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anistarrose · 5 years

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The Truth About Me and the Truth About You (TAZ Balance One-Shot)

Summary: AU where everything is the same except Tres Horny Boys have the Red Robe’s Stone of Farspeech number.

Word Count: ~2000

Warnings: none

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18979621

Title is from Touch-Tone Telephone by Lemon Demon! (which I’ve referenced for fic titles before but that was a different fandom so shhhh)

This started off as crack and slowly morphed into angst, which is honestly a pretty good summary of my writing process in general. Inspired by a certain MBMBAM bit, and specifically this post by @mspainttaz!

Edit: now with a Part 2!

Barry doesn’t get a lot of phone calls — hardly even enough to justify owning a Stone of Farspeech in the first place — so it startles him when it vibrates, and a wave of excess magical energy emanates from him and knocks several maps of the moonbase off his desk.

“Hello?” he answers, immediately chiding himself for forgetting to disguise his voice.

“Hi,” Magnus replies cheerfully on the other side of the line. “Is this the Red Robes?”

The wisest course of action by far, Barry knows, would be to simply hang up and block the number — but he’s been so lonely, and it’s so easy to visualize familiar shit-eating grins on his family’s faces…

“Yes,” he replies slowly, careful to will a rasp back into his voice. “This is indeed ‘the Red Robes,’ as you put it.”

On the other end, he hears Taako wheeze in the background as he struggles to muffle a laugh, while Merle hisses: “This just a phone number you can call!”

“Yeah, uh — how, exactly, did you get this number?” Barry asks. If they share it with Lucretia, she might be able to track him this way unless he immediately puts some highly specific wards on the stone —

“Oh, Merle won this scrying bowl thing in the Fantasy Gashapon,” Magnus explains matter-of-factly. “Or at least, I think that’s what it was? Leon wouldn’t tell us because Taako stole his candy, so we had to look it up ourselves — but the point is, we asked it for your number and it just gave it to us!”

“Okay, so only like half of those words mean anything to me —”

“They made the Relics and you’re talking to them on the phone!” Taako chortles in the background, evidently not realizing Barry can hear him. “Their number was on Fantasy Scrying Google!”

Barry sighs. He can only imagine how much the boys’ shenanigans must confuse normal people, who don’t have inexplicably hazy memories of search engines from other planes of existence.

“Does L — does your Director know about this? Does she endorse you… prank-calling me, at this ungodly hour of the morning?”

“Oh yeah… we weren’t supposed to be talking to you, we were? Shit.” Magnus genuinely sounds just a little bit guilty. “You won’t tell her, right?”

Barry almost laughs, because he and Lucretia currently are about as far away from speaking terms as you can get, but he catches himself.

Think, Barry. You can use this.

“I suppose I can keep your secret, Reclaimers,” he rasps, “but I will need something in return.”

He can practically hear Magnus tense up on the other end of the line. “What do you want?”

“Simply a few pieces of information. A question for Taako, actually — where did you find that Umbra Staff?”

“With a dead guy?” There’s a rustling sound, as Taako presumably moves in closer to Magnus’s Stone of Farspeech. “Or a dead lady, I guess you said it was — I thought we went over that last time, in the lab? You amnesiac or something?”

Barry narrowly holds back a retort of Not right now, I’m not. If he had corporeal hands, they would be trembling.

“Yes, we did go over that last time,” he replies, “but you never told me where physically. Which is why I’m asking you again. Is that understood?”

“Oh, why didn’t you just say so?” Taako asks him. “It was — uh, let’s see, near where the gauntlet was! Wave Echo Cave, right?”

“Of course.” Barry had already guessed as much, but his mind is still sent racing — if her Umbra Staff was there, why wasn’t Lup? Even if Taako and the others couldn’t remember her, why hadn’t she been with them? He’d always speculated that her lich form had been trapped at the site of her death somehow, but he’d personally gone back to Wave Echo Cave after the destruction of Phandalin, and there had been no sign of her there — and if she had been able to leave the cave on her own, surely she would have long since found her way back to them…

“Can you tell us who you are yet?” Magnus asks, his familiar voice yanking Barry back to the conversation. It’s just in the nick of time, too — Barry watches his skeletal hands resolidify, his fingertips having nearly dissolved into stray, formless magical sparks.

“Maybe in like… I dunno, seventeen episodes.”

“You said ten episodes last time.”

“Well, I lied. That’s what you get for talking me behind the Director’s back. See ya!”

The second his Stone of Farspeech disconnects, he collapses down into a kneeling position, running through the self-collecting exercises he’s honed over the years of loneliness — counting to ten, thinking back to happier days aboard the Starblaster, shifting his vision into the spectrum in which he can make out thousands of glowing silver threads attached to his robe, stretching up through the roof of his cave and towards the moon. It takes a few minutes, but he feels his magic coalesce into a much more solid, almost tangible form — it seems that talking to the boys was a net positive for his stability in the end.

“If Taako can find your umbrella after all these years, then we’ll find you too eventually, Lup,” he whispers. “I promise.”

***

They don’t trust you. How can you get them to trust you, before…

Barry isn’t pacing, exactly, but he is drifting in wide circles around the perimeter of his cave in basically the best way pacing can be approximated by a lich, hoping for an idea to come to him.

Maybe I should have expected it, with all the ominous warnings I gave them, but if I’d acted more cordial, they might’ve started to remember bits and pieces —

On his desk, his Stone of Farspeech buzzes, and Barry just knows exactly who it’s going to be before even he answers.

“Hey, is this the Red Robes?” Magnus’s voice is quieter this time despite his greeting being almost exactly the same, and there isn’t any muffled laughter in the background either.

“Just the Red Robe,” Barry corrects. “There’s only one of me.”

“I opened the tube,” Magnus whispers.

“Oh.” Barry mentally kicks himself — he’d been so focused on trying to get Magnus to trust him that he forgot all about the tube. “Right. I should have known you would.”

