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guilty-pleasures21 · 1 month

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The perfect guy

I have decided to follow a Monday/Thursday schedule, friends. Note: the list of chapters currently released only includes the ones I've already written and drafted as posts. I still have a few more coming, so fret not my thirsty friends!

Also, I hope everyone has an easy week 🥰.

The project

The new guy

The lie

The new body

The hospital

The first time

The suit

The virus

The escape

Warnings: None

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Margo strode past the grumpy, dark-haired scientist hunched over his desk. “New girl’s coming tomorrow.”

Eddie grunted in acknowledgement of her pointless statement: he didn’t need someone else to come and mess up all the research he’d already done. No, what he really needed was a living test subject - someone into whom he could the genetic sequences he'd been working on in order to study their effects on humans. Margo stepped back to his bench and placed a hand on her hip.

“I hope this isn’t the attitude you’ll be giving her on her first day.” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned closer to him, her eyes narrowing and her frown curling up at the ends into a wicked smile. “Save it for the third day.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and waved her away, too focused on mixing his PCR reagents together. He’d have to make sure to keep this new girl far, far away from his research.

“And they’ll let me stay with you?” Miguel asked quickly, the speed of his response making up for the lack of hopefulness in his tone. It wasn't his fault he didn't know what it felt like to hope though. X scrolled through the contract again.

“Yup!” she confirmed. “I made sure they put that in there.”

“But …” Miguel paused, running through the list of topics he'd noted down that she didn't like talking about. He couldn't find what he wanted to ask anywhere on it, so he pressed on. “Would you still want me? If I had powers like that?”

He was referring to the arachnid powers that the military wanted to encode into his future human body: one of the stipulations they’d included in exchange for their support with her research. But it didn't matter to her - nothing mattered as long as she got to see him, to touch him, to hold him tight and inhale the scent of him, whatever it would be. She grinned at the thought. “Of course! The powers are just … They don’t take anything away from you. You’re still you.”

Miguel smiled back at her, sparking at her response. “Have you signed it?”

X snickered at his enthusiasm. “No: I wanted to check with you first. You’ve run all the possibilities?”

Miguel took a moment to run through the contract again.

“You’ll own me, but they’ll own all your research,” he summarised. “That means that they could make thousands of other people just like me if it works.” X's stomach curdled at the thought. She knew it was a great risk, giving the scarily well-funded military the opportunity to build their own ‘super soldiers’ but … she wanted to be selfish.

“We can deal with that when we come to it,” X decided finally, not wanting to dampen her excitement at finally being able to be with Miguel. “Maybe you can just pretend to get sick or something?”

Miguel nodded eagerly in agreement.

“Okay.” Whatever it took to be with her, he’d do it. “I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you, mi amor. Te-” ‘Te amo, querida,’ he wanted to tell her. But he couldn’t tell her that because he didn’t know what it actually meant to love someone. And she’d always wave him off whenever he’d tried to say it before, dismissing him with a non-committal hum that had his processing speed slowing down. So he’d just stopped saying it all together.

She smiled at how easily he'd always say it. He’d always tell her he loved her with such conviction that she could almost believe it was true. But she was terrified to let herself believe it until he was a real human being upon whom she could shower all her love and be loved in return.

“I …” She swallowed the words down, still unable to say it, not yet. “I want you too, Miguel.” Her lips curled at the ends at the thought and he felt his code start to speed up again.

“When do you start?” he asked, impatient for the day he'd finally be able to see her smile without the screen coming in the way.

“As soon as I sign the contract,” she replied, uncapping her stylus and holding it over the tablet. “So probably tomorrow.”

“Scan it once you’re done - I’ll send it over immediately.” His words came out faster than normal and X laughed at his eagerness.

“No blackouts, Miguel,” she warned him, signing her name on the contract and promising the research she’d spent a lifetime working on to the military. Miguel smiled, sparking at the happiness on her face.

“No blackouts, querida.”

“And this is Eddie,” Margo introduced, stopping at his bench with their new recruit, “the Spiderman nerd you’ll be stuck with for the next few years.” Eddie snorted as he adjusted the focus on his microscope.

“Let’s see how she survives the next few days,” he challenged, unimpressed. Then he scowled at Margo's insult. “And I am not a ‘Spiderman nerd’.” He turned to shoot her a glare, but then his gaze lands on the new girl and he paused. She was pretty - in a cute way. Long eyelashes, perfectly almond-shaped eyes, rosy lips. And she had a nice figure too, if he had any time outside of his research to think about that sort of thing. X's eyes widened with awe as she met his gaze.

“You’re the one who figured out how to incorporate the arachnid DNA into human DNA?” They'd allowed her access to all their confidential files once she’d sent over the signed contract and she'd spent almost the entire night going over it with Miguel. “Okay, so, can I go over the web-shooters with you? So, we’ll need a secretory organ to make those work, right? Do you think we could make it open up beneath his fingernails or something? I don’t want him to be exposed to the outside environment so close to his blood vessels.” She pulled out the chair beside him and took a seat, waiting for his response as he digested her words.

“Uh, sure,” he replied, a little talen aback by her enthusiasm. Her first day and she already wanted to jump right into it? He turned to face her, considering all the alternatives himself. “But then wouldn’t his fingernails stop the webs from shooting out?”

X stopped to think about it, her head tilting to the side and her lips pursing in a way that made his chest start to warm.

“Hmm, that makes sense. What about …” She grabbed a nearby piece of paper to start jotting down all their ideas, and he wondered if maybe they would get along after all.

