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bokunoheros · 2 months ago

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TAGS/WARNINGS: gn reader but afab with descriptions of feminine clothing (also katsuki calls you princess like once or twice idk), alcohol consumption, everyone is 24+, shouto is bisexual asf, katsuki and reader are married, reader did not go pro, some mlm action (todobaku content scattered throughout bc i am a god and can make them do whatever i want!!), shouto cucks a little bit, also shouto is a nasty closet perv lol, overstimulation, inappropriate quirk usage, oral (reader receiving), spit roasting, backshots, idk what else i could possibly mention other than this is nothing but filth GENRE: SMUTTTT MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 18+ ONLY SUMMARY: after a party celebrating their top spot as heroes, shoto gets a little too drunk and has to stay the night with you and your husband, dynamight. shenanigans ensue. a new boyfriend is acquired? WORD COUNT: one million billion (jk it’s 10.4K) 🦊’s A/N: god help me. shoutout XENOVA for the celebration party idea. uhm pt2 maybe if this blows up idk. also this was not proofread bc i’m running out of time and it’s too long. and uhm its not exactly manga-canon bc i think deku deserves to be the no.1 hero idgaf. horikoshi when i catch you. // anyway enjoy lol

it was mina’s idea to hold the party originally, and you who offered to host, since you were the one dating the number two pro hero, dynamight, and had enough space to accompany the old class 1-A. it took a little persuasion from your end to get katsuki on board, but he eventually agreed, despite his bitching about how you two needed to whip this place into shape before anyone dared to set foot into your shared home.

this, of course, meant more work for you in the end since your husband was so terribly busy with work. ….that’s not to say he wasn’t helpful, though; of course not! whenever he wasn’t bone tired from whatever villain attack or whatever there was that day, he was more than happy to help you pick up (well…… that’s how the phrase goes, at least; bakugou himself didn’t mind cleaning with you and helping out around the house, per se, it’s just that he always came off as aggressive in the everything that he did) and really start getting the house ready for the upcoming party this weekend.

when it was all said and done, everything had been dusted and all the floors swept and vacuumed; the pillows on the living room couch had been fluffed and the kitchen counters were wiped down and had been bleached in preparation for the day you were about to spend in the kitchen cooking for this party. at least katsuki was there to help you with this the most out of all the other chores — and it was really the most time consuming one, too, so his help here was greater than he realized. him being an actually good cook just so happened to be an extra, heaven-sent bonus.

despite this, you had actually gone out of your way to prepare three main courses: (cold) soba, katsudon, and then something on the spicier side for your husband for the top three heroes you were celebrating tonight, along with some appetizers and snacks, of course.

finally, the day of the party was upon you, and you finished running your last couple of errands (namely stocking up on alcohol) right as ashido and the rest of the girls arrived in a limo. …..guess yaomomo went all out, huh? well, it's not like you could exactly blame her—it had been years since you had All been together due to everyone being busy with their own work, even now there were a few who couldn't make it, like satou and koji, or mezou and fumikage, due to circumstances out of their control. it was a shame really, you would have loved to have some of rikido’s sweets since he was such a good baker. ah, must not have been meant to be then. no use in dwelling on it. especially when everyone was beginning to pull up!

“eeee, my pookie! how have you been!? how’s life with baku—no, dynamight?!” mina eagerly squeals as she runs towards you, arms extended and ready to grip you in a crushing hug.

“ackgh–! too tight, too tight–!” you choke out as she squeezes you half to death.

“oh, sorry!” she apologizes, letting go and backing up slightly as the rest of the old 1-A girls come up behind her and the limo driver drives back to yaoyorozu’s manor until it was time to come pick the ladies back up. “now. spill all the tea,” she says, giving you a serious look all of a sudden, and you feel a smile stretch across your face. it’s nice to know she’s just the same as she was in high school.

“well—why don’t you come in and see for yourself?” you gesture to your shared home, to which the girls gawked at in awe. it wasn’t an estate or anything like yaomomo’s place of residence, but it was certainly large enough to accompany everyone attending and then some.

leading them inside, you open the already unlocked door (katsuki was busy in the kitchen aggressively finishing up the fruit platters and charcuterie boards, making sure they were up to his standards before serving them) and led them all in.