He lets the rasp in his voice dissipate as he goes on — Tres Horny Boys haven’t spoken to his living form in about a year now, anyways. Magnus shouldn’t recognize him. “Do you see now why I asked you not to open it?”

“Can you understand it? I know what I saw — hell, I’m looking at it right now and I can see it just fine, but… I know I’m in a red robe like you, but I can’t think anything else about it. It just all turns to — to static. I can’t think.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Do you know why I was in Refuge?”

Barry sighs. “I don’t know if I can tell you. Not ‘cause I’m trying to hide things, but just physically.”

“Is it because of the Voidfish?”

Barry doesn’t say anything.

“I swam in its tank.”

That gets a reaction out of him. “You what?!”

“It showed me there were other voidfish — and then there was a boat, and a — a bunch of moving circles, I think they were supposed to be planes, with a light and this big darker plane —”

“Shit. Magnus, you need — you can’t think about that. You can’t think about what it showed you. If — if certain people find out that you know, then everything — everything we’ve been working for will fall apart —”

“Everything we’ve been working for?” Magnus echoes. It sounds like he’s struggling to form the words — whether due to the static filling his mind, or simply out of sheer disbelief, Barry isn’t sure.

“Oh, no — no, I didn’t mean — ah, fuck, Magnus, it’s gonna seriously damage your brain if you keep up the questions like this. You need to push this all to the back of your mind, and just —”

“Just trust you?”

Magnus still doesn’t trust you. He’ll never trust you — none of them ever will. You’ve ruined everything already, just cut your losses and hang up. Block the number.

He can feel the despair corrupting his form, red sparks leaping down his robed arms — but he can’t hang up, he can’t cut off this line, this lifeline, this bond connecting the two of them, he just can’t. He can only cling to it, and put his faith in his family like always — no matter how little they reciprocate it.

What would Lup do? She’d remember he isn’t in his right mind, but she wouldn’t give up on him, either.

Magnus doesn’t say anything for what feels like an eternity — is he oblivious to Barry’s breakdown? On the verge of a breakdown of his own?

“What do you think about me?” he finally asks.

“Excuse me?” Barry chokes out. His voice has that low hiss in it again — involuntarily this time.

“Like, what kind of person am I? You… you know things about me that I don’t, even I can tell that much, so… what do you think I’m like?”

Barry answers slowly, afraid of saying something that would get blocked by static — or worse, making another slip-up that Magnus can actually process. He doesn’t want to know how Magnus would react to hearing that the Red Robe thinks of him like a brother, no matter how sincere that sentiment is.

“I think that you can be impulsive in ways that are sometimes… frustrating, but you’re also incredibly dedicated to protecting people, and I admire that. That impulsivity and that dedication, they spring from the same well of — the same well of willfulness, I think, that same well that makes you such a fighter. I don’t know if I could have kept going after something like Raven’s Roost —”

The second he hears the words Raven’s Roost out loud, he immediately regrets them. It’s completely true, that losing a loved one and knowing beyond any doubt that he could never get them back would destroy him, both figuratively and literally — but he shouldn’t know about what happened to Magnus, not in that much detail. Nor should he bring up a painful subject like that, especially given what Magnus thinks of him at the moment —

“I will see Julia again one day,” Magnus assures him in a low, confident voice, as if having read his mind. “In the Astral Plane.”

Barry doesn’t let out a literal breath of relief, but is met with a similar sensation as a wave of stability washes over his spectral form. It’s a far better reaction than he’d dared to hope for.

(Should he tell Magnus that Governor Kalen was long dead, quickly and quietly killed by a crimson lightning bolt that neither he nor any of his mercenaries had seen coming before being tossed in a secluded river, body never to be seen again?)

(No. He’ll save that story for if — when — Magnus can remember who he was, when they’ll all be safe and able to finally rest after eleven long, grueling decades. It still feels far away, that day of relaxation, of freedom — but it also seems tantalizingly closer than it did just a few minutes ago, when the familiarity of Magnus’s voice and the stubbornly persistent hope of finding Lup were the only things holding Barry together, and just barely at that.)

“Well, hopefully you won’t end up in the Astral Plane too soon,” he says eventually.

“Yeah, I —” Magnus’s voice is genuinely warm for a moment, but it cuts off quickly. “Shit, I think I woke someone up. I’ll be seeing you again whether I want to or not, won’t I?”

“Take care, Magnus.” Before anyone on the other end of the line can overhear anything incriminating, Barry switches his Stone of Farspeech off.

***

(Thanks for reading, feedback/reblogs are welcomed as always!)

#taz #taz balance #barry bluejeans #magnus burnsides #merle highchurch #taako taaco #rosalia writes fic

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locker72 · 6 years

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I don’t think I’m ok. I don’t usually use Tumblr as a diary but I have no idea what friend I would call, I don’t want to impose and the only ones who I would call without that fear are in other countries, or busy, or need a good night’s sleep or I dunno... I’m not good at calling people for help, so Tumblr hear I come.

I’m Ace, nothing wrong with that. In fact it’s taken me since about 2015 to come to terms with the fact that that is what I am. It’s taken since then for me to no longer feel like I’m broken or defective. I still have no Idea how to have a romantic relationship though as the last person I tried to tell while dating them made it about him and asked what he had done wrong (news flash he had done nothing to cause it, but his reaction in hindsight probably started the failure of our relationship as I no longer felt I could talk to him about serious things. Or anything for that matter without upsetting him. Also I ended up feeling morally obligated to have sex with him. Again not his fault he never forced it i’m quite a good pretender and you can’t blame him for not knowing I was internalising everything. But still, they are hangups I still carry).

