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#he deserves si much
asimp-posts · 6 months
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And then I question myself why is Sanj — I mean cooking my favorite thing 💛💛
(It is really my favorite tho)
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oneirataxia-girl · 2 months
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Relationship asks!! # 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 10, 12, 15, 20, 21, 36, 39, 45, 48! I realize this might get a little long but I want answers for both Keller and Midlaw hehehe
hadley lovely you're so right this was long af 😭 so I split this into one post for Keller (this one) and another for Midlaw (link here!) but without further ado, let's jump in! tagging the other op anime girlie @auxiliarydetective bc I don't wanna spoil the others
1. How did they meet and what were their first impressions of each other?
Sabaody arc, when the Heart, Kid, and Strawhat pirates leave the auction house and they're surrounded by Marines. Killer jumps in and takes out one of them just as the man is about to attack Kenji's unknowing back; cue Kenji's eyes widening like dinner plates watching Killer land on the ground in slow motion and Killer thinking wow this guy is so dumb (affectionate) like my captain when we were young KID TF ARE YOU TOYING WITH THESE MARINES FOR WE GOTTA GO-
2. What kind of dynamic do they have with each other?
smartass x dumbass, sunshine protector x sunshine, "I'd die for you" "who said you could die??? WHO SAID YOU COULD DIE KILLER I NEED NAMES"
3. What do others think of them?
Kid is like ???????? at Killer's choice of a boyfriend, but Killer's taste is all his fault because Kenji like him in some ways (much to Kenji's horror but we'll get to that another time) and Killer is basically programmed to like that type; the other Kid Pirates, after grilling Kenji about his intentions of their beloved second-in-command, are pretty supportive of the two; Mari approved of Killer before they even got together; the other Strawhats also become fond of him, Franky and Usopp are the (joking) exception since both of them had to put up with Kenji ranting about Killer's weapons for weeks after Wano, Jimbei is the fishman Kenji goes to ask about having a crush and it’s very fluffy, then Brook, Sanji and Chopper pop in and it dissolves into teasing jabs, Robin mentions offhandedly to Nami about Kenji’s not-so-subtle attempt to ask after Killer in the day’s newspaper and Nami is iffy on whether the other pirate is good enough, but keeps those thoughts to herself until she can access Killer’s potential herself. Zoro pretends to be asleep through all this but he’s glad that Kenji doesn’t know about his fight with Killer as Kamazo (and has no plans of telling him that), and Luffy’s just glad that his crew is getting along with Jaggy’s
5. Is their joint future bright or bleak?
uhhhhhhhh... ideally yes. but it might have to change for canon events, but I do think they get a happy ending
7. Do they have a desire to protect each other?
YES. Killer is of the opinion that Kenji can't fight, and although that's objectively Not True, Kenji's combat levels are a lot lower than Killer's, so when their crews fight together, Killer tries to keep an eye on Kenji. Kenji is also fiercely protective of his Kil, so when anyone makes a snide remark about Killer's time on Wano, the poor sod has to face a very angry red ball of fluff (Kid) and a similarly furious, gun-cocking blacksmith
10. Who would win in a fight?
Killer. no diff, if they're forced to fight (which would be the only scenario either of them would raise a weapon at the other), Kenji would be out without question
12. Who is a better caregiver?
it’s a close one but Kenji. Killer is good at caring for everyone but himself, but Kenji is a firm believer of "you can't take care of anyone if you don't care for yourself" so Kenji is the deliverer of sunshine and smiles, and he's mentally okay while doing it!
15. Who has better fashion sense?
I really wanna say Kenji because he is the crew's secondary fashionista (behind Nami but before Sanji), but I believe that Killer's polka dot era is going to come back and that Killer was iconic af. so for now it's a tie
20. What's the worst thing about them teaming up?
Killer would constantly check up on Kenji, which could impact his focus and allow the opponent to get some hits that normally Killer could block. Killer's checkups and possible injuries could also affect Kenji's aim, as he might abandon logic and charge at the enemy without even loading his guns
21. What's the best thing about them teaming up?
if Killer does close range combat while Kenji takes care of mid-range, with both of them equipped with a talkie-walkie version of a transponder snail to communicate, then they could deal some serious damage to anyone facing them. other than the battlefield, they're also a pretty fire duo when it comes to making drinks (Killer watches in loving astonishment as Kenji comes up with the weirdest mixes that always turn out delicious); if both of them + Sanji are in the kitchen, the crews just know they'll be eating and drinking well
36. What is a gift one would give to the other?
Kenji would give him little metal decorations like bracelets or brooches with his mask's design integrated into the pieces. Killer would buy fun trinkets when the Victoria Punk docks on islands to show his boyfriend when they meet again
39. What's an inside joke they'd have together?
"when will Kid and Mari and Trafalgar finally kiss, I wonder?" "my sister has WAY better taste than those ruffians, Kil" "Ken, I'm one of Kid's 'ruffians'" "but you're the best ruffian to ruff, and Mari doesn't settle for anything other than the best, so she's definitely not getting with Jaggy or Tra-guy or both of them"
a ton of angst, lots of yelling, and three confessions later...
"so..." "don't. just lemme mope in peace, Kil"
Killer never lets Kenji forget this. it later becomes a joke that Kenji is actively terrible at predicting romantic relationships and he has fun making the wildest matches ever
45. If one of them was in trouble, what would the other do?
look... all I'm saying is if a guy named "Massacre Soldier" Killer has a boyfriend who apparently once used a person's blood to make his bullets, I would think twice before trying to hurt either one of them. rip(ieces) to those who do otherwise but I value my life
48. If they swapped bodies, how would they handle it?
first, Kenji would claim this as the reason why Mari should leave Law (Mari's typical poker face nearly breaks at the sight of big beefy Killer waving his arms around in typical Kenji fashion); then he'd get Killer to teach him how to use his Punishers, which leads to Killer strapping the blades to Kenji's body to prevent Kenji from hurting himself, which leads to a pouting Kenji, which leads to Killer petting his own head (wow Ken wasn't lying his hair really feels nice in these hands), which leads to Midlaw & co stifling their snorts at the sight of a (compared to Killer) smol twig of a guy stroking back the hair of someone twice his size that practically has a raincloud over his head. let's just say that after this, Law had to endure quite a few dirty glances and passive aggressive remarks from his brother-in-law for a while
give me a number + relationship and I'll tell you something about that relationship!
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dengswei · 8 months
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for tushan jing love has always been a weapon. tushan jing was and still is still like a wooden puppet pulled by the strings of those he trusts in the name of love. in the name of duty. the ones that called him family. they were the ones that hurt him in the worst possible ways, degraded him to be less than human, told him he was worthless. love for tushan jing is a lie.
ye shiqi was nothing. ye shiqi was nothing but he taught tushan jing that love is not meant be this way, it's not meant to hurt you. ye shiqi taught him that love is meant to be kind, and soft, and is not meant to be a weapon used against you. love for ye shiqi is home.
and it's not until ye shiqi returns and has to "reclaim" being tushan jing that he realises this but he's not yet ready to admit it not fully until the brutality of the person he trusted the most in his family, his grandma, to take that love and use it as a weapon in a way he could never imagine. who violated him more than his brother ever did.
and yet tushan jing even after all his sufferings both past and present is still the most loving and kind character you see. the one that probably shouldn't believe in love the most is the one who cherishes it no matter what, no matter the circumstances. who tries to fight for it in his own way and it's because he believes so much in love and trust that it comes back to hurt him in the worst possible ways.
ye shiqi was nothing but he was everything tushan jing needed
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superhell · 1 year
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house going to find wilson to try and save wilsons career and finding him on a dock by a lake bathed in. wait for it. pink and purple and blue light. and then they chat. and the writers are trying to sell me the idea that this episode is #huddy
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lavenderfool · 2 years
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My dream is for legion of x to be dropped and never come back
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As always, Simon stumbles into your shared apartment, sighing. He drops his gear by the door, stripping himself down to his boxers. 
He walks into the living room, where the tv was on mute and a figure slept on your couch. He smiles, heading over to you, a blanket over your sleeping body. Simon stares at you for a moment before picking you up, making you stir awake. 
He smiles, “Hi lovie.”
“Si?”
“‘Hats me.” 
“You’re home?”
“Yup.”
“I haven’t made dinner…”
“S’ what? Pizza place down the stree’ is open.”
“But you deserve a home cooked-”
“Lovie? Why are you s’ hot?”
You blink. “What?”
“Like burnin’ hot…what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Your burnin’, lovie.”
“I’m fine,” you lie, thrashing around in his arms. “I needa make dinner!”
“You’re sick?”
You don’t respond. 
“Bed. Now.” That was his stern voice. His lieutenant voice. “‘m orderin’ takeout.”
“But-”
“Lovie,” he warns. “Don’t make me tie you t’ the bed. Now, stay there an’ rest.”
He leaves the room to order dinner. When he gets back, you’re fast asleep. 
***
You stir awake hours later, the TV in your bedroom on, Simon sitting next to you. He’s munching on a rice bowl. You groan, “My head hurts.”
