunted you with a smirk on his face. 

You definitely were not above beginning, and you knew that was exactly what he wanted. 

“Please. Please Jungkook, I need you so bad. I’ll do anything for your cock right now.”

As your praises for Jungkook fell from your slips, you could feel his cock twitch at your entrance. 

Without warning, Jungkook began to slide into you, feeling his cock stretching around your pussy. 

“Ohh fuck, I love your pussy Y/N,” moaned out Jungkook in pure ecstacy

“It’s all yours Jungkook. I’m all yours” 

You clenched your pussy in pleasure, bringing Jungkook along with you as his mouth formed a perfect o-shape. His thrusts then became even faster and stronger as he buried himself deep enough into you to have his pubic bone meet your clit with every thrust. 

“Shit baby, this pussy is all mine. Gonna make a mess in this pussy”

You moaned at Jungkook’s words, both of you too wrapped up in pleasure to even remember that the rest of BTS and their crew were on the other side of a very thin door. You could feel Jungkook’s thrusts start to get sloppier as he then buried himself to the hilt inside of you, releasing ropes of his cum into you with a groan. 

“Sooo fucking good Y/N, oh my fuck”

Realizing that you hadn’t cum yet, Jungkook took his hand to your clit, rubbing in circles just the way you liked it to bring you to your edge. Soon you were also a writhing, moaning mess on top of the dressing room sink, and you could feel yourself begin to lose control of your body. As your organsm washed over you, Jungkook kept pounding into you, letting you ride out your high on his cock. 

Coming to your senses, you hopped off the sink. Before you could get to putting your clothes back on, you felt Jungkook’s cum running down your thighs, in a way that was way too obvious so you wouldn’t be able to go outside looking like that. Staring up at Jungkook with your eyes as wide as saucers, you were met with his doe eyes, which were contrasted by the smirk painting his lips.

“Looks like I have to clean you up then baby”

Jungkook then dipped down to lap at your cunt again, cleaning up the lines of cum painting your things softly. Placing soft kisses on your thighs, Jungkook kept murmuring sweet nothings right into your equally sweet core. 

Hearing the hustle and bustle of outside picking up made you realize that you had probably spent way too long in here apparently “trying to button up Jungkook’s shirt”. 

As you were buttoning up your own shirt and pushing down your skirt, you felt Jungkook’s eyes on you. 

“My panties, Kook, please?”

Instead of handing them to you, you caught him stuffing them into his pocket. 

“I’m taking them as a little reward for me princess, that’s okay right?”

And looking at those doe eyes, how could you ever say no. 

Peppering kisses all over your face as a thank you, Jungkook began outting on his clothes as well as he couldn’t wipe a stupidly bright after-sex grin off of his face.

Before you walked out the door, you took one last look back at Jungkook, who looked absolutely spent from your rendezvous. 

“Next time, say you need help tightening your corset or something Kook, it’ll buy us more time,” you mentioned with one last wink before you sauntered away.

--♡--

The set of today’s shoot erupted in cheers and thank you’s as the director called cut on the last scene of the day. You were thankful the shoot was over; your feet ached from running around organizing clothes all day, and the wetness between your legs had only increased as you watched Jungkook looking so sexy as he performed. You wanted nothing more than to be in Jungkook’s arms again as you started to clean up the set alongside the other stylists. The boys being the respectful men they were, would always come by individually to thank everyone, even when they had been filming since 4am and hadn’t even had a chance to eat lunch yet. 

When Jungkook came over to you, he tried to give you a platonic hug in an effort to conceal your secret hook ups from the boys and your co-workers. He couldn’t stop himself from whispering in your ear. 

“Thank you for the gift today Y/N, this shoot was a lot of fun thanks to you”

To any onlooker his words would have seemed completely normal, but only to you and Jungkook did you understand the true meaning of his sentiments. 

Passing him off with a pat on the back, you then became face to face with Jimin. 

Instead of the regular thank you’s you’d received from the other members, he instead leaned in to whisper in your ear. 

“Could you be a little quieter next time you fuck our maknae? Next time we won’t even be able to film a bangtan bomb outside while you guys are going at it like rabbits in there.” 

You couldn’t hide the way your jaw (and Jungkook’s) dropped at his words. Unable to speak, he carried on.

“I’m just joking with you though. Keep doing what you’re doing Y/N, it looks like you make our maknae really happy” 

In a slight look of shame, you cowered into Jungkook’s chest, while he laughed loudly at the situation.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

If you liked this please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

[justcallmenikki7]

BTS Reaction To: Them Breaking You Out of Jail

Mafia!Au & Maknae Line

Summary: the boys are not happy when they find out that you, their girlfriend, was arrested and put into jail.