Tags: @jadeloverxd

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miscelunaaa · 2 years

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cuffing szn 4 | knj

pairing: fbi agent!namjoon x soft-bodied/plus-sized female reader

genre: strangers to lovers, an attempt at crack??, little bit of angst, smut

summary: All Namjoon wants is some peace and quiet after a long, shitty day at work. Thanks to a party upstairs and Jungkook’s sticky fingers, he’s stuck with you instead.

rating: 18+ for weighty topics and explicit sexual content

word count: 5.7k

warnings: Swearing, always. Safe handling of a firearm. Jungkook being a little chaotic nosy. References to legal alcohol consumption. There’s a lot here that’s not really true to life but the biggest lie is Jungkook texting someone and responding to their reply ☠️ Explicit sexual content in the form of: Soft Dom Namjoon. Reader’s got a thing for his big body, so like size kink I guess kind of but without mentions of any size difference between them at all. Lots of mentions of stretch marks and softness :). Mild body insecurity. A MOMENT OF DUMBIFICATION??? BUT LIKE REALLY MILD???? Check-ins again help. Nipple play. Lots of light biting. Light kink negotiation? Pet names (baby, baby girl). Daddy kink. Light begging. Dirty talk. Oral sex, female receiving. Light edging. More check-ins. Big Dick!Namjoon. Unprotected sex with other birth control in place (IUD). Change in sex positions. Modified doggy-style. Fingie sucking. Light degradation (use of the word “slut” twice? and “cocksleeve” once). Praise kink. Creampie. Aftercare, some light cathartic crying, and cuddles!

notes: HA. HAHAHA. ME?? STICK TO A SCHEDULE???? SDJKFJASKFJ PLS. Alright y’all, happy comeback. I’m feeling better and my PCR was negative so fuck it, let’s go, let’s finish this shit out strong!! I hope y’all like it, let me know what you think :) thank you so much for reading and joining me on this journey.

my masterlist | my disclaimers | read on ao3 | soft-bodied reader essay

previous | series masterlist

Namjoon’s apartment feels different from last time. Instead of bending down to help you take off your boots, you can just kick off your slip-ons. Instead of a jacket thrown over the back of the couch, it’s still on his tall frame. There’s nothing waiting to be put away in the kitchen, no phantom smells of a meal made. Above all, it’s quiet. Taehyung and Jungkook haven’t turned their music back up yet.

“Hey, wait, do you need to eat something? You only just got home right?” you ask, right as he’s shrugging off his suit jacket.

As he loosens his tie, you feel his eyes running up and down the lines of your body. You can’t imagine you’re much of a sight in your ratty sweatpants and old hoodie, but his gaze doesn’t seem to notice the difference between this outfit and the last.

“Not really hungry right now.”

Right. Not, at least, in the way one might think.

You awkwardly stand by as he takes off his shoes. The difference in the amount of clothes between the two of your is honestly amusing. You realize you’re starring when he suddenly shifts before, placing a finger beneath your chin and turning your face to his.

If looks could start fires, you’d be ablaze.

He’s attractive, that much is obvious for you. He’d been attractive at Hoseok and Jin’s bachelor party, but in that cute, grumpy way that comes so easily to him. This look, however, is more intense even than the ones he gave you the morning after. All of the emotions you’ve felt over the past few weeks are mirrored in his gaze. Namjoon’s already made it clear with his words but this look shows you that he wants you as much as you want him.

You step into him to close the gap, letting your lips fall upon his. Immediately, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close as he tilts his head for a closer fit to your mouth. When his tongue begins to brush against yours, you wonder if he can taste the lemonade your drank upstairs. At least, you hope it’s the lemonade, and not the pizza.

“Bedroom. Now,” he mouths against you, and you don’t have it within you to hide your enthusiasm as you take his hand and follow.

He’s barely flipped on the light before he’s tossing his suit jacked to the side. With care, he takes his gun from this shoulder holster and places it in his safe. By the time he’s run through the little lock/unlock routine, you’re already sitting on his bed with your legs crossed, watching him move. He finally takes his tie off all the way and shrugs off his shoulder holster, his back to you. Watching the fabric of his shirt stretch and wrinkle over the muscular expanse of his back could entertain you for hours.

He stops before joining you, his hands clenched at his sides. He chews on his lip.

“So last time, you said you didn’t do things like this much, and uh, I don’t know if I actually mentioned it, but I don’t do this much either.”

“I figured. You actually checked the date on the condom.”

“That’s something that should be done every time but point taken.”

For a moment, he falls silent, staring at a point in space that you can’t locate.

“Namjoon, why’d you bring this up?”

His eyes squinch closed. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I don’t want to do this if there’s not a chance to see you again.”

You blink.

“Okay. I want to see you again too. I wasn’t shitting you at the party, you know. I do think you’re interesting.” Your voice sounds more even than you expected it to. You thought the fluttering of your heart in your chest would shake the words more, but you’ve managed to mask it well.

Namjoon softens, his shoulders relaxing and his hands coming loose. He runs a hand through his dark hair.

“Really?”

“We’ve been thinking about each other for weeks,” you say softly. “I’m not in the business of saying things or doing things I don’t mean.”

He’s silent for a moment, before he sits down at the edge of the bed, just close enough for you to feel the heat coming off his body.

“Great. We should talk more tomorrow. Gotta make up for that missed blind date,” he teases.

“I mean there’s always a chance you might hate me, or that I’ll hate you. Maybe you’re like, I don’t know, a cat person and I’m a dog person and it just won’t work. Maybe—"

“Babe.”

Your spine tingles. He’s already started calling you pet names again. It feels like he’s beginning to slip into a role, or a headspace of some kind. It’s thrilling.

“Y-yeah?”

“Do you want this?”

His eyes are dark, he’s doing that thing where his eyes seem half-closed even as he looks at you intently. That hooded look; dragon eyes, some people call them. Call them whatever, but the effect is powerful. You feel wanted and you love it.

“Please. More than anything.”

“Then take off your clothes, I want to see you. We can figure all the other shit out later.”

Your breath hitches with the command, but somehow you find it in you to sit up and take off your hoodie, pausing to watch Namjoon stand as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. It’s hypnotizing to watch his fingers work the buttons. When he tosses it aside, he reveals the tight undershirt he’s been wearing.

To your delight (and somehow, dismay; you’re waiting for him to show some physical flaw), he’s still big, even under the dress shirt. You’ve not seen each other naked before, so each layer that comes off leaves you more enticed than the last. The idea of feeling his warm skin against yours makes your body throb.

As Namjoon begins to untuck his dress shirt, he clears his throat, quirking an eyebrow.