“Have ya taken any meds?” You shake your head. He holds out a bite of his food to you. You accept it happily. “Got them rice pla’ers you love so much.”
“Thank you. I can never get old of them.”
“You should.”
“I love you so much, but I haven’t gotten old of you.” 
He rolls his eyes. “You’re gone take some meds after eatin’, ‘kay?”
You nod. “Love you, Si.”
“Love you too, lovie.”
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makiwife · 28 days
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F the big 3 CL16!
Driver’s Soft Launch Series
Charles Leclerc x Redbull Driver! Verstappen!Reader
Author’s notes: hihi!! back from my year long slump😭 all pics are from Pinterest. It’s a long one so hope you enjoy!! it gets vv messy😈.
Warnings: cursing, sexual themes.
next part
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Y/nverstappen
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Liked by maxverstappen1, Lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and 2.5 million others
Y/nverstappen with love xoxo
View comments…
maxverstappen1: Where is your shirt in the first pic🤨🤨
charles_leclerc liked this comment
↳ Y/nverstappen: fym… it’s right there😅
francisca.cgomes: YOURE SO BEAUTIFUL BABY🥰
Y/nverstappen liked this comment
Lilymhe: bae is looking so FINEE
↳ Y/nverstappen: my wife I love you🥹
F1xY/n: HOW IS SHE SO PRETTY IM JEALOUS
Ferraricharles4: SHE REALLY CAME SHIRTLESS IN THE FIRST PIC
Landonorris: bro is posing before a GP😭
↳ Y/nverstappen: bro hasn’t given anyone vip paddock passes since he got broken up with😭
↳ danielriccardo: LMAOO🤣🤣
redbullY/nfan: SHE GAGGED HIM
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Y/nverstappen
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Liked by alexandrasaintmleux, gerihalliwellhorner, carlossainz55, and 3 million others
Y/nverstappen date before race ❤️‍🔥
View comments…
Redbullluv: DATE NIGHT W WHOM?!???
McLarengirl11: UM HELLO WHO IS THAT MAN?
Lilymhe: STUNNING☺️☺️
↳ Y/nverstappen: I love you lil🥰
danielriccardo: the people want to know who you’re soft launching
↳ maxverstappen1: what the fuck is soft launching🤨
↳ Y/nverstappen: 🤫🤫
Y/nloveerr: SHES TEASING US OH MY GOF
gerihalliwellhorner: very beautiful Y/n💕
Y/nverstappen liked this comment
pierregasly: I wonder who it is😁😁
↳ carlossainz55: hmm I also wonder😏
↳ Carlosleclerc6: bro knows who it is😭🧌
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During qualifying day interviews:
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Y/nverstappen
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Liked by charles_lerclerc, maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, and 4.3 million others
Y/nverstappen fuck the big 3, it's just big ME.
View comments...
maxverstappen1: congrats baby sis!! P1 looks good on you
↳ Y/nverstappen: thank you maxie🙏 i love you.
y/nf1fan: THE CAPTION??? WHY DID SHE GAG OCON SO HARD
Redbullgirly3: THE VERSTAPPEN SIBLINGS HAVING BEEF WITH OCON IS SO FUNNY TO ME
lewishamilton: congratulations Y/n!! very proud of you.
↳ Y/nverstappen: THANK YOU LEW🥹 you're so sweet
charles_leclerc: P1 BABYY
↳ Y/nvestappen: my haters got me to where I am☺️
redbullracing: simply simply lovey!! amazing results y/n🙌 keep up the wonderful work. (nice caption)
landonorris: that caption is so messy, i love it
↳ alexalbon: SO VEERY MESSI
↳ Y/nvestappen: “I don’t really have a lot to comment on that, except that he was being a pussy”
↳ maxverstappen1 liked this comment
↳danielriccardo: bro wanted all the smoke
Lilymhe: PERFECT WAY TO END A GP FOR SOMEONE AS PERFECT AS YOU ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
↳ Y/nverstappen: lily do you want head or sum 😛
↳ alexalbon: google, how to dislike a comment??🤨better yet, how to report someone??😃
georgerussell: CONGRATS!! AMAZING RACE FROM YOU!!
josief1: THE WAY SHE QUOTED MAX WHEN HE DISSED OCON IN AN INTERVIEW 🤣 MOTHER IS MOTHERING FR
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Y/nverstappen posted on their story
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alexandrasaintmleux, Lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and others liked your story
alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story: princess treatment only for the best 💕
Y/nverstappen: I literally love you alex baby🥹🥹
landonorris replied to your story: this is so booktok of charles
Y/nverstappen: LMAOO SO TRUEE
charles_leclerc replied to your story: you deserve everything and more. I'm so very proud mon amour ❤️.
Y/nverstappen: cha baby I’m actually so in love with you❤️❤️
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A/n: Guys i literally had so much fun writing this!! I def want to make a pt2 because there wasn't really any soft launching/ flirting happening. I lowk wanted to show you guys a little bit of her personality, but I also wanted to ease into the romance yk. sorry for the yap sesh but I hope you enjoyed!!
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simonzmama · 22 days
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the floorboards creak under his weight, his knees burning n his joints aching from the weight of his muscles being pressed against the hardwood.
“baby,” his voice comes out low, but not low with its usual rasp and usual deep tone, its whispery and whiney. you can see the pout in his lips from where you sit at the edge of his bed, the slump of his broad shoulders, he looks so pathetically desperate.
“what is it, si? hm?” you cock your head at him, the gloss of your lips shining under the dim bedroom lights as they tug into a sweet unknowing smile.
he sighs, eyes slipping downward n he fidgets with his fingers softly fighting to come up with words. simon can feel his cheeks burn in a blush, embarrassment trickling into his bloodstream.
“give me something, anything,” he laughs, voice cracking under the need that stirs low in his stomach. “please, i need you.”
you nod slowly as if processing his sweet words, yet you know exactly what he deserves. and he’s not going to like it very much, but what comes easy? without pain there’s no pleasure.
“come here then, love.” you grin, eyes never leaving the big hunky man kneeling at the floor.
he’s a good boy, palms pressing against the wood as he crawls his way to you slowly. his knees drag the floor, neck arching to peer up at you as he continues his journey forward.
you can see the tendons in his neck stretch and flex, and with the way his lashes flutter you can’t help the excitement that fills your belly and soaks the cotton of your panties.
“right there’s perfect, honey,” n on command simon comes to a stop a couple feet in front of you, settling back on the heels of his feet as he watches you impatiently.
“unbuckle your belt.” he follows your instructions, hands pulling and tugging until he can feel the material hugging his hips untighten. “show me yourself.”
his jaw ticks as if he was shy, but course he listens and pulls his jeans under his ass letting his cock fall free and brush against the pretty blonde trail that lines under his bellybutton.
“being so good for me today,” you giggle softly letting the words hang in the air between the two of you. “touch yourself, simon.”
his smile from the sweet praise falls, brows falling into a deep furrow that wrinkles the skin between em. “w-what? no, no-”
“do it.” you warn slicing through his voice, the soft of your voice turning stern as your lips scowl ever so slightly.
his face reads nothing but disappointment but he’s a good boy n he’s going to listen no matter what, even if the night took a terrifically depressing turn of events for him.
his hand wraps around the length of himself slowly, shoulders dropping in a deep breath as his begins to stroke his cock slowly. he can’t help the way his skin warms under your eyes, this is deeply embarrassing, yet he complies and continues.
his free hand balls up against his thigh, eyes fluttering as he catches your gaze within his. his eyes flicker across your face, the pretty red of your lips, the lively look in your pretty eyes and its sad how he can already feel the twist of his stomach.
his stomach collapses, chest rumbling as a soft groan purrs off his lips. his head drops back slowly, eyes rolling into the back of his head. he’s been pent up all day and the feel of finally being able to get off has him folding.
you watch his hand speed up, pretty pearls of precum beading up at the angry red tip of his pretty cock. you unbutton your shirt slowly, the fat of your breasts concealed under the thin lace of your bra.
“look at me, simon.” you whisper and he complies, head falling forward wide eyes scanning down the tanned skin of your supple tits and the smooth skin of your belly.
his lips curl as he chokes out a sweet whimper that hits your ears and tickles in your lower stomach. “fu-huck… you look so beautiful.” his mind is all over the place, picturing and painting pictures that have his balls drawing up with an impending release.
“goddamnit, please, baby. help me,” his pretty begging makes you laugh softly, you can tell how close he’s getting, hand moving quickly against himself, from tip to base with soft squelches that follow his rapid hand.
you pull your bra under your tits, letting them spill out for his greedy eyes before you set your perfectly polished foot along the length of his flexing thigh. his fingers wrap around your ankle before you can feel his nails pierce through the skin, leaving small crescents in their wake.
“i’m so close, c’mon,” his words come out in a deep growl before they end in a pitch that heightens into a sweet whine. “let me cum, mama, please.”
you can’t say no to whiney begging that leaves his bitten lips, eyes darkening as you peer down into his flooding eyes, tears lining his waterline. “go on, baby, you gonna cum for me?” ⊹˚ ₊‧ 𝜗𝜚
think sum1 needs help… ✌️
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hoseoksluna · 1 month
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LIQUID STARS | jjk
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pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)
genre: angst, smut
word count: 11.8k
summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.
playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine
warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting
note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ
side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!