“kats, ‘m home! n’ all the girls are here!” you shout loud enough from him to hear you from the foyer.

your husband swears and grumbles under his breath, eyes darting to look at the clock just as it struck 17:00 (that’s 5pm for those of you who don’t use the 24hr format). goddammit, they were perfectly on time. whatever, he was done arranging the meats and cheeses of the charcuteries anyway.

moving to set the trays on the coffee table in the living room for everyone to enjoy, he greets you at the door with the softest little smile ever, one mina just barely catches sight off, which she immediately teases him for and his usual scowl makes a re-appearance in record time as he becomes prickly and sharp again, huffing out a gruff make yourselves at home or whatever.

after that, it was another twenty-ish minutes before nearly everyone else arrived.

shouto, however, was the last to get there due to him getting into an argument with his father prior to leaving. it was a surprise to even himself that he decided to come anyway, but he had grown to be more sociable than he was back in high school, and also he was one of the three people the party was actually being thrown for, so…. it would just be incomplete without him there, and he recognized that.

soon, the party kicked into full swing and the alcohol was excitedly opened and everyone could feel themselves relaxing as it grew closer to dinnertime—which you happily (and tipsily) served to everyone around half past seven.

once everyone had eaten and had time to let their food settle, people began saying their goodbyes as the night grew later and later. all except shouto, that was, who was actively still drinking, sitting on your couch with a bottle of sake in his left hand as he watches everyone else clears out.

“fuck’s he doin’? just sittin’ there,” bakugou grumbles, coming up to stand next to you after seeing eijirou and denki to the door (uptight as he could be, even your husband was capable of relaxing after a drink or two…. or several). he wasn’t… erm, upset with shouto’s prolonged visit, per se, but he was definitely tired and wanted some alone time with his spouse for fuck’s sake.

“be nice, ‘tsuki,” you scold him lightly, moving to walk towards shouto, who had a sleepy look in his eyes, to stand in front of him. “hey, todo, y’okay?” you ask, waving a hand in front of his tired face.

“mmh? ‘m fine.” his words slur together slightly as he refocuses his blurry gaze on you, and for a moment, the number 3 pro hero thinks you look like an angel sent from heaven to take care of him—until katsuki ruins the moment by walking over and saying;

“great, then you can obviously get yourself home!”

“katsuki!” you hiss, looking over to where he stood next to you. “you can stay the night if you need to, shouto,” you tell him softly, squatting down in front of him and placing a hand on each knee to look up at him from almost between his legs — something your husband absolutely did not appreciate.

“hey—” he tries to interject, but the young todoroki had already accepted your kind offer, knowing better than to walk or drive home in his current state.

“relax, kats, he can sleep on the couch if you don’t want him in a guest bedroom—even though that’s what they’re for,” you suggest/remind him.

“i guess,” he huffs, crossing his arms as you finally stand back up.

shouto, meanwhile, moves to stand up from where he sat, swaying a bit before you put both hands on his broad shoulders and force him to sit back down.

“nuh-uh, you sit right there, sir,” you say playfully. “is there something you need?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as katsuki grits his teeth while you tend to that drunk icyhot cunt. (as if he himself wasn’t also wasted).

shouto pauses to think for a moment, thinking about his words carefully before opening his mouth.

“do you have any—” he lags and forgets the word he’s looking for mid-sentence. “uhm. ….unfrozen ice?” he asks, tilting his head partially to the side like a confused creature might.

“oh my god,” bakugou groans at his request as you break out into a fit of giggles. “you fucking mean water?” he asks his fellow pro-hero. god. what a sorry fuckin’ sight he was — can’t-stand-up-drunk on katsuki’s couch, while he forgot a word as basic as water. jesus christ, he cannot believe you offered to let this fool stay here without even asking him if it was okay first. whatever. he’d just have to fuck you so good that that walking peppermint couldn’t sleep at all. yeah, he could totally do that.

“water, yes,” shouto follows up as you have to wipe the tears from your eyes at his drunken words. standing up straight, having doubled over from laughter, you nod and tell him yeah, we have unfrozen ice, and that you’ll get him some.

after you had left the room, though, katsuki huffs loudly and stares down at shouto, who was still seated on the plush sofa.

“listen, todoroki,” he spits out, one hand splaying out in an aggressive manner as his quirk popped off quietly. despite the alcohol in his system, katsuki was still just as…. well, just as aggressive and competitive as always despite the way he had grown more outwardly affectionate (towards you specifically) over the course of the evening.

“i dunno, or care, what you’re trying but just know—” an embarrassing hic cuts him off and his face flushes from more than just the alcohol. suddenly, his big tough guy act drops as his blush reaches the tips of his ears and you come back into the room with two cups of water, handing one off to shouto and the other to your husband.

both men silently and gratefully take the glasses from you, gulping it down before they even realized just how thirsty they were until the cups were empty and they were looking at you, causing you to suddenly feel small under their intense gazes.