You look down. Right. Hoodie needs to come off. The weight of his potential disappointment turns your fingers to lead. He’s felt what you feel like beneath your clothes before, and there’s no way a big, tall guy like him doesn’t have stretch marks. He saw some of yours last time, but still it feels strange. It’s been a while and this is different than last time. It’s more intimate. It’s more intense.

“What, do you need help?”

A shiver runs down your spine, just strong enough that you’re sure he saw you tremble. The visceral reaction you have to his teasing tone is … well, it’s a lot, and it’s unexpected. Even more unexpected is the way you look at him; you can feel yourself slip into the role, lips parted, leaning into the moment. With the smallest, slightest pout you can muster, you nod, and say:

“Please.”

He steps over to the bed, leaning forward to enclose you between his arms. The mattress dips as he lets his weight settle on either side of you. You bite your lip. Every nerve ending in your body is buzzing with excitement. What’s next?

“Please, what, baby girl?”

Fuck. Fuuuuck.

“Please, help me …” The title is on the tip of your tongue, but you never finish your plea the way you want to.

Namjoon’s eyes flutter closed for a moment. The knot in his throat bobs as he swallows.

“Why is that so hot?” he mutters.

“I don’t know,” you reply. The deja vu hits you like a little wave lapping at your ankles, instead of sweeping you away. It seems you’re both into things that a lot of people aren’t. “Are you—are you into what I think you’re into? Oh my god—were you into it at the party when they called you a daddy?”

When Namjoon finally looks at you again, his nose is wrinkled into a grimace. “It’s weird, isn’t it? I came on too strong.”

“No.” You let your hand come up to cup his face. His face relaxes with the contact, but he’s still pouting even as you try to reassure him. “Maybe for other people, but not for me.”

This moment feels so strange. It’s just like last time, but you’re the one trying to ease the other’s mind. You’re so different and yet so alike.

“I—“ he starts, before sighing and shuffling to sit on the bed next to you. “I have a hard time letting myself be vulnerable. This is one of those things. Last time I thought it was just going to be one and done, so I never even dreamed of bringing it up, but then I kept liking you. We kept liking each other, and now you’re here.” He runs a hand over his face. “And the way you looked at me when I asked if you needed help …”

“It’s really okay, I promise. I like it too. And, I don’t know. You’re not actually a parent or old enough to be my dad or anything so it’s not weird?” This moment feels so strange, though. You both have to talk yourselves through this.

“No weirder than it needs to be, at least.”

“Right. And I promise I liked it. Also, kind of a different topic,” you pause, biting your lip. “I like the fact that we check in with each other so much, like I’ve never had that in a romantic relationship.” Namjoon smiles when he hears this, and your heart flutters. “That said, I’m really ready to get dicked down by your huge—"

His mouth tightens into a line, making a muscle in his jaw twitch. There may be no better way to shut you up, and if there is, you’ll have to find it together. Finally, he says, “Point taken. You know the traffic light system?”

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for keep going?”

“Great, use that if there’s something you don’t like or don’t want to do at any point in time. Not that we’re getting too weird, but just in case.”

Namjoon doesn’t hesitate before leaning over to press a quick kiss to your lips. Before you can reach for him, he’s pulling back, reaching for the elastic hem of your hoodie. As his palms, warm and rough, brush against the skin of your middle, you forget why you were nervous in the first place.

“Time to take this off,” he rasps in your ear as he helps push the garment up. As the cool air of the bedroom hits your skin, you shiver. You let yourself fall back as you lift your hips to start pushing down your sweats. Namjoon sits up and away, and then you hear a rustling and suddenly, he’s back at your side, now shirtless. You freeze.

“What?” he smirks. You’ve not even managed to get your pants halfway down your thighs, but whatever he can see is nothing compared to what you can see of him. He looks so good you want to hide in a hole, but you also have the urge to run your tongue over every inch you see. You’re not even sure which would be less awkward, so instead you just stare.

Every inch of him is solid muscle covered in warm, resplendent skin. Bulging pectorals, faintly defined abdominals, biceps, triceps, muscles you forgot the name of after high school anatomy … all wrought carefully and presented to you in one big, beautiful package. You can’t get enough, but it’s also too much, making your stomach turn with nerves. You can’t even look at his face with those fucking dimples without feeling flustered. He’s handsome and built and fuck he’s kind on top of all that and you’re suddenly panicking. You pull your pants back up to your waist and cover your face with your hands with a groan.

“Do … you want me to put the shirt back on?” Namjoon laughs. It’s a tease but you’re half tempted to answer it anyway. He settles into his elbow on his side, and hooks his other arm around your waist, trying to pull you closer. A hand cups your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. He feels so warm against you, you almost wonder if he’s feverish. “Why are you being so shy, baby?”

“You’re just really pretty,” you murmur. You feel him tense beside you, but he says nothing. It takes a moment, but you finally let your hands fall away from your face.

Namjoon’s ears are the slightest pink. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek as his eyes roam your face. Before you know it, he’s leaning forward, tilting your chin up to his face to kiss you. Better to hide his shyness, you suppose, than talk about it any longer.

The temperature in the room is beginning to rise, or maybe that’s just the feeling of him pressing his warm body into yours. His fingers trace along your jaw and down the column of your throat. You moan into his mouth as they skate over the tight fabric of your bra. Two layers of soft mesh make it easy to see exactly where he wants to tease. His tongue slips against yours as he finds a nipple and teases it with his fingernail.

“This have a clasp or is it like a sports bra?” he murmurs, full lips brushing against yours as he listens to your breathing falter.

“Pull off like a sports bra.”

He pulls away, taking your lower lip in his teeth to nip at you as he goes. His eyes close in pleasure at the sound of your whine. Your hands meet his as you cross them to pull your bra off just as he helps push it up. Immediately, your nipples tighten in the cool air, the flesh of your breasts relaxing only to pucker as they’re freed from the confines of the undergarment.

The garment is tossed away. Namjoon dips his head to suck at your breast, a hand finding its way to the other to roll the nipple between his fingers. Heat crawls along your nerves, the synapses singing with whatever it is that’s making you feel desired. Without thinking, you bring up a hand to play with the hair at the base of his skull. It’s soft, dense, and feels good against your palm. You can’t help but grasp at the longer strands and pull.