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Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 
It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 
Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 
While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?
You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?
He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 
How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—
Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 
You couldn’t. 
Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 
His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 
“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”
You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 
“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”
Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 
You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 
“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 
For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 
He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—
“Let me kiss you, please.” 
You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 
Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 
You exhaled, he inhaled. 
“Don’t ask stupid questions.”
“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 
He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 
“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 
Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 
“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 
Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 
“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”
Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 
“I get to take Bam?” 
Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 
Probably not. Definitely not. 
“But what about Bam?” 
He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 
“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 
You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 
Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 
It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—
“Deal.” 
Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 
“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 
He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 
You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 
Jungkook groans. 
It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 
You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 
He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 
You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 
You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 
And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 
You want him. 
It began with a ring and ended right here. 
And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 
The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 
Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 
And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 
Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 
“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 
Jungkook grips your waist hard. 
“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 
“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 
“Kiss me, then.” 
You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—
When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 
The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 
You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 
“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 
He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 
“Bam, house.” 
The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 
“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 
He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 
You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 
“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 
He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 
A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 
He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 
You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 
His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 
You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 
A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 
Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 
“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 
You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 
“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 
You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 
“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 
A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 
He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 
You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 
The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 
You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 
No attachment, no liking. 
Just sex. 
There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 
“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 
You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 
You broke him. 
And now you have to face the repercussions. 
Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 
You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 
There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 
You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 
Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 
Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 
The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 
He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 
No strings, no pain.
But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 
“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 
You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 
He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 
A lump forms in your throat. 
“You sure about this?” he asks. 
One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.
You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.
You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 
Flowery or deceitful? 
A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 
“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 
Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—
“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”
He blames himself, not you. 
You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 
“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 
He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 
His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 
Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 
He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 
The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 
“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 
The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 
You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 
“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 
“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 
He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 
“Of course I trust you.” 
“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 
Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 
“Are you scared?” 
You’re an empty canvas. 
“Not anymore.” 
Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 
“Okay.” 
He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 
The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 
You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 
Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 
The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 
Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 
“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 
Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 
Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 
Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 
You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 
Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 
Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 
Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 
Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 
You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 
“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 
Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 
“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 
You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 
“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 
You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 
“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 
Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 
He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 
There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 
He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 
A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 
Jungkook sees you. 
“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 
“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.
“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 
Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 
When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—
“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 
“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 
He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 
And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.
He stills the buck of your hips. 
You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 
“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”
You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.
“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 
He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  
Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 
Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 
“Feels good, baby?” 
His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.
“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 
It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.
You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.
Jungkook stops your movements fully.
“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 
His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 
Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.
“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”
“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 
You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 
Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”
Obeying his desperate order, you do.
A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 
“Did so well for me.” 
The whisper takes you back and you awake. 
You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 
He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.
You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.
Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.
You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   
“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 
You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 
“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 
For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.
Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.
And then he sinks them into your mouth. 
His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 
Happy to be wanted.
Good, because he said you were.
As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 
He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 
Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 
You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 
Musk, vanilla, wood. 
The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 
“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 
Overjoyed. Overstimulated.
Heavenly.
“Good.” 
A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 
You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 
You open your mouth, but no words come out. 
Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.
“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 
You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 
It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 
He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 
You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 
“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 
You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 
He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 
You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 
Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 
He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 
He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 
You nod. “So bad.” 
Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 
“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 
You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.
“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 
Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 
Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.
“I watch a lot of porn.” 
Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 
You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 
“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 
He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 
Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 
The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 
He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 
Neither, evidently, can he. 
“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 
So vulnerable. 
You ache. 
You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 
When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 
You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 
But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 
He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—
Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 
“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 
Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 
He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.
Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 
And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 
“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 
With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 
Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 
“Talk to me.” 
You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 
He stares you down. 
No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 
“I won’t play with you, then.” 
Panic. “No.” 
He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 
Silence. 
He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 
“Jungkook.” 
Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 
“Beg.” 
All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 
Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 
“Please.” 
“Please what?” 
You groan in frustration. 
“Be nice or—”
“Please, lick me.” 
That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 
“Where?” 
A challenge. Your throat dries up. 
“There.” 
He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 
“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 
The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 
And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 
“Lick my clit, please.” 
A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  
“Like this?” 
You choke out a moan. 
“Yes, please.” 
“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”
He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—
“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 
Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.
“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”
Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.
Your Daddy. 
You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.
“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 
The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 
And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 
You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 
Daddy and little girl. 
Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.
Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 
And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 
You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 
“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 
He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 
“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 
Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 
“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 
He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 
“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.
Your frown deepens. 
“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 
You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 
“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 
It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 
Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 
He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 
There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 
Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.
“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”
You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 
“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 
You nod, trusting him. 
He pecks you. Smiles. 
“How many orgasms are we at?” 
You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”
Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.
A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 
“You obliterated my expectations.” 
“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 
You blush, eyes twinkling. 
“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 
Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 
“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 
But Jungkook grows solemn.
“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 
Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.
“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”
Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.
“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 
“I don’t stop coming.” 
Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.
“And you finger yourself?” 
You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.
“How many fingers?” 
You scoff. “Just one.” 
“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 
You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 
He didn’t break his promise. 
Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 
And there you feel it. 
The sensation unlike any other. 
He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 
“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 
Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.
You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 
“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”
“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 
He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—
Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 
You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 
“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 
“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 
“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 
Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 
“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 
Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 
“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 
“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.
“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 
White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 
“Please, come for me.” 
Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 
The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.
“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 
And it’s the truth.
Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 
Jungkook grunts. 
“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 
He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 
And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.
And you swallow it all. 
Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 
He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 
“Good girl. Good little princess.” 
That you are. A changed person for all eternity.
“Is your tummy full?” 
You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.
The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 
And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.
“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”
What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.
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© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.
BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three
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Simon Riley who realizes how much he fucked up and that maybe therapy isn't such a bad idea
AN: Lil bit longer than usual, but it's been on my mind
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Art credit to SubsurfaceChaos on Twitter
Something was off with him all day. It wasn't too noticeable until he began distancing himself, getting irritated at being around anyone. You confronted him, simply trying to see if you could help or maybe provide comfort, and fuck did that backfire.
He was sitting in the living room watching whatever was on the channel, but it's not like he was paying attention to it. Thoughts and feelings of the deployment he just came back from a few days ago build up, irritation filling him like water in a bathtub. He doesn't usually have flashbacks or anything like that, the military would discharge him if he had PTSD, but some days he thinks too much.
He didn't even notice you coming in until you were sitting next to him. He snaps out of his thoughts just to meet your soft eyes. You sat on the other end of the couch, not wanting to crowd him too much while he's like this.
"What." He deadpans, voice devoid of all emotion.
Yeah something's definitely up.
"What's wrong, Si? Somethin' been messing with you today?" You ask gently, not wanting to come off as if you're accusing him.
He gives you and irritated look, suggesting you drop it, "Nothin', 'm fine"
You're not stupid. He tends to need a little push in order to open up.
"I know you're not", tone still soft, "I'm not trying to irritate you or anything, I ju-"
"Well you certainly got an affinity for it" He snaps, "Drop it"
You inhale, trying to not take his words personally, "Si, I'm your girlfriend, it's kinda my job to check in with you"
The bathtub overflows.
"You can't listen, can you? I said drop it, fuckin' 'ell" He stands up from the couch and walks to the kitchen, trying to create distance.
"Simon I'm just trying to help, I'm not here to make things harder for you" You try to reason with him, swallowing the lump in your throat.
You follow him into the kitchen but still give him space. He doesn't say anything back, a small part of him knowing you're right but the larger part won't connect to that. Pouring a class of orange juice, he keeps his back to you.
"Si-"
"Can you shut up for once?! Can you? I said bloody drop it. It's not up for discussion!" He sets the cup on the counter with a thud and snaps at you, "You're always fuckin' naggin' at me, clearly not takin' a bloody hint. Jesus Christ"
That shuts you up. The lump in your throat intensifies, tears beginning to form in your eyes. He's never yelled at you like that before. Sure, he's had bursts of irritation during arguments, but he's worked hard to make sure he never treats you how you don't deserve.
"Why are you yelling at me? All I'm doing is trying to be there for you" You ask quietly, voice not really allowing you to speak louder. a couple tears fall down your face, and your nose begins to get stuffed up. You try to quietly sniffle but he still hears it. He hangs his head down and groans quietly.
"Now you're fuckin' cryin'. Great."
Not wanting to be around him much longer, you turn to leave, "Come find me when you're calmer", Your voice betrays you and cracks a little.
You walk away and go upstairs to your shared bedroom. Once you close the door, the crying begins. His words cut through you like a knife, a deep pressure-like hurt seeping through your chest. Sobs rack your body yet you still try to be quiet, not wanting him to hear. You know he's gonna snap out of it and fuckin hate himself for what he did. You know he loves you, and if he were in his right mind he would have never uttered a single degrading word to you.
You slip into bed and lay there, crying. You guessed he would be up anytime soon and the smell of him on the pillows was both comforting and hurtful.