Warnings: mafia related stuff: guns, killing, mature themes (torture), split!jungkook that is basically a given with his insane personality, okay jungkook is insane in this mainly because of his love for you, ACAB is mentioned in this on all of the parts mainly in tae’s part but the term ‘acab’ is not said directly, a heated kissing scene in kook’s part, THE RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE BOYS IS A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP!!!.

W.C.:

Notes: I went overboard with jungook’s part that I feel like I kind of do all of the time with his part in these kinds of reactions. But, I hope you enjoooooyyyy!!

Hyung Line’s Part

Park Jimin:

You were sat twiddling your thumbs on the cold concrete floor of the jail cell that you were for unnecessary and unfair reason. Being the mafia leaders girlfriend who is hated by the law enforcement is not really the best thing in the world. The cops who hate Park Jimin are the ones who know that they are crooked and unfair, so they very stupidly try to make his life a living hell. Sometimes, you wonder if they know what exactly your can and will do to them, especially if they mess with you.

They thought it would be okay for them to make a scene at your work by arresting you for being a suspect for a shooting that had nothing to do with you or even your boyfriends gang. Shrugging your shoulders, you let out a heavy sigh, now deciding to retie both of your already tied shoes from boredom. What you did not know is that on the other side of the jail, your boyfriend has stormed into the jail, shooting the cops that were in his way, Jungkook behind him as an extra eye. Walking up to the front desk lady who was secretly a spy for his gang, he gave a smile as she threw him a key that was specifically for your cell.

“Thanks, Jisoo,” Jimin thanked before making his way to you, sighing at the armed men that were at a stand off with his gang. “Why can’t things ever be easy for once?” He groaned before signaling Jungkook was a nod of his head.

You did not hear any commotion or even footsteps that were making their way towards you. A familiar chuckle was what got your attention, looking up so quickly which cause you to get dizzy for a split second. “Jiminie!” You squealed excitedly, running towards the bars, grabbing onto them.

Pouting, “Did you not think that I was going to come for you? My heart,” he pressed his right hand to his heart in a dramatic manner.

Rolling your eyes, you smiled, “well, you took an hour too long to come and get me,” you teased which earned you an adorable laugh from your boyfriend.

“Well, my bad, princess. Namjoon was taking a shit as I got the call from Jackson that you had been arrested, and so Namjoon delayed us.” Your boyfriend spoke honestly, unlocking the cell door to let you out.

You tackled him into a deep kiss, heart fluttering like it always does when he wraps his arms around your waist to bring you in closer to him. “I know that you’ll always come for me, my knight in shining armor,” you said once you pulled away from the kiss.

“NOONA AND HYUNG SITTING IN A TREE, K-I-S-S,” You jumped from the loud yelling of the two youngest. “On a serious note, Noona Jisoo said that the SWAT is on their way and will be here in like, I don’t know, .5 seconds,” Jungkook noted casually. A loud crashing noise was heard with a few cusses from Jimin’s hyung’s. “Looks like they are now here,” he said calmly, “I suggest we should get going, don’t you think?”

Kim Taehyung:

Kim Taehyung has always been a person who does not tolerate bullshit and people who have the train of thought of abusing their power just because they believe that they can. He knows that the law enforcement hates him because he basically does their job for them by getting rid of pests and keeps the streets clean. The hate that they have for him is from jealousy and pride. He knows that a few law enforcement people are actually grateful for him because of how Taehyung and his gang can actually figure out some cold cases and criminals that the law enforcement are trying to catch. Some cops and FBI members actually turn to Taehyung and his gang, mainly Min Yoongi the IT of the gang, for help when they cannot figure out a case even though their bosses are against it.

Anyways, the call that Taehyung had gotten from one of the officers that turns to Taehyung informing him that you had been arrested for going ‘over the speed limit’ with a suspension of you carrying marijuana on you really did not make his day. The officer, Yu Jong, gave details of which cell and area of the jail you were at that really went against his protocol, which Taehyung thanked him for, informing him that Jong and the other three officers who are for Taehyung that they needed get out of there as soon as possible because it will turn into a slaughter house. Dressing in his designer ripped jeans, a black shirt and his Gucci jacket, he grabbed his pistol and got the gang together, making their way to the jail.

You are having a glaring contest with the officer who arrested you, the distaste that you both have for one another is strong. “You’re honestly a piece of shit, you know that?” You commented calmly, knowing that your boyfriend could be showing up any minute now, so you are going to make the best of it.