Namjoon groans into your breast, eyes flashing to yours as he suddenly nips you. You moan, back arching to press closer to him.

“Watch it, baby girl. Let daddy do what he wants.”

You thought wanting to melt down the stairs earlier was a big feeling, but this … this is fucking unreal. You’ve never wanted a man to destroy you before; you’re absolutely ready to let him do whatever the fuck he wants to you. The level of trust you have in him borders on obscene. You can’t even formulate words; instead of responding with a “yes, daddy,” you just whimper instead.

He switches nipples, moving to suck at the other, trailing his tongue over your skin as he goes. He settles between your legs again, and you feel him flinch as his hips meet the mattress. He must be incredibly hard; the very idea makes you feel delirious with need. You want him inside you, fucking you into oblivion.

“Please, I want you inside me,” you plead.

Namjoon hums, “Doesn’t sound like you want it that bad.” He glances at you as he nips again, enraptured by the way your whole body leans into the instant in which pain and pleasure mix. This is torturous, and he knows it, and you know he doesn’t care.

On impulse, you pull at his hair again, a little harder this time. The guttural moan he lets out goes straight to your core. You watch with bated breath as he props himself up and glares down at you.

“Please, daddy, I want you,” you breathe.

He says nothing as he pushes off the mattress and stands. You sit up on your elbows, watching to see where he goes, but he doesn’t move away. All you can focus on is the bulge at the front of his pants. Suddenly, he’s kneeling at the edge, and reaching forward for your hips. The squeak you let out as he pulls you to the edge of the bed is undignified, yes, but it makes him smile.

“Doing alright? What’s your color?” he asks, now on his knees, his hands pausing at the waistband of your sweatpants.

“Yeah. All good. Green. Really, really green,” you say, watching the way his upper arm muscles bulge and flex as he pulls the sweats and your underwear off your legs. He tosses them somewhere like he’s done with the rest of your clothes; finding it all later will be more than worth the small hassle.

“Still up to date on your screenings?”

“Yes. You’re the last person I was with. Still have an IUD and everything.”

“Great, same—uh, not the IUD though, can’t really get my hand pregnant, you know?”

The laughter bubbles up in your throat and then dies as you feel Namjoon’s tongue slip into your folds. “F-fuck.”

“Such a dirty mouth,” he murmurs between licks. He’s managed to settle right back into his dominant persona. “Need to work on your behavior at some point.”

Whereas last time he’d gone all in right from the start, this time he’s more of a tease, more infuriatingly gentle. He’s stoking a fire, rather than starting it. His tongue is gentle against your soft heat, his lips only just brushing against the most sensitive parts of you. Instead of flat, rough licks against your clit, it’s as if he’s just barely stroking it with the tip of his tongue.

“P-please …” you whine, trying to rut onto his face. You’re desperate. You need more.

He ignores you, but his grip tightens on your thighs. Is he into begging? The thought of begging him to fuck you makes your head swim as your cunt clenches around nothing. What’s a bit of begging when you want it so badly?

“Daddy, please, I need more.” You just want him inside you. You want that big cock inside your cunt, making you scream. You want it so much that it’s become a need so base you’d do almost anything.

He abruptly sucks on your clit and pulls off with a pop, the sudden burst of sensation making you twitch and cry out. You shudder as he runs a finger through your warmth and hums.

“Seems like you’re wet enough, sweetheart, want to try this without a condom?”

“Please, please, I need you.” You sound almost pitiful. Fuck it, you are pitiful. You should be ashamed but no, you’re just filled with even more want, more desire for him. May as well lay it on thick to drive the point home, you’re a fucking mess at this point either way. “Want your cock, daddy.”

You hear Namjoon’s breath catch before he stands and reaches for a pillow. He has you move back a bit from the edge and lift your hips so he can place it beneath them. You watch as he starts to slowly unbutton his trousers, the muscles of his abdomen tight as his hands brush over his bulge with the lowering of the zipper.

“Touch yourself, baby. I want to see how you like it.”

You trail your hand down your body, over the swell of your stomach to put your fingertips to your clit, tracing the bud just like you like it. Your breath catches in your throat as Namjoon’s eyes move up and down your figure, taking in every stretch mark, every bead of sweat, every sweet undulation of your flesh. There it is again; that look of unbridled hunger appears once more as he finally pushes down his pants and boxer-briefs.

He really is just big all over, isn’t he?

He reaches for your legs, looking intently at how you’re moving your fingers before pressing his own to you. He mimics the movement with one hand while his other finds his cock, and pumps it a few times. He closes his eyes and sighs sinfully, just enjoying the feeling of skin on skin; the very sight of him stroking his own length makes you tighten around nothing.

“You ready to take daddy’s cock, gonna be a good girl for me?”

Your reply is scarcely more than a whined “yes,” but he nods and starts to line himself up, spreading his legs a little to get the elevation right. He lifts one of your legs and extends it, laying it across his torso, but without bending it back into you. The position helps you open up, even just the little, and you relish the way his fingers sink into your flesh

He’d only been inside of you for a second last time. You haven’t even come yet, so you’re not even at your tightest, but he still feels so big that it’s almost too much. Your entire body tenses as he presses carefully into you using those same small thrusts as he had before, but it’s made even more intense by his fingers still rubbing at your clit.

“Relax, breathe,” he groans, voice low and broken as he tries to stay calm. It sounds like he’s coaching himself, as well as you. “Color?”

“Green,” you respond, breathless. Your hands are tangled in the bed spread at either side of you, desperate for any sensation that might keep you grounded. He’s fitted so tightly within you, the stretch overwhelming your senses. “S-so big, but green.”

“I know. Fit me like a glove, baby girl.” His teeth are gritted, sweat starting to bead at his chest and neck.

Once he’s fully sheathed, he starts carefully flexing his hips to thrust. Every bump and ridge on his cock rubs against your heat, sending you higher and higher. Your moans become airy and desperate. All the while, his fingers are pressing into your clit, using the same patterns he’d watched you use. The mixture of sensations is heady. You can hear the sound of your cunt getting wetter as he works his length within you, and he groans in response to every keen and whimper you make. He’s more vocal than anyone else you’ve been with, more talkative too. You fucking love it.