Downstairs though, Simon was fucking fuming. Seeing you go up the stairs, lip quivering, evaporated every bit of him anger. He groans loudly and throws an arm over his eyes.
'How fuckin' stupid can you be? How the fuck can you speak to her like that?'
He removes his arm and leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. You've stuck through with him since the moment you meet. Never once judged his off stand-ish behavior and learned to find ways to work with him. He cherished you so wholly, feeling what he thought he never would. You came into his life and slowly broke down his walls, allowing you to see him apart from his exterior.
He thought he was going to lose you. Sure, you had arguments before, but he had never purposefully tried to hurt you. Knowing that he did made his stomach churn, nausea kicking in. 2 years of the best relationship (not that there were very many before you) all to be broken down, at least what he thought, because he was pissed off.
'Maybe I should fuckin' go to therapy.'
Let's be honest, he could use it. He tried to go through it before but just quit due to how uncomfortable it made him. He figured he was on his own, all before you, and there was no one to deal with his bullshit besides him. Now he has someone who he cares about so much that it doesn't matter if he's uncomfortable. He'd rather be uncomfortable than never be with you again.
He gathers the balls to go upstairs and carefully opens the door. He's met with the sight of you curled up, your sniffles being the only sound in the room.
"Go away" You call out, although not too loudly. Your voice is wobbly and stuffy.
He'd think it was adorable, had he not been the one to cause it. He walks to the opposite side of the bed and gets in, spooning you. He kisses your hair so gently it would give you butterflies if you weren't so upset.
"I'm so sorry, love. I haven't a clue why I did that to you and you didn't deserve a single lick of it." He feels the small burn in his nose as he starts tearing up a little, "I promise it'll never happen again"
You sniffle as more tears fall, the pain sticking to you despite his words.
"I wasn't trying to piss you off" You whisper.
"I know baby, it wasn't you. I promise it wasn't. Could never be that mad at you" He says softly, a tear falling. He grips you a little bit tighter and kisses the back of your neck, trying to bring comfort to both of you.
"Then why did you yell at me? I've never heard you like that before."
He sighs, "Been thinkin' 'bout what happened while I was gone and it came out at you. 'M gonna go back to therapy 'n try to fix what ever the hell is wrong with me" He kisses your neck again, " 'M gonna do better, gonna be better"
He's not stupid, he knows his words aren't gonna go away overnight. He knows how much you love him, even if he doesn't understand it, and knows hearing that from him hurts more than it would anyone else. He knows you're gonna be affected by them for a bit and he's prepared to fix it. Anything for his love.
You turn around so you're both still on your sides but you're cuddled into his chest. Wasting no time, not even hesitating, he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. He lets out a sigh of relief, knowing this is your way of accepting his apology. He softly kisses your forehead and cheek, whispering how much he loves you and how it's gonna be better.
He knows he can't run from his issues anymore and for once he's ready to face them.
1K notes · View notes
personasintro · 2 months
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Romance Is Not Dead | jjk
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it’s valentine's day and you're single
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brother's best friend!jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst (?)
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mentions of sex (it's mentioned quite a lot), reader's brother is kinda dick, alcohol usage, men (that deserves a warning alright), drunk people (it's a party), angst (?) honestly I'm not sure if there's any angst but it's a story with a few realistic topics that are kinda sad if you think about it, it's not your average fluff story lol
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.7k+
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a/n: happy valentine's day! mind you this was supposed to be a short drabble like around 2k lol, I had no proper idea of where this will go and somehow I ended up with quite a long story haha. but I'm happy I got more into writing, I wasn't expecting writing this much. if there are any mistakes, please ignore them hehe. I rushed to post it so I could make it on february 14th. I don't know what even is this story but i hope you enjoy it hahah don't forget to like and reblog ♡
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“Argh! Who even invented Valentine's Day?”
The groan that leaves your mouth – or more like a loud complaint – rolls around the room, not stopping you from tossing your bag on the kitchen's table to show your annoyance more than actual anger.
“Hello to you too, sis.” Your brother throws a peace sign your way, not particularly fazed by the lack of greeting on your side.
From your peripheral vision you could easily tell they're right there. Your brother and his best friend have been best friends since high school, they go way back and somehow, they've managed to stay super close till now. It's quite admirable, you have to admit. You don't think you've ever seen or heard them fight. Overall, their friendship seems to be more relaxed in this sense than most girls' friendships.
Yes, that mostly happens between guys. They're not as dramatic or bitchy as some girls can be. God. None of your current friends are your friends from high school. You've parted ways eventually.
However, the amount of drama free that's clearly not present in their precious brotherhood is equalized with loud burps, unfiltered talks about girls and sex through male eyes. You would've mentioned farting but luckily, you haven't heard your brother's best friend to be that nasty in front of you. Which can't be said about your brother but well, that's a part of having a sibling – regardless of their gender.
It's quite cliché.
Your brother's older, therefore he's protective yet loves to embarrass you at any chance. He thinks he's all that and sometimes, it feels like he thinks he's your third parent. That's what's more annoying – perhaps even more than overrated Valentine's Day. 
“Did someone decline you on Valentine's Day?”
There he goes again.
Teasing you. It's a never-ending circle. Luckily, you've grown resistant to his pathetic attempts to embarrass you – especially when his friends are present. Yeah, your brother can be a dick and you're not afraid to tell him.
Though, you don't stick to the names and curses and instead turn it into something more powerful. 
Scoffing, you swipe your hair back and give him a look. “Please, look at me.”
“I am, that's why I asked.” 
You waste no time in grabbing one of the stupid empty cans he always has laying around and throw it at him. Did you mention he can be a pig sometimes?
Your aim has gotten way better throughout the years and when he curses at you once it hits the side of his head, you smile happily. His friend chuckles at the two of you, lifting the can that has fallen onto the floor and sets it on the table.
“Yeah, and that's why you chase every man that comes my way.” you comment, knowing well damn you're right. 
He frowns, “Those men can hardly be called men, sis.”
“Well, bro, I wouldn't know since you like to be the pain in my ass.” you smile at him tightly, seeing him looking before he goes back to playing one of his stupid video games. “Not that I have a man to look up to in the first place.”
They've been doing that a lot. Lame. 
His best friend's snort turns into a laughter that he barely gets to hold in. That makes you smile because you see it as a success in getting back at your brother. And perhaps your little crush you've had on him has something to do with it. But we don't talk about it.
Your brother glares at him but he's not affected, not even a bit. It's hard to put it into words or make any definition, but he's always been slightly more… intimidating? He has an aura around him that makes you appreciate even a little reaction from him. 
It's humorous. You've known him for years, merrily just from always seeing him next to your brother (because there were never other opportunities), yet it feels like you barely know anything about him. Even though he used to occupy your living room almost every day. And today doesn't feel much different. The only difference is that none of you live at your parents' house. 
“Who hurt you today?”
“Don't be a dick. I can be a bitch too.” you remind him sweetly, leaning forward against the kitchen counter and grab a grape that lays in a single bowl. Probably the only healthy thing he has in this kitchen. 
He flips you off and frowns once he doesn't win the game. Karma. “Anyway, are you gonna tell us why you came here so annoyed or you're gonna eat?”
“I can do both,” you shrug. “I just don't get the hype about Valentine's Day.”
“Oh, you asked who invented it? Probably a pair of groupies in love.”
You roll your eyes, “I don't think that's it.”
“It's about romance. It's romantic, sis.”
You snort, “And how would you know anything about romance?”
He chuckles cockily as if the next words he says is something to be proud about; “I don't. But the girl I fucked said something about it.”
“Ew!” you gag, stopping yourself from reaching for another grape. “You're gross sometimes.”
“You don't talk about sex with your friends? C'mon, it's normal.”
“Yeah, with my friends. Not in front of you.” you justify. 
“Jesus, we didn't have to hear that.” Your brother scolds you, clearly uncomfortable at the thought of you talking about sex. 
You sometimes make sex jokes in front of him just to mess with him. It's pretty funny and it never gets old. You don't do it often though, but perhaps you should. 
“I hear only you complaining.” you sign out, pointing out the obvious and for the first time since you've arrived, you give proper attention to his best friend. 
He's been awfully quiet. What's there for him to say anyway? You and your brother bicker most of the time, no matter how old you are. He's pretty much used to it by now. He just stuck to playing the game and other than cackling at your previous comment, he's been quiet. You hate that you're slightly annoyed by the lack of attention he gives you. Not that you're an attention seeker or desperate for his attention.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out he sees you as his best friend's little sister. Even though you're not as little as when he first met you. 
“JK is the last person who wants to hear your complaints.”
“Why don't you let JK speak for himself?” you question, a little edge to your tone as your brother huffs out, muttering something under his breath – obviously aimed at you.
“Chill out, you two.” he mutters, voice slightly deeper than you remember it even though the last time you've seen him was last month. It has a little rasp to it and you wish your eyes wouldn't glue to him automatically. 
He lays comfortably on the couch, man spreading with a game controller sitting in his lap while his big thumbs rest comfortably against the buttons. You might've mentioned you are not friends with people from a high school anymore, but you have friends. One who would kill for a moment to spend with your brother's best friend. Just to be in his close proximity.