Basically in the last two years that I have been single, I have fallen in and out of love with friends. Some women, some men, some neither (’Neither are me but I still gotta pee!’ a quote from an amazing person) and each one I have learned to clearly state; I like you, but I don’t want to have sex with you. In fact, I want nothing more from you that you want to give. Each time gauging their responses to see if they would react in the same way. The best one is someone who follows me here (you know who you are) where they responded with something along the lines of ‘that’s cool! I don’t like you in that way but I’m happy to still be your friend!’. Can I point out that they are still such a great friend and our dynamic never changed. Kudos. My other fave is a guy at work who is so confused by the fact that I don’t want to have sex with him. It’s funny to watch him flirt and pull back because he’s scared that he’ll actually care. But he is a child. Maybe when he’s a bit older... and more educated on his LGBT rhetoric. I’ll link him a few pages. Maybe he’ll be less of an arse. I doubt.

Anyway, carrying on. I’ve been pretty good with it. Sure I’ve had my ups and downs mentally, but it was never about my sexuality. Been on a diet. dropped a dress size. went a full 10 days sober. Now however I find myself anxious, but also kind of numb, kind of just sad. I don’t know how to describe it. I just feel... wrong. Not quite here I guess.

It started in a club at a friends birthday night out. Three people discussing my sexuality as if I wasn’t even there. Describing the fact that to be Asexual you have to be ‘gay in denial’ or ‘an abuse victim’. And those are exact words. Had I been sober, had the room been quieter I could have discussed with them, because I’m always happy to discuss sexuality, it’s a learning experience and I’m always discussing and learning. I would have explained why they were so friken wrong. But I was drunk, it was a club, they didn’t care to listen or change their opinions, and I lost it. I yelled ‘there’s nothing wrong with me’. It’s not the full spectrum of what I was feeling but it was better that punching someone. That’s when their tone changed. It went from ‘we’ll talk about you like you aren’t here and discuss why you are obviously repressing something’ to ‘oh no! There’s nothing wrong with you! Special snowflake! We meant no offence!’

Fuck. Off.

I had to get out. They starting saying things like ‘you wouldn’t say someone was wrong for being gay’. Well no, because being gay is fine. Because being gay is still sexual. Because they believe that being gay exists! I walked away from the conversation but god damn they followed me. They fucking followed me to explain just how much they didn’t mean to cause offence. They didn’t cause fucking offence they caused anxiety! They caused anger! They made me feel like a broken toy that either needed to be fixed or cast aside!

Sorry.

Anyway. Cue to today, two days down the line. I’ve been feeling like shit. Questioning myself and thinking that something is wrong with me again. Thinking that maybe of I could just fix that little thing that is broken I could be whatever. A friend at work who is gay I thought could help me feel better. He did for a bit, but then I remembered that he asked My other friend at work (who I desperately want to call but she needs a good night sleep and I refuse to hinder that) who is bi, and oddly has the same name as me (we joke that we’re a hive mind), had the nicest reaction. Her own mother said the same thing to her. This is whi Bi’s and ace’s make good friends; we put up with the same shit! She doesn’t give very good hugs though so.

So I type my issue in the comments of a post (because tags are like whispering yo!) And now I have an anon that is very nice, but by the gods they sound like my ex. Queue me looking at his tumblr, which I shouldn't, getting ever shittier because I recognise his room and his shoes and his hands and god damn its been two FUCKING years I thought I was over this, how DARE I allow some STUPID MAN to have such an effect on me! But it just knocks me over the edge, and I need to vent. There is too much in me. I’m 5 foot fuck all and there is not enough space for all the shit going on in my head.

Anyway I’m drunk because I’ve come off the bandwagon in a big way. I’m trying really hard not to self harm again. It’s summer, i;m wearing short sleeves to work and the guys can already see the leftovers from Easter, but that’s another story, I don’t want to add more.

I needed to rant. Thanks for listening. I’ll try not to do this again.

I need a hug. And a joint. Fuck I have work in the morning, I need to train people. Someone want to Tweet in my place?

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sure-as-eggs · 6 years

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I feel like I’m missing something. Isn’t Ed making fun of Oswald’s limp/appearance just Ed being a villain? Shouldn’t he BE awful? I feel like people are holding him to good-guy standards. I hope this isn’t offensive. I’m just confused why people are mad that a villain is being a villain.

That’s a fair question, and I can absolutely tell that it was asked in good faith, so don’t worry!

I 100% agree that, as literal super-villains, the members of Gotham’s rogues’ gallery have to be interpreted a little differently than standard “good guy” characters… Oswald’s return to form after Arkham involves murder and cannibalism, and you kinda just go “oh hey, he’s back!!” Trying to keep track of who cut whose hands off so you know what to expect out of future alliances isn’t necessarily a ‘normal’ thing.

Let me see if I can try to explain why mocking someone’s disability or tapping into anti-Semitic tropes for a costume feels different to me…

One big problem here, right off the bat, is that Ed is a character we’re meant to root for. He’s written to be sympathetic. We’re supposed to feel bad when bad things happen to him, and happy when he’s happy. Even in the scene when he’s literally strangled his girlfriend to death, the tragic music swells behind him as he sobs over her body, and it’s entirely his fault but his feelings are still just as important to the scene as his actions.

By comparison, the narrative never really sets us up to empathize with, say, Jerome or Jervis. I’m not saying you can’t do it, just that the show doesn’t expect you to. It is clearly not espousing the viewpoints it puts in Jerome’s mouth when he kidnaps Bruce: we’re supposed to be on Bruce’s side. We’re supposed to be happy when he wins and Jerome loses. We can feel that.

On the other end of the spectrum, we are meant to be sad when Ed shoots Oswald. It has nothing to do with either of their moral standing; even Oswald admits that murdering Isabella was a bad choice, though maybe not for reasons most people would be on board with. Oswald is a villain and a terrible person, and we are still supposed to care about him deeply and want him to be okay.

The upshot of all this is that the show has us primed to accept and excuse the things Ed does, to empathize with him and find some way to identify with him, or even to justify him. We forgive Sarah Essen for not standing up to the system. We forgive Harvey Bullock for his history of corruption. We (maybe, some of us,) forgive Lee for her self-destructive impulse to take the Tetch virus. We forgive Jim for whatever Thing he’s decided to do this week. We’re supposed to.