“Don’t test me, bitch. I could make your life—”

“Make her life what?” Your boyfriend’s baritone voice boomed in the hallway, comforting you but mainly scaring the officer.

Smirking, you stood up cuffed hands resting against your lower stomach as you walked towards the bars, a calm look on your face. “Go on, don’t be shy now, say what you were going to say,” you said calmly, too calm for the officer.

Not saying anything due to being frozen in shock at the thought that Kim Taehyung is standing right behind him with his pistol aimed at his head with the safety off. Sighing, Taehyung rolled his eyes out of boredom, “You guys are literally all talk but cannot for the life of you actually say anything to my face, it’s pathetic really. Now, hand me the keys so I can take my innocent girlfriend home.”

Doing as he was told, you were out of the cell and in your boyfriend’s arms in no time. You knew that this was the cop who has been tormenting both you and Taehyung for years now, and you knew that Taehyung has had enough of it. So, wanting to spice things up, you whispered into your boyfriend’s ear, “He also called me a bitch, Tae.”

Smirking darkly at you, “oh did he now? What a shame,” Taehyung looked at the officer who was looking back at him with fear in his eyes, “what a real shame.”

Jeon Jungkook:

You love your boyfriend with all of your heart – you really do – but sometimes you get nervous with how … sadistic he can get with his job. You know that he loves the thrill he gets when he sees the fear in his victim’s eyes, you can tell that he gets off from it sometimes. Knowing him since you both were in diapers and been together exclusively since the age of fifteen, you are confident with confirming that you know your boyfriend like the back of your hand, and as he did you. But having been in the job since the age of seventeen, taking  over his dads position when he was murdered, Jungkook, you can now say that you do not know his business side like his gang. Namjoon once said that Jungkook turns into a completely different person, someone more sinister – and you do not want to know that side; not because of the fear of him hurting (something you know that would never happen) but because of wanting to stay out of whatever business he is in.

Jungkook has made it a mission of making sure that you would never get tied into his business, and made a promise to yourself that you somehow you did, he would make sure that whoever found out about you and dragged you in would never see the light of day ever again. So, receiving a phone call from Seokjin, telling him that the cops in Busan had arrested you as a pay back for ‘scaring them into submission’ and wanting to show that they will not back down, Jungkook automatically saw red. He knew that this would happen once the Sheriff, Kim Jung, stepped down, a good friend of his dads, actually. But Jungkook dreaded the thought of the son of the Jung, Kim Mark, would screw everything up, always having something against Jungkook since the two were kids without any reason. Jungkook had told Mr. Jung that even though they were almost like family, Jungkook will do whatever he would to a person that he ran into on the street – in short, killing them – and Jung sadly accepted that possible fate of his son.

And as you sat in jail cell that was being watched over by Mark himself, both of you hearing the gun shots and screaming of the officers in the room above. There was a feeling of relief of safety that you felt, but there was also a feeling of nervousness, almost fear, that you felt that came of the knowledge of seeing your Jungkookie in action – the side that you will meet. You came to accept that this may change your relationship dynamic, something that both you and Jungkook will have a very long talk and acceptance of whatever that means. To make things clear, you will never leave Jungkook over this, but you know that this is the beginning of being involved in his second life style – the lifestyle that Jungkook was trying to prevent you from of being involved in.

So, as you heard the deep, sadistic laugh that came from your boyfriend, you braced yourself. You watched his intimidating form walk in, his long black hair in a half up bun while the lower half of his hair touched his shoulders. His signature outfit which consisted of his black ripped skinny jeans, timberlands, and an oversized white shirt and his black leather jacket – you would be a liar if you said that he did not look hot as fuck. But the one thing that you did notice about him was the deranged look in his eyes that looked you straight in the eyes – noting the fear you felt.

“Now look at what you did, Marky, you scared my girlfriend, my Y/N. Now that is another thing that you will have to pay for.” He snarled, moving to the side so that Taehyung and Jimin restricted him, kicking the pointing gun out of his hands. Walking over to the cell door, Jungkook unlocked it, pulling you into him for a heated kiss. You allowed him to dominate you for that small moment, letting out a shaky breath as he pulled away. You knew that right now the man standing in front of you is not your Jungkook, it is someone different. Brushing the hairs that fell in front of your face, Jungkook smiled down at you lovingly, “There’s my beautiful princess. I’m sorry that Marky over there caused this mess, but I’ll make sure to clean it up for you, don’t want my princess to get into anymore messes now,” he chuckled a spine chilling laugh, one that shook you to the core. But what made you even more nervous for Marks life was when you were walking up the stairs to the main floor was the scream that came from Mark and the laughter of your boyfriend that soon followed after.