Though, it's no secret he's not any better than most guys his age – including your own brother. In a weird way, you love your brother (even though you wouldn't probably ever say it out loud because he's a weirdo and he would just make fun of you), but you can easily tell he's not someone you would ever want to end up with. Personality and morally wise, of course. 
He surrounds himself with people with the same values, or the lack of. 
And perhaps, it's one of the reasons why you suddenly got annoyed because of today's day. February 14th. You're the type that simply brushes off any guy who comes your way that you don't have any interest in. There's no need for your brother. He's a dick and he chases the ones that might not be husband material, but they're hot and charming. You're not necessarily looking for a marriage. God. You're too young. You don't want to be the one that gets locked in a marriage with someone they just met. 
Definitely you don't want to get knocked up either. Fuck, they're so many scenarios that run inside your head. Ones you don't want to live in. 
Regardless of your current stance when it comes to your life and relationships, you're still romantic. All of your friends have dates today. Any other day or year, you wouldn't even think of it – but you've seen everything in the shape of a heart today. Not mentioning there's everyone kissing and hugging at every corner of the street. 
And you didn't get a discount on your cake because you were alone with no partner around. Who does that? That's discrimination!
Valentine's Day is overrated. Maybe you think that way because you're single. Have been for too long. And while you don't necessarily miss it, you kind of crave for someone's affection and touch. It's not even about sex. 
“Listen, we're having a party tonight. I wouldn't normally invite you–”
“Wow, thanks.”
He shoots you a glare again before he continues, “But seeing you so miserable, maybe you could come too.”
“Party? Is this another one of your gangbang parties?”
“I have never been a part of that, stop calling my parties that.”
“There are literally hundreds of people who are there to hook up.” you inform him.
He snickers, “That's like every party.”
You lift up your eyebrows, not quite believing him. It's like every party he hosts or is invited to. People his age make parties slightly less wild. Not that he's too old but still. He's acting and living too wild for his age. 
“I'm not hosting it.”
“Who is?”
“JK here.” His brother says, head motioning toward the man next to him. “I'm sure you don't mind that I'm inviting her.”
The said man looks at his brother, shrugging. “I don't.”
“Well?” Your brother looks back at you. “Are you coming?”
“Are you gonna chase everyone that comes my way? Y'know, my friends are all having dates and if I don't wanna spend tonight alone, I would rather have fun.”
“You're allowed to come. And yeah, probably I will.”
“You're a douche. I'm an adult, stop treating me like a child.”
Your brother sighs, already knowing what argument is about to come. It's about the same stuff every time. 
“I'm doing it for your own good. The people that are gonna be there, guys that are gonna be there are like us, sis.”
There's a certain softness behind his voice, though it still stays vigorous as if he's trying to get something through your thick head. You know all of that, though. You know he doesn't hang out with the best people. But they're just dicks. And they're thinking with dicks. But you can take care of yourself. Besides, he's going to be there as well. 
JK, or Jungkook like you refer to him in your head, briefly looks at you. But you spot it and stare at him as his eyes drift to your brother. “You can't protect her forever.”
“That's something an asshole would say.”
“I never said I'm not one. But let her have her fun.”
“You know what? Don't come. I don't want you there.” Your brother stands up and shoots you a glare before he walks away. 
God! He's such a dick!
JK chuckles and you realize you've been frowning this whole time. You hear the door slam close and you scoff. “He's such a child.”
You eye him with no embarrassment whatsoever, tracing all the tattoos he has gotten throughout the years. The white shirt fits his torso perfectly, even though it's oversized his muscles peak through. 
Your friend told you he's at the gym almost every day. It sure looks like that. 
He suddenly stands up and you straighten automatically, watching him make his way toward you but not before tossing the game controller on the couch. He stays on the other side of the table, reaching for one of the grapes while still staring at you. 
God. He's doing something purposely.
For the first time today, your confidence slightly falters but you do your best not to show it. You stare as he pops one of the grapes into his mouth and chews on it. 
“You're still invited. That's if you still wanna come.”
You blink, “But my brother–”
“Is like a child sometimes. You're gonna be fine there.”
Gulping, you mutter; “How are you so sure?”
He doesn't answer but there's a small smirk playing on his lips. “You would still come, wouldn't you? Just to piss him off.”
That causes you to let out a soft chuckle because yes, he's right about that. Your brother needs to understand you're not a child. “I would.”
“Alright, then come.”
You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue and lift your brow, “I will.”
You will go to the party. Even if your brother would burn down the city.
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One of the few things you've learned about your brother's best friend – Jungkook – is that he comes from a wealthy family. You know he got his own place in the city center, that alone tells you he's got money. Whether they come from his parents or by his own hard work is unknown to you. Either way, it's quite clear he's always been slightly privileged than most kids your age.
You've never been to his parents' house. There was never a reason for you to go there, plus, you're not your brother and he didn't exactly bring his little sister with him whenever he went somewhere. The only time he would have to spend time with you alone was when he had to babysit you. But you would always stay home and he would let you know how annoyed he is because of that.
A typical teenager who wanted to chase girls and experience his first hook-ups rather than having to babysit his little sister who was born with sharp tongue and big mouth. You're probably his karma for all the hearts he already managed to break. 
Anyway – you know JK's parents' house is settled up the hill, away from the city and in a rich area where all the big houses were built. You've never seen it, hence your first reaction when you spotted a huge gate and a house that looks more like a mixture between mansion rather than a small family house.
Before he parted ways a few hours ago when you last saw him, he gave you the address. Seems like you've arrived just in time. There are many people, outside and inside – everywhere. It looks like the college parties you get to see in movies but more upgraded.
The thing about you is that you would never go to a party alone. Even if two people you know are here. Well, your brother still doesn't know you're here and he's about to get pissed once he sees you. Suddenly, the idea to piss him off doesn't seem so alluring.
But this house – or mansion or whatever this building is called – is the only place that is not filled with heart balloons. They might be couples and strangers that are glued to each other, the romance is simply not present. It's nasty and explicit to a certain extent. 
A part of you is disgusted at how easy some people seem to be, letting themselves to be groped by strangers, but there's something alluring. Perhaps even more than doing this just to prove a point to your brother. 
You don't get a chance to look around the place, since it's crowded and you're trying not to get shoved into, you're looking for a bigger space and maybe something to drink. You make it into the main room it seems. A huge couch in the shape of U looks massive but it fits into the big room perfectly. There are people everywhere and there's not a single space on the couch. However, once you make it closer and spot a tiny space, it's all forgotten and your vision naturally travels to the couple sitting there. 
You would spot those tattoos everywhere.
Jungkook's there. And a woman sitting on his lap as you see them making out explicitly, tongues brushing against each other. Alright, a part of you envies the woman but looking around and seeing more of them staring in slight irritation and jealousy, you're not alone. You scrunch your nose at them not caring and just making out with each other in front of everyone. There's no way they don't know everyone's eyes are on them. The guys ignore them though. It's mostly women.
The one that sits on his lap and seems to be ready to jump his bones, is wearing a tiny top and mini skirt. You can see her panties and you feel embarrassed to witness the tiny piece of underwear. Well, she doesn't seem to care.
His hand is on her waist, gripping it tightly as he pulls away and mutters something into her lips. She giggles, all her attention focused on him. 
Despite knowing him for years, you've never seen him in this element. And maybe that's what your brother didn't want you to see. Not even Jungkook but everyone here. You've witnessed a few parties, but this one is completely on another level. It looks straight out of a movie and perhaps completely out of your comfort zone. 
But you don't leave. You stick in your spot and just stare at your brother's best friend flaunting his charm all around him, but mostly aimed at the woman on his lap. 
Since your brother that eventually came out of the bathroom told you to get out, you've decided to come after all and give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe not exactly the same but that's why you chose one of your tight dresses. They're not special. Just a dress that almost every woman owns. But this one has thin straps and you don't get to wear a bra in it, that's how tight it is. It's the only clothing you're wearing, minus the panties of course. 
You look good. You know you do and that's why you chose this outfit particularly. You thought the heels are perhaps too much, but luckily you opted for them instead of your sneakers. Everyone seems to be dressed like they're in a club. Not even one outfit on a woman here looks completely comfortable. And they show more skin when they wear clothing. Not that you're judging. You're not the one to talk.
And you know this choice of clothing is not only a magnet for eyes, but for unwanted touches you were counting on eventually. It's sad but it's the truth. That's why you never come alone to these things. You always have your friends with you. You would kick asses for each other and overall, you feel more protected and safe. 
The hand that slaps your ass – that definitely looks good in this dress – causes you to turn and twist your face in anger. You spot a wasted man that smiles stupidly as if he did something cute. You shove him in the chest causing him to stumble into a few people who start to curse at him and complain.
“Touch me one more time and I will fucking kick your ass.” you spit at him. 
Your ass might look good but that's not an open invitation for strangers or anyone to touch you unwillingly. 
He gains his balance and his drunk features twist into anger. You see it. He's angry because you're not all over his dick because he touched you. First of all, he's not even hot. And he's wasted out of his mind. There's nothing hot about it. 