We forgive Oswald much worse acts. Again, we’re supposed to.

Would we forgive Ed more mundane cruelty? Are we supposed to?

There’s a different resonance to fantastical off-screen villainy like the way Oswald deals with his step-family than there would be to something immediate and petty and potentially familiar (potentially doable) like mocking someone’s limp. I really doubt many people out there have accidentally been tricked into eating their children, so it’s easy for all of us to move on from that scene. There’s a fairy-tale logic to it that we can all accept.

But I guarantee you that pretty much everybody with mobility issues has had to grin and bear it when somebody at some point in their life decided to play comedian. It’s not a fantasy to them. And it would hurt to see somebody they care about, even if they’re fictional, disrespect them.

…I’m going to risk getting too personal here and warn for self-harm for this next paragraph, so go ahead and skip ahead if you want, you won’t miss anything crucial, it’s just an example. I had a mild panic attack during the scene where Jim gets hit by the fear toxin and hallucinates Lee. I am years recovered, and I’ve handled scenes like Beth’s suicide attempt on The Walking Dead with little to no problem, but it took me quite a while to calm down from that scene because of how it was presented. It was framed as tragic and Bad, sure, but the lingering shot of the blood lapping between Lee’s breasts, the seductive “do it” whispers when Jim had the blade to his wrist… That scene didn’t reflect my experience. It didn’t CARE about my experience. That scene disappointed me after the excellent and nuanced way it handled Jim’s suicidal depression under hypnosis in Season Three, because it used something real people had really struggled with solely to create titillating drama for its fictional characters.

Okay, we’re good again. I’m not saying villains can’t be villains, or that dark themes and cruel actions can’t be portrayed, but we have to think about the reason we’re telling the story to begin with. If you hate Ed (and every other character) already for being immoral and a Bad Guy… Why are you watching the show?? If you write everybody off once they start down a villainous path, if you don’t empathize with them once they start taking actions you deem bad or wrong, if you’re not willing to suspend some disbelief and blur some lines to see through a character’s eyes, then who the hell are you left rooting for??

Again, if we weren’t supposed to care about Ed’s perspective, I think this would be a different issue. If I was sure the narrative would punish him for any Bad Guy shit he pulled, it would be another issue all over again. I’m thinking of Sal Maroni’s sexism in the Season One finale - that was GREAT. He was a bad guy being bad in a way that was going to hit home for female viewers, but nobody was rooting for him or thinking he was cool, and the climax of the scene was him getting shot in the face by somebody (a woman) whom we WERE supposed to think was cool.

It’s a badass scene with a sleazy character being sleazy and a violent character being violent, but it also conveys a message from the Real Live People running the show to the Real Live Audience: Sal Maroni is wrong. Sexism is wrong. Don’t do this in real life, don’t think you’re justified in pulling this shit, because it’s wrong.

Ed killing Kristen is another example I was really impressed with. Nobody pretends it’s anything but a horrific injustice, nobody on screen justifies it or wants it to have happened. Crucially, Ed himself knows it’s a tragedy. Seeing her killer regret what he’s done and continue to be haunted by it across seasons tells us that Kristen did nothing wrong, that it was a Bad Thing that should never have happened. Lee gets to voice that aloud, Jim gets to be disappointed and angry at the things Ed’s done. The viewers get a message completely separate from the act itself. The story goes out of its way to tell you that, even though you like Ed and care about him, there’s no excuse for his actions.

Who’s going to call him out for his anti-Semitic costume choices? Is Oswald going to bring it up if Ed is insensitive to his disability or mocks his mannerisms in a way that’s cruel to his sexuality? If it’s not addressed, then we have a problem. Because, while in-universe it might make perfect sense for Ed to be a total asshole, Ed isn’t real. And the people watching the show are. We tell stories for a reason, and if they result in anyone feeling justified in being more cruel or dehumanizing than they were before, then a mistake has been made.

…I’ve rambled for a long time here and I have no idea if I’ve made any sense.

Look, tl;dr: everybody watching Gotham has favorite characters, and all those characters have done terrible things. That’s OKAY. It’s natural to be fascinated and moved by the darker aspects of humanity. It’s healthy to stretch your empathy and your imagination. But at the end of the day, fiction becomes part of our reality. We carry things away with us. And stories have a responsibility to be cognizant of the messages and perspectives they’re supporting.

#Gotham #asks #I'm not mad at or judging you in any way anon please don't worry #thank you for the ask!!#it made me try to get my thoughts in order in a way I might not have otherwise #I also don't claim to speak for anyone but myself #and certainly not on behalf of any community #so I'd really appreciate it if somebody would tell me if I've fucked up and said anything insensitive here #(I'm not sure I got my feelings across well but I know I'd have put this ask off to infinity if I didn't just sit down and ANSWER it)#(and it deserved an answer)

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joonbird · 6 years

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Honeycomb

➭ “For your one year anniversary, your boyfriend Jungkook surprises you with a special gift- a vibrating love egg.”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: pwp, smut

wordcount: 5.2k

** warnings: use of sex toy, creampie, sex in a semi-public place, some major fluff at the end because I am a Soft Thot for jjk right now

“Jeon Jungkook, I hate you.”

There is a slight pause, and then the unmistakable sound of Jungkook’s laughter on the other end of the phone.

You can’t see the look on his face, but it’s not too difficult an image to conjure up, given that you’ve seen it so many times - Jungkook’s eyes creasing in the corners, nose scrunching in the middle, smile teased over his lips - the picture of a clueless guy who is utterly unaware of how annoyed you are with him.

A clueless guy who is also, you know, your boyfriend.

“You’re so cute when you’re mad, babe.”

You glower at the grey door in front of you, lips contorting into a frown.

“I’m being serious. Stop laughing-”

“It’s funny-”

“It’s not funny! I’m being serious! It won’t go in.”

Your voice quietens into a barely audible hiss on the last few words of your sentence, and you hear Jungkook let out a soft sound of surprise.

“Shit, really?”