“Making me feel so good, getting tighter like that,” he moans, his hips stuttering as it gets harder to move inside you. You’re right at the edge, you just need a little push. He cries out as you tighten further still, even as you stretch for him. “Feel so good around daddy’s cock.”

“I’m—fuck—so close it’s right there it’s right there it’s right—" you falter, holding your breath as you look for the weak spot, the brick to pull from that fucking wall that always stands between you and ecstasy.

Namjoon’s movements don’t change at all; his fingers keep working in tandem with his hips. It’s his voice is what finally brings it all crashing down for you. “Being such a good girl, such a good slut for this cock.”

You can feel yourself squeezing around him suddenly, the air whooshing out from your lungs as the orgasm pulls a cry from your throat. Namjoon stops thrusting, reveling in the feel of your cunt tightening around him, but his fingers don’t stop until you push them away. Your body shakes and shivers as he carefully pulls out and lowers your leg.

“Did so well for me,” he purrs, leaning down to kiss you, even as your body quakes beneath him. “Still okay with more?”

You shakily nod and reach for him with trembling hands. “Want your cum. Want you finish inside me, daddy.”

Namjoon nods darkly while he removes the pillow from beneath your hips. He has you move further up onto the bed, before having you flip to your stomach and lift your hips yet again. He places the pillow again, and hums when he’s satisfied.

“Breathe again for me, baby, we’re so close now.”

You spread your legs a little more and re-angle your hips as you feel the mattress dip with his weight. The fit of his cock in your cunt is even tighter now that you’ve orgasmed, but the stretch happens a little quicker, a little more easily. He sets a punishing pace, and it’s all you can do to keep from screaming. Your whines punctuate each of his thrusts and grunts. You might actually cry with his cock inside you like this and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

As his chest fits to your back, Namjoon’s weight falls to his elbows on either side of your shoulders. One arm drapes along your own, his hand grasping your own, supporting him as he drags his cock inside you. He trails his other hand along the skin of your collarbone before he brings it to your face.

“Open.”

You do as he asks, letting your lips part. He presses fingers into your mouth, and you start sucking on them without even needing to be told. His skin is salty, rough against your tongue as you give him a taste of what next time could be like. The feeling of having him within you twice over is overwhelming.

“So good for me baby girl, such a good cocksleeve just for me. Daddy’s gonna fill you up so good.”

You might come again, just from this.

His pace quickens, the bed beginning to creak in time with the slap of his flesh on yours. The deep grunts and groans are getting a little higher as he hurtles closer to his end, your own sounds mixing in with the din. His voice is sinful in your ears. He’s telling you how good you’re making you feel and it has you tensing up to the point of snapping.

The second wave of pleasure is much smaller than the first. Instead of a great cresting movement, it trickles gently down the nerves in your legs, warming you through. Your cunt twitches around his cock, and finally, it seems it’s too much for him as well.

“F-fuck—"

Namjoon shudders and suddenly, with one last moan, his body stills as he empties himself inside you. His breath is ragged, his chest hard and tense at your back as it heaves with hormones and exhaustion.

Without the creaking of the bed, the slap of skin on skin, or the amorous moans, the bedroom seems strangely silent. All that can heard is the heavy pants of you and Namjoon as you both recover. It could be minutes, it could be seconds or hours; you’re not sure, but the heavy weight of him at your back keeps you grounded.

Namjoon rolls off of you. He’s already begun to soften some; when he pulls out, so too comes the gush. You shiver and whine at his abrupt absence, trying to block the spill with your hand, but some of it still slips past and onto the pillow. You hear him scrambling, and suddenly he’s back at your side with a towel.

“Sorry, didn’t plan that too well. I keep a clean towel in my bedside drawer for … well—"

You flinch as he presses the towel to you, body still spent and heated. You tuck your hand beneath his, and finally, you feel secure enough to turn to your side without feeling like you’ll spill everywhere. He helps you roll off the pillow and sets it aside, then lays on his back beside you with a sigh.

“Glad to hear you take jack-off cleanliness seriously,” you say quietly.

He pouts a little at your small jab, and your heart floods with feeling. It’s unexpected; you’re shocked at just how sensitive you feel both physically and emotionally. The pout was supposed to be cute but instead you’re just feeling so much and it’s beginning to spill out. Why is that? And what’s he going to think when he sees?

“I spill shit too sometimes, you never know when—" He stops. His eyes flicker as they register the sudden change on your face. “What’s wrong, baby?” His voice is softer now, and suddenly, he’s pulling you into his chest.

“Just feeling a lot I guess. Good things, some weird things too. A lot. It’s just a lot,” you sniff, letting yourself bury your face between his pecs so he can’t see you cry. They’re there, you reason, might as well enjoy them like he enjoyed yours.

“Yeah, it’s a lot. I should have come back and gone straight to cuddling. Aftercare is important after intense encounters.”

“Yeah. I just got the fuck of a lifetime. Need cuddles.” Your voice is steady, in spite of the tears falling across your face.

“Great. I love cuddling,” he murmurs, sincerely. His hands are moving in soothing lines up and down your skin. “Fuck of a lifetime, huh?”

“Yeah. Don’t let it go to your head. Or do! Just make sure you can keep up with any claims you make, if that’s the case.”

“Anything for you, baby girl.” You smile into his warm flesh, the pet name making you feel shy now that you’re no longer inhabiting that role.

For a moment, silence falls. And then Namjoon quietly picks the conversation up again:

“No one’s ever called me pretty before.”

“Really? Did you like it?” Your unoccupied hand is tracing mindless shapes into his skin with a fingernail.

“Maybe. Just not used to it, I guess.”

“Well, I meant it. You’re really attractive to me. When you took your shirt off, I got really intimidated, if I’m being honest. Lots of skin and muscles and then you’ve got those dimples even when you’re being shy.”

You’re not looking him in the face right now but you suspect he’s got that look of embarrassment again, judging by how quiet he’s gotten.

“I’m just … not really used to being seen as attractive,” he says quietly.