He doesn't make it too close because you push him again, causing him to fall this time.
“You bitch!” he yells, having a trouble to stand up and you cover your mouth to shield the giggle that makes it out. 
One of the guys that he stumbled into turns around, ready to curse. But as your eyes lock, all the amusement fades away and your eyes widen in a sudden fear. Shit.
It takes a moment for your brother to register that it's you – perhaps the exposed skin causes him to widen his eyes too before they twist into anger.
“What the fuck.”
“I was invited.” you automatically argue, yelping once he makes his way toward you and grabs you by your forearm. He kicks the bastard that still tries to stand up and starts leading you elsewhere. No, he's not leading you but dragging you with him.
It's not the initial reaction you had in mind. You wanted to smirk, to show him that you're here and there's nothing you can do about it. But that's out of the picture because in the end, you're just a little girl that maybe loves to piss off her brother, but once you truly piss him off you back away.
That realization causes your anger to come back and you dig your heels into the wooden floor, trying to get out of his hold. “Stop squeezing me like that!”
“Would you like to be squeezed by strangers?!” He yells over the music, both of you stopping next to a staircase.
It already happened, you wanted to say but decide to stay quiet.
He couldn't see what the stranger did to you. He only saw the man falling and stumbling into him. So the fact that he's this pissed off to see you here without even seeing what happened just minutes ago, makes you think he needs a psychiatrist. What would he do if he saw what happened?
“Maybe I want that!” you yell at him. “And there's nothing you can do about it!”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to calm down. “What are you doing here.”
“I told you. I was invited.”
“I uninvited you.”
You scoff, “It's not your party, you moron.”
“JK invited you?”
“Yeah.” you shrug just to piss him off some more.
He stares at you for a moment, glaring but you glare back before he shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Fine. But you're not leaving my side.”
You scoff but he grabs your shoulders tightly. 
“I mean it.”
“Stop touching me.” You slap his hands away, his touch fading away as you're about to open your mouth to curse at him some more.
Before you can do it, someone nudges him from the left side. Your brother is about to pounce but once he sees his best friend in the flesh, he stays down but not before he's reminded of what you told him. 
“What are you doing.” He questions your brother but he just scoffs in return.
“You invited her?”
Jungkook rolls his lip piercing as he shrugs, “I did.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Me? You invited her first if I recall.” 
Your brother stares at his friend in disbelief before he glances at you. You shrug, lifting your brown. 
“You two are fucking unbelievable.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, probably thinking your brother is just dramatic. Which he is. While they're too busy arguing, you don't pay attention to anything that's being said. You shamelessly eye Jungkook, spotting how blurry his lips are from the make out session you witnessed a while ago. He's got a similar outfit like you've seen him during the day. The only difference is that he's wearing all black. 
“Listen you two, I will stay out of your sight, okay?”
“No fucking way!” Your brother argues while Jungkook sighs in exhaustion. 
“I'm just gonna have a few drinks and meet new people.”
“These people are not for you to meet or be friends with.”
“Who said anything about being friends?” you mutter, causing your brother to curse at you once more.
“No–” He stops you before you can interrupt him, “You invited her, so you will look after her.”
“Me?” JK frowns, disliking the idea. While you would be slightly offended by the lack of interest when it comes to you, you're also irritated that your brother here is acting the same. Only this time he's giving the responsibility to Jungkook. 
“Yes, you! You invited her, so you'll watch over her tonight. If anything happens to her, I will personally kill you,” 
God. He's so full of himself. If Jungkook wanted, he could knock him out with one punch. But you don't say it to hurt his male ego and boost Jungkook's one. It seems they're full of ego. 
“And I'm not joking.”
He brushes past you two and leaves angrily. To probably shove his tongue down to any first girl he sees. 
And from the looks of it Jungkook looks like he would rather much do the same. But then he looks at you, reminded of his current responsibility. You. 
“Listen–you don't have to look after me–I can handle my–”
“Are you okay?”
“What?”
He stares you down, not in the creepy way to stare at your body but almost looking for anything that could give him answers to his question.
“I've seen what happened.”
“You've seen it?” you breathe out, “I'm fine.”
“You sure?”
“I handled it.” you grit through your teeth.
“You did,” he agrees much to your surprise. “Or maybe you were just lucky.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” You trash with your hands, but he catches your wrist. Gently. But he has his hold on you and your breath catches in your throat. He pulls you closer.
“What if it was someone who wouldn't be so wasted? Hm?”
You gulp, glancing at his lips for a split second before you find his dark eyes on yours. “It happened with people around us. Someone would step in.”
He scoffs, “Don't count on it too much.”
“They would–”
“Some of them. Not all of them,” he informs you. 
You're reminded that he knows these parties. He knows how it's going. And while no one would mess with him personally, it doesn't mean everyone is as safe as him. Let alone any women. That much you've realized and you haven't even been here for a half an hour. 
“What if he waited until you're drunk to take you somewhere else?”
You breathe out shakily, “Stop.”
“What if he dragged you upstairs? And that's just the start of what he might've done.”
“Fucking stop.” you warn him with your eyes but he doesn't budge. 
He tames you like you're a fucking dog.
“Your brother's right. You're staying with me.”
“And staring at you making out all night?”
You shut your mouth as soon as your response gets out. Jungkook tilts his head tiniest bit to the side and the corner of his mouth lifts up. “You were watching.”
“It was hard not to. Everyone was watching.”
“That's not an excuse.”
You inch closer, licking your lips. “It wasn't supposed to be.”
He stares at your lips before his touch disappears and so its warmth does. “You're not leaving my side.”
You scoff but he glares at you which surprisingly shuts you up. 
“I can give you alcohol, you can have fun. But you're not leaving my side.”
“You're worse than my brother.” That's a stretch and you both know it, but you've never seen Jungkook acting like this. He never really cared. He never had to in the first place. That's what your brother was for. 
He inches closer, hovering over you like only his presence can. “I can be worse.”
And somehow, that sounds like a promise. Once he motions for you to follow him, you do like a lost poppy with gritted teeth and anger bubbling inside you. But you don't disobey. Perhaps it's the shock or the weird feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes you buzz with excitement. 
Fuck. 
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It's not hard not to have a crush on someone like Jungkook. He's hot, he's confident but not in the way where he's full of himself. He has every reason to be confident.
And just like he promised, he has managed to give you drinks that surprisingly taste good. They're not too strong and something tells you he purposely picked those out for you. You don't complain. They don't cause you to make grimaces at every gulp and you can feel yourself relax. In the corner your brother watches you with glare, reminding you of something that should feel like punishment. 
Perhaps it does.
Jungkook has you seated next to him, back on the couch. The woman he made out with sits on the opposite side, sending daggers next to you. You roll your eyes very publicly, scoffing and making sure she sees you. 
“JK, can we go somewhere else?” You hear her annoying sweet voice, while Jungkook himself looks slightly irritated that he has you on his watch. “Upstairs?” she suggests.
“Sorry, love, can't.”
She huffs out, “Why? Because you're babysitting?”
You move sideways to face her, leaning through Jungkook as you glare at her. “Maybe he just doesn't want your tongue shoved in his mouth.”
Jungkook sighs, lifting his hand to your collarbones to move you back but you don't budge. 
“Oh yeah? He wants more than that.” she informs you. 
“God, you're so desperate.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Behave.” Jungkook warns you, pushing slightly harder and finally, you plop back onto your spot and fume with arms crossed. 
“Tell your bitch to behave.”
“Y/N.” Jungkook warns through his teeth. You stop, realizing that this is the first time he said your name. Still fuming, you give him a glare before standing up.
“What did you just call me?”
“Come on.” Jungkook stands up too before you can make things worse and he's going to be caught up in a girls fight. This is not the night he planned.
He doesn't drag you like your brother did. He still rests his hand against your back and leads you in a direction. You don't protest. You want to but anything's better than being in the blonde's presence one more second. 
When you realize you're standing next to your brother who's leaning against the wall, watching the two of you with a knowing and quite pleased smirk. 
“Dude. That's enough.”
“Are you having any issue with my sis, JK?”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You made your point.”
“No, I don't think I have.”
“You two are annoying.” he sighs, closing his eyes.
“Excuse me? What have I done?” you exclaim, hand on your chest as he gives you a knowing look that shuts you up.
It's more than clear. Jungkook has brought you to your brother, so he could deal with you rather than he has to. It bruises your ego, but only slightly because you don't let any guy do any permanent damage. But you have to be honest. It's slightly embarrassing how he wants to shake you off. Clearly his plans for tonight have been different and watching the blondie still waiting for him patiently makes your night even worse, knowing what exactly he had planned. 
“You made me a huge cockblocker, bro.” you interrupt their bickering. It feels refreshing not to be the one bickering with your brother. 
Which reminds you that for the first time, you actually see them in some sort of argument even though it's not exactly a fight. Your brother as always is a pain in the ass and Jungkook's now experiencing it. You don't understand why Jungkook just doesn't let you go? Why did he insist on having you by his side at all times? 