“No Jungkook, it is in right now, I’m just stranding myself in the women’s bathroom for fun.” You huff out sarcastically, glowering at the object in your hand.

“Oh. That’s a little weird of you, but okay.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “Jungkook, I was being sarcastic.”

“How was I supposed to know!” Jungkook protests, and you grumble in irritation, internally cursing your boyfriend’s inability to detect sarcasm.

“Anyway, the point is- it won’t go in!. Look, I’m just gonna give up, maybe you can get a refund on it or something-”

“I can’t get a refund for it if it’s been used-”

“Trust me, it definitely isn’t being used right now!”

Your voice rises half an octave as you stare down miserably at the small object clutched in your palm.

It is a love egg - a small, silicone, rounded sex toy, one that you are trying to insert inside of yourself right now.

“Why won’t it go in? Are you not wet enough?”

Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your stream of thoughts, he is speaking at normal volume. Your face flushes with heat as you picture him standing outside of the women’s bathroom in the shopping mall, discussing whether you’re wet or not. You can also picture his answering reply - who cares if somebody hears?

It’s classic Jungkook not to care about the opinions of strangers. It’s also classic Jungkook to gift you something totally unexpected for your one year anniversary - and this love egg toy, complete with a red bow perched on top of it along with an attached note with a drawing of a wink face, was certainly unexpected.

You had been surprised by the gift - especially since you had insisted no presents - but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued by it.

You and Jungkook have been dating for a year now, but it still feels like no matter how much time has passed, no matter how many nights you had spent with his arms curled around you while a movie played on his laptop, or how many days you spent downing coffees and having study cram sessions at your college library - Jungkook always manages to find a way to surprise you.

When you had first laid eyes on him - he had been one of your classes - you had quickly written him off as someone to ignore. He always hung around with a group of guys that were boisterous and confident and brashly loud in that kind of way that hotshot college guys just are, but Jungkook had surprised you when you realised he was different. He was softer around the edges, he had a wide-eyed blink to his eyes and a sheepish smile that tugged on his lips when your eyes met his. He ordered these ridiculously sweet flavoured frappucinos at coffee shops, he always laughed during inappropriate moments, and he without fail, always got misty eyed during Ghibli films.

Somehow, the two of you tumbled into a friendship that was an almost thoughtless kind of easy - like he had always been there in your life, or maybe that he was always meant to be in your life. He was different, he was surprising, but still you had decided he was a good friend and nothing more. Then of course, Jungkook had surprised you by kissing you one evening a year and a half ago. It had been a kiss that was so long and slow and deep that your knees had gone weak, your heart ricocheting in your chest like a fucking jackhammer as you realised that Jeon Jungkook was quite possibly endgame.

“Babe?” Jungkook’s voice drags you out of your thoughts and you let out a tiny huff, glaring at the love egg.

“Yes, I’m not wet enough,” You whisper back, unable to keep the threads of frustration out of your words.

“Have you tried playing with yourself?”

“Yeah I have, but it’s just… It’s not happening-”

“Even if you think about me?” Jungkook’s voice dips suddenly into a lower pitch, his tone a touch more intense.

You hesitate.

“Yeah, I don’t kn-”

“Even if you think about what I did to you last night?"

A sudden flash of heat licks between your legs and you blink, swallowing.

"Last night?”

“Mm. You know, when I bent you over your roommate’s bed and fucked you until you came around my cock?”

Jungkook’s voice is as casual as ever and your breath stutters involuntarily at his words. Your mind flashes to the feeling of his hands gripping the small of your waist, his palm firmly pushing your back down, the sound of your body being slammed and fucked against his hips and his muscled thighs. You feel a shiver dart over your skin as you recall the words and the dirty, desperate moans that had tumbled out of your lips as Jungkook fucked you, rough and unforgiving, on top of your roommate’s bed of all places.

“You know, you looked so hot when you were cumming like that, your pretty ass and your pretty face in my hands.” Jungkook sighs softly and you feel your mouth go dry, a heavy, intense knocking beginning between your legs.

That’s another surprise of Jungkook’s that you had discovered - he had a thing for looking at your face while you came, he liked grasping your chin in his fingers and watching you cum, seeing each spectrum of bliss and urgency and neediness melt over your face like butter.

“We shouldn’t have done that on her bed…” You say, your voice struggling to stay composed. Your thighs quiver at the memory of it, and you ease a finger down, lightly swooping your slit.

You shudder as you make contact, because you are unmistakably wet.

Jungkook’s voice, lilting and deep and familiar, hums in response.

“Weren’t you the one who asked me to fuck you on every surface of your house?”

You are still holding the love egg. Experimentally, you place it at your entrance, pushing in delicately. Your slickness aids the small sex toy, and you gently guide it in and let out a soft, breathy moan.

“Jungkook, it- it’s in.”

As you walk out of the bathroom, your eyes fall on Jungkook, who is leaning against the opposite wall. You can feel the love egg inside of you - its presence is not uncomfortable but definitely noticeable, and the thought of it being inside of you has you a little bit on edge.

Jungkook glances up and smiles as you approach, face relaxed as he slings an arm around your shoulder, presses his lips to your cheek. To any onlooker, it would seem like a perfectly normal interaction between a couple, but what they don’t catch is the sentence Jungkook whispers in your ear.

“Just so you know… the thought of you having a toy inside of you right now is so completely, unbearably, fucking hot.”

He straightens, pulls away and smiles at you. You let out a small, shuddery breath, you’re still wet, turned on, and restless - the presence of the love egg inside of you is more a tease than a relief.

The egg, accompanied with the memory of Jungkook’s words, murmured and husky with arousal in your ear, heighten the steady knock between your legs as you walk through the mall. You turn to Jungkook, he has an easygoing smile on his face but you immediately catch the slightest of tension held in his brow, his tongue licking his bottom lip slowly, and you realise that as uncomfortably turned on as you are, Jungkook is as well.

Jungkook meets your gaze and you can tell that he’s reading your face too, reading the arousal written all over you. He smirks.