“‘ll go—get s’more,” you slur, taking the now empty glasses back from the two men, and also this moment alone to calm your racing heart, and maybe pour yourself another shot. or two. or three. calm down, you’re only alone with the two finest men in the world — one of which you’re married to!! you think to yourself as you begin pouring them another glass from the nice water pitcher you had specifically set out for tonight.

taking the bottle of vodka from its spot on the counter, you look at how much is left and simply decide on drinking straight from the bottle and polishing it off. little did you know, you’d need that liquid courage for later on tonight. before bringing the two well-built men their water, you dispose of the vodka bottle, putting it in the recycling and heading back into the living room.

after a comment from katsuki about how it was getting late, you escort shouto upstairs to a guest bedroom and show him where the bathroom is before excusing yourself to your shared bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind you, just for katsuki to barge in seconds later as you move to the master bathroom to start brushing your teeth.

he joins you shortly after, having discarded his nicer dress shirt and pants in the bedroom’s laundry basket, leaving him far more comfortable in his unfairly flattering black boxer briefs.

“jesus—kats, how are you so fuckin’ fine?” you ask after spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste, and he only chuckles and lets a small smile stretch across his lips.

“dunno—could ask you the same thing, though,” he quips back, grabbing his own toothbrush from the little cup it sat in, running it under the water before putting the toothpaste on it and bringing it up to his already white teeth and scrubbing the night’s grime away.

you giggle at his words, running your toothbrush under the water and giving your teeth a final once over with the brush and scrape your tongue, rinsing it one final time, and then tapping it against the sink’s edge to get some of the excess water out.

finally, you made your way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it as you watch your husband finish up in the bathroom before he stalks over to you, an almost predatory look in his eye as he comes to tower over you and you can feel a chill run down your spine as he sizes you up from your spot on the king sized bed.

“katsuki..? what’re you—”

your question is almost immediately cut off as his slightly chapped lips come crashing down against yours as he knocks you back onto the bed and stands between your now spread legs—which quickly wrap around his narrow waist as his large and calloused hands find purchase on your hips.

“mmmfgh,” your hum turns into a moan as you focus on the feeling of your husband’s lips against yours, melting into him as he leans over you, teeth clacking slightly as he tilts his head for a better angle to kiss you at.

“was getting tired of that icyhot bastard,” he grumbles, eyebrows furrowing together as the grip on your hips tighten possessively at the mention of shouto, as if your husband wasn’t the one to bring him up?

his words make you chuckle nonetheless as a smile spreads over your pretty, soon to be kiss-swollen, lips as you lean back on your palms, the bed sinking beneath your weight.

“‘m sorry, tsuki,” you mumble softly before you feel his tongue run over your lower lip, silently begging for entrance to your hot mouth — to which you eagerly granted access to, moaning quietly when he licks into your mouth. he tastes like tequila and spicy udon, and it’s utterly intoxicating (or maybe that was the last of the vodka you’d downed earlier taking effect). “didn’ mean t’invite him withou’ askin’ you,” you slur out, rolling your hips up against his growing erection.

“‘s okay, i guess,” he pants, pulling away only slightly in order to look you in the eyes, letting you know that he really didn’t mind. sure, shouto was quiet and didn’t actually interfere with what he had planned tonight (or so he thought), so he was only mildly annoyed instead of genuinely bothered. besides….. he had left the door partially open after barging into the bedroom on purpose… just in case that walking candy cane happened to overhear and wanted a peak at the show he wouldn’t be allowed to join.

and just like that, your husband’s lips come crashing down against yours yet again, tongue easily seeking out your own and swirling around yours before sucking it into his mouth, humming pleasantly around the wet muscle (he was in a shockingly good mood, actually…. guess he enjoyed the party more than he let on—that and the alcohol was a large factor, too) before pulling off of it with a nasty, wet pop! noise.

“mmh, glad you’re not mad,” you mutter, eyes fluttering open to take a peek at him. and what you saw was downright angelic — a harsh contrast from his usual demeanor and appearance.

“why would i be?” he asks, and you straight up laugh, ruining the moment entirely. “hey–!”

“sorry, ‘m sorry—it’s just—” you wipe a tear from your eye. “you’re usually not so— what’s the word? calm? something like that,” you try explaining to him, a smile gracing your features.

“i’m calm! i’m always calm!” he spits out, raising his voice, sending you into another round of laughter.

“god—i love ya s’much, kats,” you tell him after composing yourself, shifting on the bed so you were leaning against the plush pillows lining the headboard and bakugou eagerly follows after you, moving between your legs, which easily wrapped back around his hips, pulling him closer against you, and he shifted so that he was propping himself up on a forearm, his other hand coming to press against the small of your back, arching it for you as his lips found their way to your neck, where he began to nip at the sensitive skin there.

“you’re pretty great too, i s'pose,” he grins against your flesh before beginning to suck at the junction of your neck and shoulder, determined to leave a mark dark enough to last a week, at least.