Most likely, he doesn't want to piss off your brother.
Jungkook throws you yet another glare, but you brush him off pretty easily. “It's not about that.”
You give him a look which makes him groan.
“It's not just about that.”
And then they continue again. Your brother complains about your presence here, blames Jungkook rather than your own decision to come. He knows you. He knows you've done it to mess with him and it worked. But he expected better from Jungkook. 
You don't want to hear any second of it any longer. You don't wait for Jungkook's response, not even when you see his frown deepen and you know he's getting angrier by every word your brother spits in his face.
Using the tiny chance where they don't pay you any attention, you distance yourself from them. When you're in a safe distance and are not stopped by one of them, you make a run for it. Grabbing a wine bottle from someone's hold, ignoring them complaining, you make it upstairs and try to find a place where you can be alone. Before they find you.
You know once they notice you're not there, they'll be looking for you. Well, your brother will for sure. Even though he can be a dick, he's worried. But let him. That's what he gets for not letting you enjoy tonight. 
Passing by people who either mingle or make out, you try a few doors that are locked. Wise decision. Another reason why Jungkook seems to know how these parties go. It seems almost impossible to find a place where no one is. 
Just when you become tired and desperate, you make it to the quieter part of the house. It's weird because there are people everywhere. It's impossible to find somewhere quiet and empty. 
Luckily for you, you end up in a room that seems to be some sort of office. It's medium sized, definitely not one of the biggest rooms in this massive house, but still bigger than your kitchen and room together. 
It seems Jungkook has forgotten to lock this room. There's nothing special about it though. But he definitely doesn't want anyone to have sex on the wooden desk you pass by. There are a few shelves with books and a lamp, but other than that it's pretty empty. Oh, and there's a small couch. It looks expensive but it seems like they've brought it here just to put it somewhere. Not that it doesn't fit in here.
But it definitely doesn't look as expensive as the furniture you've managed to see in your short stay here. What has it been? Two hours? Two awful hours and no fun. 
Making it onto a small balcony, you sigh in relief when you find it open. It's facing the back of the house and your mouth drops when you see a fountain, pool and a garden in the distance. He's filthy rich. His parents are.
Sitting on the cold ground, you take a sip of the wine. Your features scrunch in disgust but you force yourself to drink. It's more from the whole annoyance and anger you've been feeling ever since you came here.
Maybe they were right.
This place is not for you.
You have no idea how long you end up sitting there. 
You just stare, hearing the blasting music in the distance and the chatter of people. You wonder if any neighbor called the police on him. But they're in the distance, probably they don't hear it as much.
There's a forest around you. There are no cars, no barking and no city noise. You wonder how this place feels like when there's no party. It must be calm and relaxing.
“Here you are.”
You hear it as soon as the balcony door slides open, ignoring the hint of annoyance in his voice as you take another gulp.
“You can't disappear like that!”
You chuckle, “Really? Watch me.”
“Your brother went crazy when you disappeared.”
“Sounds like a him problem.” you shrug.
“Are you drunk?”
You give him a look, a lazy smile making it onto your face.
“Where did you get that?”
“You know this is the most you've spoken to me since I've known you.” you take a note out loud.
He ignores you though. “You're gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a me problem, no?”
“God, you're such a brat,” he groans, “And get off the ground, you're gonna get sick.”
Snorting, you shake your head. “You're acting just like my brother.”
“You're irresponsible.”
That causes you to get a whiplash from how fast you glare at him. “I am not. Y'all act as if I can't do things on my own. Not only does my brother try to control me and watch over my shoulder every goddamn minute, you started doing it too!”
“He's worried about you.”
“Whatever,” you grumble, “Go back to blondie and leave me alone. Or snitch to my brother about my whereabouts, I'm sure he will get me out of here.”
He stays though. He doesn't move and doesn't speak for a moment. Instead, he sighs and sits next to you. 
“I wanted you to have fun.”
“Well, that didn't work, did it?”
“Look at you,” he chuckles, nudging lightly on your shoulder. “You seem to have fun on your own.”
“Yeah, spending Valentine's Day alone on the balcony of my brother's best friend is just so much fun.”
He laughs. He actually laughs and gives you an approving nod once he realizes you're right. “You're not alone anymore.”
You give him a look but before he can elaborate, he motions toward the bottle in your hand with his head. 
“Give me that.”
“No, this is the only fun I have.”
“C'mon, I will drink with you.”
Your surprise comes out before you give him a suspicious look. “You will?”
“Yeah.” he agrees and takes the bottle you hesitantly give him.
He takes a small sip, not a few gulps as you expect him to. “Is that all you got?”
“For tonight, yeah.”
“Why?” you question.
“I will take you home.”
You scoff, but then he continues. 
“After you decide you wanna go home.”
“Really?” Your surprise makes it out again. “You're not gonna kick me out?”
“I would never kick you out.” 
You make a face, “But my brother–”
“Your brother can be a dick sometimes.”
“Woah.”
“Don't act like you don't know it.”
“I do, but I'm just surprised you're the one saying it.”
He sets the bottle on the other side of him. It doesn't go unnoticed by you but you decide not to fight with him, especially once you feel the alcohol doing its job. 
“Well, I've seen it from his side and I gotta be honest, he's protective. Sometimes overly but he's not doing it because he hates you, y'know?”
“I know he doesn't hate me,” you inform him. “It's just annoying sometimes.”
“But now I've seen more of your side and he should just let you live.”
You nod in appreciation with lips pursed, “Wow, thank you.”
He smiles, “You still do a lot of stuff just to get back at him. You're not making it any easier, huh?”
You laugh, “It's my rebellion.” 
You sit there for a moment in complete silence. Jungkook stands up and leaves. You act as if you're not disappointed but before you can reach for the bottle that Jungkook has left here, the door slides open again and Jungkook wraps a blanket around you. 
“Don't look so surprised.”
“Wow, JK does something nice for a girl?”
“I can do a lot of nice things.”
“Is there a double-meaning or?” you trail off, causing him to laugh as he shakes his head.
“Not like that.”
Yeah, because you're his brother's best friend.
Not that you would ever want something with him. Only in your most secretive dreams but that's beside the point. Jungkook is not boyfriend material. You've seen it today more than ever. But you can't deny that he attracts you in the weirdest way possible. You have never experienced that with anyone. 
He's your type. When it comes to looks. And you're slightly ashamed to admit that some of his behavior attracts you. Basically, it's a red flag but what do they say? I'm color blind?
“How are you not freezing?”
It's February and you're sitting on a balcony. 
“I'm drunk.”
God, you're going to end up sick. Even your drunk self scolds you. 
“You wanna go home?”
“Not yet.”
He nods, not protesting as you both stare ahead. Your thoughts run wild, even in their slow pace because of alcohol flowing in your system.
“I was so annoyed because today's Valentine's Day,” you start, chuckling at yourself. “At first I thought I was just annoyed because everyone's in love and everything about today is about love. I do think it's overrated though.”
“I don't know, I never cared about it to be honest.”
You laugh, “Did you make today's party for all anti-romanticists?”
“No, I would've done it either way.” he chuckles. 
“Did you ever make something romantic for Valentine's Day?”
He makes a face, frowning but silently laughing amusingly at the thought of it. “No.”
“You know what? I think I was more annoyed that secretly maybe I crave for something romantic. Not necessarily a relationship.”
“Or maybe you just feel the pressure of today's ridiculous holiday and people around you.”
You snort, “You're just saying that because you're not in love.”
“Love's not for me. Not that kind at least.”
“And what kind?”
“I loved our family dog.”
You laugh, “That's different. I'm not talking about that.”
“I know you don't. Just sayin', love has all forms.” 
You hum, sighing before you start shivering. 
“Come on, let's go inside. You're freezing.”
“But–”
“We don't have to go home.”
“Or maybe I should. I'm getting tired. And I think I'm gonna throw up.”
“You were mixing hard liquor with wine. You will.” he agrees and once you nudge him, he laughs at you. “C'mon, you little brat. It's time to go home.”
As he makes sure you don't fall on the stairs, giving you the support you almost stumble when your brother makes his way toward you, breathless and relieved once he sees you.
“Where the hell have you been?! I've been looking for you everywhere. We've been looking for you! Why do you have the blanket?”
“Found her on the balcony.”
“What were you doing there?!” He screeches.
“Don't worry, I wasn't going to jump. But if I'm gonna have to keep up with your annoying ass for one more second, maybe I will.”
“You're drunk.” He scoffs.
“And honest.” you add.
“And where are you going?”
“I'm gonna take her home.” Jungkook answers, helping you with the last step as your brother stares with mouth wide open. 
“Like the hell you will! You were drinking.”
“I wasn't,” he responds. “Not since I was with her anyway.”
“Doesn't mean you don't have alcohol in you.”
“I don't. I'm fine.”
You didn't even realize he wasn't drinking anymore. God. You really can be a pain in the ass too. But that's your brother's doing though. He should've never ordered Jungkook to look after you. 
“You're the one who reeks of alcohol,” Jungkook informs him calmly, “Or you want someone else to take her?”