“I gotta buy some new gym stuff babe, do you mind if we do some shopping before heading off?”

You nod, feeling anticipation clench low in your belly as Jungkook and you walk towards the sports store. His arm is still draped your shoulder, as you walk, he chatters lightly about the new gym gear he needs, stopping every now and then to absently press a kiss to your hair, chuckling as he does so- but you can barely concentrate, too fixated on the egg pushed deep inside of you, and moreover, Jungkook’s other hand, which is deep in his pocket and likely wrapped around the love egg’s wireless remote controller.

You wonder fleetingly what it feels like to have the egg vibrate, biting your lip as you try and clamp down on the sensation of yearning that you are beginning to feel in your core for something. For stimulation, for touch, for anything other than this - you walking around a public shopping mall, your pussy being teased with every step you take.

You sneak a look at Jungkook who is gazing straight ahead, a small smirk playing on his lips, you nibble down on your bottom lip and fight the urge to ask him to turn the love egg on - just quickly, just so you can feel it.

You finally approach the sports store, and you separate as you enter, Jungkook heading straight toward a displayed neatly folded trackpants. You can feel your breath rush in a little sharper as you watch your boyfriend, impatient and restless, while Jungkkook leisurely takes his time browsing through the pants.

You can feel it inching over you, arousal and neediness laced n your bloodstream and thrumming through every part of your body.

“Jungkook-” His name rushes out, a fraction more strained than usual, and Jungkook glances up.

“Mm?”

An employee of the sportswear store brushes past and smiles welcomingly at at the two of you, you wonder if she can see it - the dilation of your pupils, the heaviness of your breathing, if she can somehow feel the knocking between your legs growing even more intense.

“Are you going to be much longer shopp-”

And then the egg starts vibrating.

You can feel it- the heavy buzz inside of you, the suddenness of it, and you can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes your lips, cutting your sentence short.

Jungkook looks up, eyes planted on you.

“Everything alright, babe?”

He is gazing right at you, the slightest of smirks toying on his lips as you nod tightly. The shop is busy today, other shoppers and store employees milling about, and you swallow, trying to hold your composure together. The egg keeps vibrating, right there, nestled in the slickness of your wet cunt.

“I think I like these, what do you think?” Jungkook lifts a pair grey trackpants and you shift in place. Fuck. The movement shifts the toy and you can feel it - the edge of the vibrating egg buzzing teasingly against your clit. You feel the anticipation start to sharpen, heat and arousal beginning to pour over your skin as you struggle to keep your face neutral.

“It looks like every other pair that you already own,” You force out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow, pouts a little. His eyes are still glued on you, one hand in his pocket. “Really? I dunno, I like them.”

The vibrations click into gear and get faster, deeper. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel your breath start to stutter in desperately, pleasure and desperation beginning to gather into a tangled, red knot in the pit of your belly. The vibrations are rumbly and deep and you can feel it throughout your core, you can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, controlling the remote, while other shoppers mill around you, utterly clueless.

Your hand curls into a fist, nails digging crescent moons in the flesh of your palm as you shift in place again, rub your thighs together, a desperate attempt to subtly try and feel more of it, more of the toy.

The pace of the toy switches suddenly, back to before - the slower, gentler vibration - and you feel a rush of frustration.

You glance at Jungkook, you think about his fingers on the remote, the fact that he is completely in control of this right now. Your boyfriend is completely in charge of the vibrations, the sex toy that you put inside of yourself, that you are having to fight the urge to not moan out in public, and you shudder with lust. It’s so unbelievably hot that it just heightens everything you are already feeling, and you can feel your eyes getting glassier, breathing heavier, you swallow.

You internally fight the urge to reach between your legs and touch your aching clit, desperate to give yourself some form of release from the still buzzing love egg.

Jungkook is watching you closely, you can see the confident smirk dancing over his features. The intensity of Jungkook’s stare just reminds you of last night, it’s the same hungry expression he had when you had begged him to fuck you everywhere and anywhere in your house. You recognise the intent flicker in his eyes, its one that Jungkook gets when he wants to claim you and fuck you.

“Are you sure everything’s okay? You’re breathing a bit funny.” Jungkook cocks his head to one side and gazes down at you, voice lush and teasing. With that you feel the love egg switching to that same fast, relentless speed from before.

A haze of lust settles over your vision and you barely keep yourself together, nodding wordlessly at Jungkook.

You feel it, the throb, the ache, the build, struggling to keep your face composed. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, fighting every urge you have to moan out loud.

Jungkook is still watching you, and the thought turns you on even more - that you’re about to orgasm right here in the middle of a store- and you feel your climax approaching, your breath sharpening, vision beginning to blur-

The vibration stops.

You freeze, your pulse racing violently with arousal and protest. Your eyes snaps up, Jungkook has already stepped closer to you, head dipping down to your ear.

“I think I’m going to try these on in the fitting rooms-” He still has the track pants over one shoulder, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. Your breath hitches in, heat pools in your belly as Jungkook’s eyes meet yours.

“Do you want to join me?”

The traffic in the store has picked up, and Jungkook expertly weaves his way through the crowd toward the changerooms along the back wall. Luckily, the fitting room area is relatively quiet- quiet enough for you to slip into one of the rooms with Jungkook.

The moment the door is locked, you press your body against Jungkook’s, folding into him, face tipped up to his. Your lips are parted, you feel feverish with want after being so close and having the vibrations stop.

“I need you,” You pant out, feeling that familiar rush of exhilaration and desire run through your veins like a deliciously potent cocktail. You don’t know what it is about Jungkook that gets you like this, frenzied and urgent and bold.

Jungkook fills you full of want so searing hot, that you feel like you may just fall apart at the seams if he doesn’t touch you, grab you, own you. You are brimming with it.

“Please baby,” You beg, your voice softening to a whisper, “Please touch me.”