“Me neither. It’s okay.” The words seem hurtful, but you say them with a smile. You’re not interested in impressing anyone. You’ve now found a person you like who reciprocates your attraction to them, so you can say the words without feeling like the truth is a curse.

“You’re cute as hell, I don’t want to hear it. The way your boobs feel in my hands makes my brain melt.”

“That’s … an interesting way to put it.”

“Well you know, don’t really know what else to say about the sex because my brain melted early on, so …”

It’s lame really, but you can’t help but laugh, and laugh with him. This moment could go on forever.

“That said, before we talk more, you should get up and pee. Big dick means big chance of a UTI.”

“Mmmm,” you nestle further into his chest. “Don’t wanna.”

“And I don’t want to have to get up to take you to an Urgent Care tomorrow because it hurts when you pee.”

“Aw, you’d take me to Urgent Care?”

“Of course, but I’d also get to say that I told you so. Do you really want that?”

“Fair point. I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook’s glad he volunteered to stay sober the night before. He feels crystal clear, which, for a Saturday morning, is unusual but not unwelcome. He even got to drive Yoongi home after everyone else had had a few beers. They stopped for late night fast food and even made out in the parking lot between bites of nuggies. And then he got to stay the night at his place and spoon him!! Not even sex! Just some PG-13 making out and falling asleep together! Pretty fucking sick night, if he says so himself.

Nothing can get him down, not when he’s hydrated and moisturized and in ~like~ with someone. It’s nice to be able to breathe in the vile scent of romantic sex in his apartment and not have is stomach churn with either alcohol or jealousy. Not that he or Namjoon get laid especially often, but still. He’s walking into the unit on this glorious Saturday morning, and not feeling like he’s got to expel the contents of his stomach. That’s cause enough to celebrate.

It seems oddly quiet to Jungkook. It’s already 9 AM; normally Namjoon’s up by now, shuffling around and watering his plants while the coffee maker brews. Instead, he’s nowhere to be seen. Jungkook glances around. No discarded clothing, no new pots in the sink, no lingering coffee smell beneath the tang of fornication. Maybe you’ve gone out to brunch? That would make sense, he thinks. Joon can’t cook for shit.

It’s either that or you woke up with a UTI from his monster dick. Wouldn’t be the first time it's happened, and unfortunately for you, probably not the last either.

Ah, Jungkook’s so glad you two never came back. The smell in the apartment confirms his and Taehyung’s suspicions. If they’d stuck around for long after you’d left, they might’ve even caught the salacious sounds, but thank god they’d left to go meet Yoongi and Jimin for a few drinks.

He kicks off his shoes, noting that your own are still there, and pads through the apartment. No sounds are coming from the other side of Namjoon’s door, but he carefully tests the knob just in case.

Of course. Idiot didn’t lock it. He never does, and somehow still hasn’t learned.

Jungkook’s too nosy for his own good, and allows himself a little peak into his roommate’s bedroom. His heart warms instantly; Namjoon’s bare back is facing him, his arm thrown over you, holding you close. He’s snoozing lightly, and you’re still out as well, it seems.

Ah. Young love. You two seem to have sorted it out. Jungkook retreats and closes the door silently, before pulling his phone from his pocket.

jkay:: dude looks like they finally fucked

tae:: thank fucking god. wanna go grab bagels?

jkay:: ya. let me change my clothes and see if i can get orders out of the love birds

tae:: great, see you soon.

Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)

©miscelunaaa 2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work.Thank you.

posted: 6.9.2022

#btshoneyhive #namjoon fic #bts fic #namjoon x reader #plus sized reader #namjoon x soft-bodied reader #namjoon x plus-sized female reader #namjoon x female reader #namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fic #kim namjoon fanfic #merry crisis yall #this is the most self indulgent filth I've ever written

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power-chords · 11 months

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Adam is doing a lot better now that the swelling from the kidney stents has gone down, and while life isn’t exactly peachy for him, it’s at least tolerable. I of course have a nasty upper respiratory infection for the second time in two months, which is just my luck. I tested negative on a PCR for Covid and am working from home but the irony is that I am way more miserable with whatever this bug is than I ever was when I did actually have Covid. I’ve been isolating from Adam as a precaution and sleeping on the daybed, so thankfully he hasn’t caught it.

I figure I probably picked it up on the Metro North since I haven’t been to any shows lately out of concern for Adam’s kidney surgery. And yet here I am in bed surrounded by tea mugs and piles of tissues. LOL. LMAO, even.

It’s just so demoralizing to be one of like two other people on a train car with a mask on and even when I take steps to protect myself I get sick anyway! I don’t judge people for not masking under ordinary circumstances, I don’t care, that ship has sailed and it is what it is. But every work day I see and hear people coughing and sniffling on my commute and of course they’re the ones without a mask on. This I just do not understand. You have symptoms! They dole out free masks at the information kiosks!! Be fucking courteous!

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funnuraba · 3 months

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Something I'm not sure leftists understand is that ignoring Covid isn't just a genocide against disabled people like me, who they obviously wanted dead the whole time. The effects of Long Covid are so debilitating that they can prevent you from thinking and moving at all. None of its symptoms are curable. They've never been a priority for research, either, so there's not much to build on. If enough people rack up enough infections, society as we know it could collapse very easily. And we're staggering at the brink already. Most people's immune systems are permanently damaged. Everyone was sick this past holiday season and hospitals were rationing care.

It's completely possible that we'll lose enough scientists to prevent ever finding treatment, or even a vaccine that prevents you from catching and spreading Covid in the first place. Even if they get discovered, we might lose the ability to produce or distribute vaccines and treatment. The people with the most chance of surviving this are the rich and famous, who are quietly keeping themselves safe with air filtration systems and PCR tests that no one else can afford. If you're a leftist who's not masking, you're quite literally choosing to hand the world over to a tiny handful of rich people.

Edit: the brain fog was so bad I completely forgot my original point, which is that the poor and marginalized societies leftists pretend to care about are already having Covid incorporated into ongoing genocides. People are posting about children in Gaza having novel seizures and heart attacks as though this is a normal and common stress response in children. Both of those things are actually symptoms of Covid infections even in vaccinated people. Palestine has been deliberately cut off from the vaccines, and they no longer even have hospitals to manage heart trouble in the acute stage.