He shakes his head, still hesitant. He walks closer to you and wraps the blanket tighter around your form. “Are you gonna be fine?”
“Yeah, I trust Jungkook. Don't you?”
“I do.” He doesn't hesitate. 
He gives one final nod to Jungkook as he leads you out of the house. As you're walking out of it, you spot blondie with a group of what seems like her friends, glaring the shit out of you. You stick out your tongue when Jungkook's busy opening the door for you. The look on your face causes you to smirk.
Jungkook gets you inside his flashy car and you're kinda doomed that you're too drunk to look around and appreciate the expensive type of vehicle. You're drifting in and out of your consciousness. But you notice Jungkook stopping in front of a convenience store, informing you he'll be right back. And he is. It seems like he's been gone for a minute because you close your eyes, open them and he's already there.
The drive and walk to your home is quick. You get to walk on your own, much to your embarrassment there are no accidents of stumbling or falling. As soon as you make it past your doormat, you make it inside your bathroom and throw up in the sink. It's embarrassing once you hear Jungkook behind you, helping you with your hair. He doesn't say anything, just letting you throw up everything that's currently in your stomach. 
“I should take a shower.”
“Fuck that. Go lay down. I will lock the door.”
“Lock?”
“Your brother gave me his spare keys.”
“Oh.”
After a few minutes of bickering, you still insist on taking a shower. Jungkook sighs and lets you do your own thing, patiently waiting in the living room. Once you make it out in your pajamas that consist of your brother's huge t-shirt, you find him scrolling through his phone. 
“You gonna be fine?”
“Yeah, yeah.” You're seconds from passing out. You might've stumbled in the bath a few times but you hope he didn't hear that. 
You drag your feet to your bedroom and fall onto bed. You'll cover yourself later. As soon as you lay down, you ignore your spinning head and the disgusting taste of vomit that is still present, even though you've brushed and rinsed your teeth even in your drunken state.
The night is wild.
You throw up a few times, finding a prepared bucket beside your bed but unfortunately, you don't make it into it the first time. Once you wake up with a messy and aching head, you notice vomits on your floor and you cringe at yourself. Disgusting. 
You wake up around twelve, finally in a better state to leave your eyes open without having to vomit everywhere. You're about to reach for your phone, knowing you're going to have at least a dozen messages from your brother. But you stop yourself as you stare at things that weren't on your nightstand before.
There's a glass of water. A box of painkillers and a chocolate bar wrapped in a package filled with pink and red hearts. 
There's a note stuck to it. 
'Happy Valentine's Day, JK'
You stare, reading the note over and over again. 
And they say romance is dead.
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schrodingerscougar · 2 months
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Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .
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Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.
Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.
When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.
“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.
Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.
So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.
“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.
You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”
You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.
“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.
“No need.”
Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.
“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.
One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.
Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.
No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.
Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.
You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.
For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.
On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?
“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.
Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”
You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.
With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.
Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.
The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.
“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.
He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.
You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.
“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”
“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.
Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.
But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.
“I should go. If you need anything–”
You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”
He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”
“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.
“It's for her. Please, accept it.”
You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.
Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.
Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.
(part three)
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rvmanticlvr · 3 months
Note
Heyy can you do like ghost clit playing/teasing the reader
heyyyy (i didnt realise i had asks!!!! they were sitting here in my inbox for a minth now and im so so so sorry i hope whoeer requested this finds this ughh i feel so guilty and sorry im sorry guys </3)
simon just wants to play with his girl 😔
and the girl....is your clit.
once you give him access to your pussy hes right at it. hes tumbing at your clit, rubing it in circles, putting fingers under the hood, kissing it and licking it-
"si please, its too much please please please fuck me, i cant take this- " but he wont listennnnn
he has a plaything right infront of him!!!!! u have to please your man and let him playyy 😔 (hes a selfish meanie)
"shhhh lovie, youre gonna get what u want but i gotta finish my playtime first" 😵😵
then he starts circiling your hole with his finger but never putting a single digit in!!!! and when u get too whiny and squirm he just slaps your cunt :(
finnaly hell give in and start pumping his fingers in and out of you because his princess deserves a reward for being so good !!!
but.
ofc he doesnt stop there 🤭 he fucks you with his dick (cuz his dick needs attention too)
and pretty much after you both came he cleanes you up, picks you up bridal style and takes you to the bathroom to sit pretty for him while he runs a bath for you <3
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okay but imagine. Thalia Grace, after Jason's death, in a fit of desperation, comes racing to Nico di Angelo, wanting him to summon his ghost, because she just wants to talk to her brother one last time. Before it's too late. Before he reaches Elysium, since the closest she could get to talking to her brother after he goes to the hero's paradise is through dreams, and that wasn't enough for her. Seeing his fragmented soul through dreams is not nearly good enough. She wants the message to reach him. The real him. Not a loomy remnant. She wants to apologise, as she feels her soul being hollowed out with guilt.
She should've looked for Jason, even after their mother told her that he's dead.
She shouldn't have been so busy with the hunters that she would have to cut their brother-sister conversation short.
She should've realised how much her brother craved her attention.
She should've come to the chb meeting that she'd promised jason she'd come to, she shouldn't have made her brother wait like a lost puppy.
The look in jason's eyes when she told him she'd have to leave was etched on to her face. Permanently scarring her soul.
She should've been a better sister. She failed him. She failed to make him feel wanted. She hoped Jason didn't face his death thinking that she didn't need him. Because Gods of Olympus, that would break her.
And she poured all of these gut wrenching thoughts to Nico, who suprisingly listened. Yes. Nico did resent Thalia for being in the hunters of Artemis, the same group that got his sister killed. But listening to Thalia pour her heart out to him, really hit a little too close to home. The daughter of Zeus seemed to echo a young nico, trying aimlessly to summon his sister's ghost to talk to her. They both had the same hollow red eyes, burning with hot tears streaming down, the same crease in the eyebrows, the same flicker of rage over their siblings's murder. At that moment, Thalia Grace looked as unthreatening as the king of all god's daughter could possibly look like.
But Nico was glad, that Thalia, atleast cared about her little brother to this extent. Up until this point, Nico had these lingering doubts if Bianca had really cared about him like this, she had dropped everything to join the hunters after all. Hearing Thalia talk about jason had healed his inner child. Maybe big sisters do think about their younger brothers, no matter how busy they appear to be... So he complied to her wishes. She deserved closure from her brother's death. It would do Jason some good too.
He poured all of his concentration into summoning the son of Jupiter, as Thalia anxiously chewed on her nails, pacing around the murky woods in anticipation. Until a wispy figure with rimmed glasses and neatly cropped hair, appeared in front of them.
"Hello, sis."
Nico di Angelo and Thalia Grace were more or less the same, when it came to wanting to make amends with their deceased sibling.
Except Thalia was the older sister who wanted her younger brother back, And Nico was the younger brother who wanted his older sister back.
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frogchiro · 7 months
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Lion hybrid! Ghost makes me go feral. Imagine when a new (and younger) lion hybrid shows up and starts flirting with you. It would make Ghost much more territorial.
Of course he is not going to fight with that young lion hybrid, Ghost is not that childlish (although he is really doing a olympic effort not to snap that guy's neck).  Instead Ghost drags you to his nest, rips your clothes and rearranges your guts, making you moan so loud so everybody knows you are his and only his.
It's not about mating. It's about sending a message.
Oh Lion!Ghost would definitely have to contain himself from tearing that shit's head off clean from his neck. Who does the little punk even think he is, getting all over you, his mate. even though you're clearly marked??
Sure, they rookie is closer to you in age, in his early twenties Simon thinks, but that doesn't mean shit. The blonde hybrid would chuff at the thought of that young buck sniffing around you; a lovely girl like you deserves something more, someone more. You need a big, strong, older man, someone experienced who can satisfy you on all ends and keep you safe, not some hot-shot asshole who only thinks with his dick....Well Simon also think with his dick around you but that's different.
Now he has you on all fours in your nest, the perfect position for presenting to him with your head pressed into the fluffy bedding and your ass angled high up, Si's strong broad hips pressed tightly against you as his lengthy thick cock buries itself inside you again and again :(( Your mewls and whines are muffled slightly by the soft comforter you're currently clutching tightly, the overwhelming pleasure is almost painful especially with the way your mate's leaky tip is pressed tightly against your sore cervix. You have no idea what came over Simon but his insistent attention, scenting, nuzzling and now mating is something you'd never even complain about.
All the while Simon is loudly moaning and bellowing in between loud growls of pleasure as his thrusts become increasingly erratic, the feeling of your cervix around the swollen head of his cock driving him crazy and closer to the edge and he not so secretly hopes that the little shit will hear how loud you two are being, a clear sign of a happy mated couple and to stay the fuck away :((
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loverdotpng · 1 year
Text
I want to draw this but I might never get to it/definitely won't now (waiting for the melatonin to kick in) so a concept:
My S/I in their thoughts just after Ky/ouko's death believing things were better this. I mean, who'd be crazy enough to enjoy bringing harm to those you love against your own will? They never knew eachother well but no one would be as horrible to want that to happen, right?
All this while they're wringing out a sponge soaked in her blood.
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