Jungkook lets out a soft moan at your words, his lips colliding with yours in a deep, messy kiss. Jungkook’s hand rakes through your hair before his fingers settle at the nape of your neck, his other hand gripping firm on your hip, his tongue grazing over yours.

A heady rush of excitement dusts over your skin, you moan into his kisses, a sound that is just breaking apart enough to sound like a purr. You hear a sound like a gasp at the back of Jungkook’s throat, he pulls away from you to kiss down your neck. His tongue laps over each nip and kiss he places against your sensitive skin, and you can feel it buzzing through your body like a current. How badly you want it, want him, the excitement from hearing people outside the thin door of the changing room, the egg that is still buried inside of your pussy, and most of all Jungkook, who is letting out soft growls into the shell of your ear.

You can feel your body start to shake in anticipation as Jungkook grabs your hips and flips you over, instinctively your palms splay out against the mirror of the small, narrow fitting room. Your eyes rake over the reflection that greets you - your eyes dilated and heavy lidded, the whimpers from your lips strained as to not make too much noise, they are almost even more erotic sounding that way.

Your gaze trails back to Jungkook standing behind you, tugging your jeans down carefully. You can see under his black tee the jut of his collarbones as he pulls your pants off, the flex of his shoulders. Jungkook’s jaw is clenched, and you can tell that he too, is only moments away from breaking apart with need.

You are aching as Jungkook reaches between your legs and pulls out the small love egg. You let out a whine when it’s out, watching in the mirror as Jungkook looks down at it.

it’s silicone surface is completely slick with your wetness, and you stare as Jungkook, eyes intent on you in the mirror, presses his tongue against the toy and tastes you in one clean lick.

A fresh shudder of lust eases it’s way through your body as you watch, it takes all of your resolve not to beg Jungkook to fuck you, to not moan, or make any sound. You stare, transfixed, as Jungkook grabs the remote from his pocket and turns the toy back on.

Now that it is out of you, you can hear it - the buzz, loud enough that somebody in the next fitting room could possibly hear it, but frankly, you don’t care. The toy, slickened from Jungkook’s tongue and your wetness, presses firmly against your swollen clit.

The sudden pressure makes your hips jerk compulsively, you bite back a cry of pleasure and Jungkook immediately shifts the egg, circling it around your clit in slow, teasing circles. Your thighs are tensed, your body like a coil, desperate for release. Each stroke of the toy against your clit has your body shaking, and just when you think you’re closer, the toy pulls away and you feel the ebbs of pleasure fading.

Jungkook is drawing it out, taking you to a point of even darker need, to the point where you almost feel furious with it.

Jungkook’s body is now crooked on top of yours, you can feel his lips nibbling and kissing around your ear and your neck neck, the tip of his hard cock brushing against your entrance. He is hard, you can feel that the tip of his cock is moist with precum, and you feel a full-body shudder flood through your body.

Your eyes flutter open, you stare at your reflection - you and Jungkook, bodies pressed together, his hand clutching the small egg at your clit, his face buried in the side of your neck. His voice rasps out against your ear, a growl of your name, you whimper in response, a “Please” that is pure unadulterated begging. It is a thready, desperate pleading with for him to fuck you.

Jungkook moans and obliges, pushing himself inside of you.

Heat sears through your entire body, it feels like you are breathing a sigh of contentment as you feel Jungkook stretching you. You are melting against it, the feeling of him pushing deeper until the entirety of his length is buried deep inside of your walls.

You hear him stutter out a groan, mutter out a broken, “Fuck”.

You want him everywhere, filling you whole, you want his hands on every inch of your body, his mouth canvassing your skin. You are so full of a needy heat for him that you arch your back, press yourself deeper against his cock until you hear it, the possessive growl at the back of Jungkook’s throat, and then he starts sliding in and out of you.

Jungkook isn’t slow or gentle, he fucks you hard, full thrusts that have you squeezing your eyes shut, biting down on your forearm as to not let out the screams that you so desperately want to. Your palms are pressed against the cool surface of the mirror, you are soaked in it, a gnawing anticipation, as Jungkook buries his cock deeper and deeper inside of you with every snap of his hips against yours.

You can feel the tremble of his thighs, his voice, throaty and husky and murmuring out your name n your ear like its a mantra.

Then, Jungkook, like he’s just now remembering he still has it clutched in his hand - presses the vibrating love egg directly against the hood of your clit.

It’s like a crack of heat, a whip of lust. You feel your back arch and your hips press back harder to feel more of Jungkook’s cock, to feel more of the vibrating, slick silicone he is pressing against you. It’s an overload to your senses, and you feel pleasure start to crawl over your skin, a whimper falls from your lips, “Jungkook oh my God."

You feel faint almost, it’s so intense - the vibrations deep and rumbly against your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure and a throbbing, rough lust through your body.

You hone your focus onto the rhythmic push of Jungkook’s cock deep inside of you, his hands on your hips. Just when you think you are about to fall to pieces, Jungkook reaches up and winds his fist in your hair.

Jungkook’s thrusts are steady and unwavering even though you can tell in the patchiness of his breathing that he’s close. The feeling of his fingers pulling on your hair, the faint sting in your scalp, has you toppling over the edge.

Your chest tightens, your cunt tightens, and you feel it cresting over you. You’re close now, pleasure on the brink of washing over every inch of your body until you feel nothing but satisfaction.

Jungkook drops the love egg, it clatters to the floor, still vibrating. His fingers catch your chin and he tilts your face up. Your eyes flutter open, you whimper as you see it- Jungkook, one hand in your hair, the other on your chin, eyes intent on your face like you’re the only thing he can see, the only thing he wants to see.

And then you fall apart around the next thrust of his cock.

Heat and intensity prickles over you in waves, and your body shakes as Jungkook’s palm covers your mouth. You bite down on his palm in an attempt to suppress your loud orgasm as you feel pleasure spike over your entire body.

You feel Jungkook tense, he lets out a low "Fuck babe I’m gonna-” and his body jerks. You feel his cock throb as he cums deep inside of you, filling you up with his seed.