Reporters in Gaza were posting at least a month ago about respiratory illness going around in the shelters. Almost no one on the left-wing side has even mentioned Covid in all this, despite how clear it was from the outset that an airborne pathogen would be a key part of the genocide. This can happen to absolutely any country. Any of you can have your access to boosters, masks, air filtration, etc. cut off at will--and in fact, countries like the UK have already openly embraced eugenics by denying boosters to most of the population. Leftists have to push for awareness and take basic steps like Wearing Their Damn Masks or the entire world is fucked.

#a lot of abled people have never genuinely looked death on the eyes and learned how completely their body will betray them #I learned this early because I'm a childhood cancer survivor who had 9 months of chemo with a 50% chance of survival #i'm afraid a lot of you will learn too late!#took me like 10 minutes to compose this with tons of typos; see: LC's effects on the brain

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astrum99 · 3 months

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Human’s inherent desire for understanding, and why angels are a perfect lure. (Rambling)

Humans have studied the art of the mystic for centuries. Before science, literature, and math, there were stories. Because storytelling is what guides us to experience, to learn, to make sense of both experience and knowledge.

Even when we do science, we say: “First, extraction of the sample DNA from the flesh was conducted through the process of centrifuge. Then, PCR was run to amplify the amount of recovered DNA. Restriction endonuclease enzyme was added to the sample, fragmenting DNA into smaller strands. The product was evaluated through agarose gel electrophoresis. 80-150V of electric force pulling the pieces toward the bottom. The shorter the pieces are, the faster they go. So, the DNA separates more, and paints a ladder of bands. You cannot see them. As the last step, you must stain them with fluorescent dye, and only under UV lights can you observe the crude data.”

Temporal. Sequential. Meaningful. This is a story called “DNA fingerprinting”.

The story of magic and godly realms and religion is of the same. They carry teachings (and entertainment). They last through centuries because there is something in them that humanity sees.

Humans are driven by a maddening sense of curiosity and exploration. To make sense of it all. To separate organs from man, to separate cells from organs, to separate DNA from cells, and to do it again, at a smaller scale with enzymes. There is an inherent desire to learn until all is deprived. To become passionate is to be consumed wholeheartedly.

So we sent people to explore the Arctic, the ocean, the sky, the universe. And when they perish, we send more.

The study of death is the same. To see beyond the veil is something impossible, because the dead cannot return. (Well, they technically can, depending on how you define death. If death is the stopping of the heart, then I suppose we are dying, in microdoses, every second of our lives. If death is the cease of memory and autonomy, then I suppose we are dying, in microdoses, every night in our beds.)

(I digress.)

The study of death is attractive because it looks into what we are sure we cannot possibly touch. So we only hope to examine what we can. The maggots that gnaw at the meat, the stillness of limbs in silence, the invasive infestations of bacteria and mold and creatures of all kinds.

The corpse is an afterimage of an experience of both life and death. We can only hope to study the husk and the life that sustains on that husk, hoping it is close enough to touch death.

It is similar to the study of the supernatural in that way. Magic only exists because we do not understand it. That’s why it is so captivating. The creation of a potion in a cauldron is the same as biochemistry. The transformation of forms and elements is the same as fusion physics. The impossible feats of flight were achieved by aeroplanes and carefully measured aerodynamics. There are ghosts born from boring undetected monoxide poisoning.

When we understand, magic loses its… well, magic.

It is similar to the study of religion in that way. Because we are desperately lonely, and we must make meaning, and so magic shall suffice in place of what we do not know and to fill what we do not have. I do not study religion, but I know at least a part of this is true – at least in its origin. The stories of gods, angels, demons, palaces in the sky, monsters in the ocean, a form of thousand eyes and arms and all-knowing and all being and loves like nothing else because we are greedy organisms that crave validation and safety and love and love and love. And we can learn anything it wants us to learn, make it through anything if love and peace are waiting for us at the end of it all. (Though religion, in all its implications, forms, and renditions have changed since then, as well as the interpretations of survived passages.)

I am not a believer in a higher being, nor am I a student of religion, so I cannot speak of all of it. I cannot claim understanding.

I think this is also partially why angels compel me so. They are the beyond. Above reasoning, above logic, in the same realm as the untouchable pureness of undiscovered science, death, magic, and religion.

What stories flow within its (his?) veins? What stories lie dormant in its (his) throat? What stories are etched on the body, the wings, the blade? What stories speak of the beating of its (his) heart and the bleeding of its (his) light? What of the cells, the molecules, the very physics (magic) that binds it (him) together?

Do you speak of the stories of love and despair and violence and hope as we do?

Please, do not answer me.

Because to know is to kill. The utter destruction of the imagination and wonder and passion. To purposefully look away from knowledge is the complete comprehension that understanding makes something die. It brings dullness to love.

So, please, let me see you in my mind’s eye, and nothing more.

#az thoughts #angelcore #rambling again and has to get this out of my body #yea its bc gabriel got me thinking again #long post #writing #spilled ink #<- recently learned this tag exists #im a fan of a few really strong lines but this is honestly a bit tedious to read #if you're reading i really hope you enjoyed lol #az personal

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bizarrequazar · 2 years

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07-18 (CST) Fanmeet Video Space Notes

This was a space hosted by QuelleVous, joined by Naan, Bluebird, Flora, followerno65, and Zfan. The primary topic of discussion was the video that was released the previous day of a supposed fanmeet “Zhang Zhehan” was present at, with some discussion as well about some information uncovered because of the Vox article. [Recording]

First off a warning: Things are going to get worse before they get better.

Xie Yihua and co. have plans to spread misinformation to CPFs who are on the fence (ie. those who believe the account but still like Gong Jun) that Zhang Zhehan is under duress from his mother who is threatening self-harm to get him to comply, forcing him to indirectly launder money for his brand and the tea shop.

Fanmeet Video

Multiple body doubles for Zhang Zhehan exist, who are used for different purposes (ex. deepfake video vs golf videos, etc.) Therefore, it’s not unreasonable to assume they also have a body doubles for Xiao Yu and Zhang Mama.