Your chest heaves out with each breath you take, your eyes gloss over. The glowing, euphoric, high seeps over you and into every corner of your being,

It is slow and delicious and lingering, like the taste of sweet, addictive honeycomb.

Your breathing slows until it is thick and lazy and happy. Jungkook’s arms are wrapped around your waist and for a moment the two of you stand there, breaths evening out, a soft hazy air of satisfaction settling between the space held between your bodies. You feel blIssed out, every piece of tension inside of you is unravelling, toes uncurling and tenderness floating over your skin.

Jungkook pulls out of you and you wince, pulling up your jeans and zipping them up as Jungkook bends and picks up the still vibrating love egg, switching it off before he pulls up his pants.

You are going to have Jungkook’s cum dripping out of you all day, that is, if he doesn’t fuck it deeper inside of you later - a likely possibility given the fact that even now, sated and warm and glowing, you still want more of your boyfriend, somehow.

jungkook slips the egg into his pocket, steps towards you and wraps you into his arms in one lazy, boyish motion as his lips catch your temple and then the corner of your mouth. Again and again, clumsy, sweet, tender kisses - he pulls back and kisses your eyelids, the tip of your nose, until you are laughing, soft giggles that you try and conceal.

You can hear the commotion outside of the fitting room, voices of shoppers nod workers and your cheeks flush with heat at the possibility of any of them hearing you and Jungkook, or worse, seeing the egg when it had dropped to the floor.

Jungkook, like he’s reading your mind, scoops up the abandoned track pants.

“I should probably buy these,” He say sheepishly.

You bury your face in his neck and laugh.

“I’ll buy them for you. For an anniversary present.”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush pink, “So about that…” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a thick envelope. “The love egg thingo was only part one of your present, actually. This is part two.”

You blink down at it. “Part two?” You look up accusingly, “We said no presents!”

Jungkook just shrugs.

“Jungkook! I didn’t get you anything-”

“Didn’t you say you were gonna get those trackpants?”

Jungkook points to the track pants which once again, have been abandoned on the floor.

“That doesn’t count, it’s hardly a present,” You protest feebly and Jungkook props his hands on his hips, face serious.

“It definitely counts, I love trackpants y’know. They’re my favourite kind of pant."

You suppress a laugh and shake your head, letting out a petulant ”Jungkook,“ as you accept the envelope in Jungkook’s hands, turning it over. It has nothing written on the front and back, and it’s surprisingly thick.

"Open it.”

You open the envelope and pull it open.

Inside are several different folded squares of paper, all different colours - a forest green, muted daisy yellow, terracotta red. You pull one out, a rosy pink slip of paper, to see Jungkook’s handwriting scrawled on the front.

Read this if we get into an argument.

You pull out another, robin egg blue paper, to see written on the front, Read this if you’re having a shit day.

A third piece of paper, cloudy grey, and written on the front - for when Mercury goes into retrograde, whenever that is. I know you’re into that stuff.

“Jungkook…” Your voice trails off questioningly and Jungkook clears his throat.

“They’re all letters I wrote for you. For uh, all kinds of different occasions and moods."

You don’t speak, staring down at the envelope and feeling your throat get a little tighter, your breath rush in a touch sharper, eyes growing wide.

"Is it… Is it okay?” You glance up, Jungkook has a hand at the nape of his neck, a blush tinging his cheeks. “I know, it’s a bit cheesy but I dunno, the idea just came to me. And I’m not that good with words and stuff so they’re not all like full on letters okay, there’s some drawings and stuff like that-”

“Jungkook.”

“-and like, I really wanted to get you a present present but the shipping costs for the love egg were higher than expected. Shipping sucks, what’s a guy gotta do to get a good quality sex egg around here? Although I did earn enough loyalty points to get a free Hello Kitty dildo and I was gonna gift that to you too but then Tae stole it, the bastard-”

“Jungkook.”

“And he took all these dumbass Snapchats with it and by that point it just didn’t seem like a very romantic gift idea-”

“Jungkook."

Finally, your boyfriend looks up at the sound of your voice which is a little sterner, cutting straight into his rambling.

"Yeah?”

You soften, stepping closer into his arms, hearing the soft exhale that escapes from his lips as his arms instinctively tighten around you, holding you close to him.

“I love you.”

Jungkook stills, his eyes widen. He pulls you properly into his arms, encircling you into his body, lips pressing to your forehead.

“I love you so much, you know that?”

His voice is tender and you hum in response, looping your arms around his waist. Jungkook keeps pecking the top of your head, pressing his lips to the crown of your hair in soft, sweet kisses.

You think about him- Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend of a year, the boy who grants you earth shattering orgasms and brings out a side to you that you never knew existed, the boy who falls asleep mid anime marathons, the boy who is fearless and bright and sweet and surprising. The boy who stuffed an envelope full of love notes just for you, and gifted you a vibrating love egg.

You squeeze Jungkook a little harder, feel your heart thump a little faster and tell yourself not to let him go.

“This would probably be more romantic if it wasn’t in the middle of an sport store fitting room,” Jungkook muses suddenly.

“Somehow, it feels very us for this to be happening here.” You comment wryly, and Jungkook shrugs.

“True. I guess it’s time for us to get out of here, hey? We gotta do it stealth-like, okay? I like this store and I wanna come back. I’ll go first and if the coast is clear, we’ll walk out of here all chill, no big deal. Love egg, whomst? Moi? You? No way. Sound like a plan?"

Jungkook has a very serious look on his face, you stifle a giggle and nod in agreement. Jungkook lifts his fist and you bump yours against it.

"You know, you’re full of surprises, Jeon Jungkook.” You sigh, shaking your head and Jungkook just grins at you.

“The good kind?”

You smile.

“Uh huh.”

The sweetest kind.

amynote: I wrote this in one go on my iPad on the long train ride yesterday, so I’m sorry if it’s a bit rushed or full of typos!! I may be on hiatus but my Jungkook feels are certainly not, let me tell you that much

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader

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