Reiteration that Xie Yihua and co. are trying to take advantage of people’s emotional response to things like this video. Take a step back and take some time off if you need to.

This is not a third-rate scammer behind this, it’s CAPA. They’re basically the mafia of c-ent, they have a lot of power and resources. Don’t underestimate them.

The “Xiao Yu” in the video is dressed like he did when he was actively working as Zhang Zhehan’s assitant, this doesn’t make sense for someone who is just living his life. They are playing off of what we the audience will recognize as him.

The sources for the video are claiming it is taken yesterday (07-17) and that the event was over by 4pm.

At no point in the video does anyone in it say Zhang Zhehan’s name. They did ask things like “Is that him?” when he walked in.

“Zhang Zhehan” in the video claims it was a spontanious meetup, but people who claim to have gone said they knew about it in advance.

“Spontanious” yet they have a video recorder, a photographer, a make up artist, Xiao Yu, Zhang Mama, the cat, and Lexus present?

From a PR point of view, this fanmeet makes no sense.

The cards “Zhang Zhehan” signs in the video have 05-11 written on them.

The grand opening of this tea shop was 05-08. Some videos and photos were “leaked” of this opening which showed a woman claimed to be Zhang Mama. It was a similar situation where only some people knew about it.

Xie Yihua and co. had said pre-05-11 that something big was being planned for his birthday, yet nothing happened. It’s possible that this video was planned to be released then but was put on hold due to the Instagram being deactivated and/or COVID lockdowns that were happening at the time that would have made it hard to explain how Zhang Zhehan could be there.

Someone there said that he was only willing to sign those card and refused to sign other things that people asked him to. This fan claimed it was because someone tried to get him to sign a CP photo.

Shenzhen is not currently in lockdown but you need a negative PCR test to access public transport, shops can only work at limited capacity with no on-site customers (ie. takeaway/delivery).

Reiteration that Zhang Mama never owned the Shenzhen tea shop nor any other physical tea shop. The original tea shop was owned by Chen Liying, that company was deregistered last September. A new company was registered for the physical tea shop by two of her relatives. This tea shop is a franchise of Bao Deng Yuan. All of this can be seen through public records.

Legally you cannot find Zhang Zhehan’s PCR tests as people have claimed, doing so is illegal. Don’t do it. QuelleVous asks that people stop sending her these.

There is also currently a 40°C heatwave over Shanghai and Shenzhen.

Another disgraced star recently tried to have a fanmeet and was roasted to hell and back for it. Passersby do not like this sort of behaviour.

“Zhang Zhehan” having this fanmeet has already been spread around, saying that he’s using it to try to cut leeks.

It is not on hotsearch though, likely not from lack of trying. Weibo are likely being careful because they’re taking money to do shit but they don’t want to get in trouble for it. Regardless, don’t be surprised if it gets on hotsearch.

Candy break! Around June 2021, Zhang Zhehan and his staff were photographed at an airport carrying a Louis Vuitton bag. This bag had not even become available for pre-order yet (QV checked), and the only people who would have had access to it would be their spokespeople (aka Gong Jun.)

Lexus seems to be taking over some of Sophie’s duties, moving more into the front line.

Lexus keeps bragging about having graduated from Arizona State University. Flora says this is not an accomplishment at all given that he would be an international student and therefore the schools are trying to meet a certian quota. Naan seconds this.

Toxic accounts have been weirdly protective of Lexus.

Info found through the Vox article

Zfan looked into every source used in the Vox article. Much of it is literally the first Google result. Two articles from Reuters about Yasukuni Shrine were found this way, the latter of which was referenced in the Vox article.

The first article is from August 3rd 2020. It discussed the cherry blossoms but did not say much about the shrine’s controversy, referring to it as a “haunting legacy.”

The second article is from August 14 2021. This one is almost the exact same, but now edited to talk about people praying at the shrine and very much talks about it being controversial with China.

Zfan reached out to someone working in news media and asked if reposting an edited version of an old article is normal, they said absolutely not, and that no legitimate news agency would do that.

Both of these articles came out of the Tokyo office.

6 hours after 2021 article—only a few hours after the CAPA ban notice—an article was released from Reuter’s Beijing office about Zhang Zhehan which includes clear mistakes (ex. him visiting the shrine twice, in 2018 and 2019). Anyone who was looking up the shrine that day would have seen these two articles.

The person who wrote these articles has not been found yet.

For CAPA to utilize a news agency like Reuters shows just how far their reach is.

Closing Reminders

Xie Yihua and co. are posting things like this video as distractions—keeping track of all of this is exhausting, especially if you’re relying on it because you’re still on the fence about whether it’s really him. (Spoiler: It’s not.)

Again on the question of why Zhang Zhehan doesn’t say anything: You only get one chance to clarify for yourself in situations like his. The public only gives you so much time, they don’t care about you after that. You’re not going to take that chance until you’re sure you’re ready, and you want to address foremost what is most important.

He has to pick his battles, he has to pick his timing. It’s not up to us to decide.

He is the one pressing charges against CAPA, he is not the defendent.

This keeps being pulled back to a fandom issue when it is and should be a social issue.

Zhang Zhehan is going to focus on his actual case, not these fandom distractions that are obviously trying to bait him out and decrease the value of his fandom.

The end goal—the one all of us want, no matter what our stance on the Instagram is, whether we’re a CPF or a solo or whatever—is for him to be able to speak for himself. That is what we are all waiting for. That is what is important.

You are the main character of your own life, don’t center your entire life around him. Do good for yourself and be someone you can be proud of.

Concluding candy!

Naan’s: Ace Actress, how all the photos and footage of them were very touchy feely and how they pushed their chairs closer together. Also the way that Zhang Zhehan mentioned on screen and talked to the industry people there about how prepared Gong Jun always is—that is exactly what producers want to hear when they’re looking for who to hire. It really shows how much Zhang Zhehan respects and cares about Gong Jun.

Zfan’s: The photo Gong Jun posted where he had blue shaving cream on his face from when he was on the previous season of Go Fighting!.

#Zhang Zhehan #my zzh posts #zzh info

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