“yeah? ‘s good t’hear,” you giggle breathily as he assaults your neck, and one hand comes to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through his mysteriously spiky hair (you’ve never once seen him use hair gel—hell, you’ve even searched his entire side of the bathroom because you didn’t believe him when he told you it’s just like that).

it doesn’t take long for bakugou to get fed up with the clothes separating your bare skin from his, desperate to physically feel you against him, and in record time, he has the skirt of your dress bunched up around your hips, you’re sitting up slightly, and he’s tugging the fabric the rest of the way off, carelessly throwing it onto the floor.

shouto, meanwhile, lay awake staring at the ceiling in your comfortable guest’s bed, drunkenly reminiscing back to high school, and the crush he didn’t know was a crush he had on you. had he known, he probably would have asked you out sometime in your senior year—instead, he misinterpreted his affections as an intimate friendship with admiration for you and your quirk. what always baffled him, though, is why you would pick katsuki bakugou to love out of all people (not like you really had a choice in the matter…… one day you woke up and realized your supposed hatred for him was, in fact, a bone-deep love that consumed you whole).

with an achy sigh, todoroki sits up and gets up to use the bathroom. after washing his hands and splashing his face with some cool water to sober up at least a little, his ears perk up on the way back to his temporary room. on his way back, however, he happened to catch the faintest echo of a feminine moan, and before he can stop himself, he’s silently stalking down the hall to the master bedroom, where he found the door to be cracked open wide enough for him to get a surprising view of dynamight with his head between your legs and your underwear and dress strewn across the otherwise neat floor.

immediately, his dick twitches to life in his nice dress pants and he nearly groans at the way you moan katsuki’s name so sweetly. god…. that should be me, he thinks to himself enviously as your husband focuses solely on eating you out.

“aa-ahh! mmm, katsuki!” you cry out, both hands coming down in attempt to push his face away from your messy cunt, but to no avail. katsuki offered you no respite as his hot tongue explored your puffy folds as he began to suck on your clit. “katsu—fuck!”

you’re ignorant to the feeling of another pair of eyes on you, too caught up in the feeling of being eaten out, but katsuki isn’t — he feels shouto’s burning gaze, and he can’t help but smirk to himself. so he was right: icyhot couldn’t resist a good show, and boy, was katsuki about to perform.

“hmm?” he hums, one hand resting on your thigh while he uses the forearm of his other arm to keep you from bucking your hips up. he doesn’t exactly care about what it is you’re whining about; he knows you’re fine and he intends to make you cum at least thrice tonight to show off to shouto, who was apparently a giant closeted pervert.

and it was true. shouto was nasty without even realizing it — and that’s not to say he slept around, god no (he was 24 and still a virgin….), he just had fantasies. many of which involved you, and shamefully, on occasion, you and katsuki. it made his cheeks burn to even think about, but he would be a liar if he said he’d never gotten off to the idea of a threesome with you and your husband. jesus, and now, here the opportunity was laid right there in front of him, and what was he doing? slowly starting to palm at his erection and bite his bottom lip as he watches the scene in front of him unfold.

“i— shit–!” you squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back as you tug at his hair. “god, just—! slow down!” you whine, and katsuki’s eye twitches.

like in every other aspect in his life, bakugou tended to be rough and aggressive in the bedroom; put simply, you turned him into a feral man—brought out the inner animal in him. he was, as surprising as it may seem to some, a generous lover, however, due to his have to be the best at everything mentality, so, by extension, this included his ability to give and inflict pleasure (mixed with a healthy amount of pain, because, well.. it’s katsuki).

“nah.” blatantly ignoring your request, he pulls his head away from your drooling pussy, the lower half of his face covered in your slick, and blows a cold puff of air against your throbbing slit, causing you to whine out his name as he nips at the fatty skin of your inner thigh—dangerously close to your cunt—sucking and biting until a dark purple mark begins to form. a smirk stretches over his somewhat thin, although plump, lips knowing shouto would never get to litter your body in bruises and hickeys the same way he does.

“mmh—jesus, kats–!” it’s all you can do to whimper as he resumes the disgustingly messy way he was tongue fucking your pussy.

shouto almost groans as he gets harder and harder, almost painfully so, as he watches katsuki fervently eat you out, and suddenly, he wishes it was him between your legs with bakugou watching instead.

as silently as he possibly can, todoroki begins to unbuckle his belt in order to slip a hand past the waistband of both his pants to feel himself through the fabric of his sickeningly tight boxers. he’s careful to bite back what would be any whimpers or quiet moans, knowing it’s so shotover for him if he gets caught.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, swallowing thickly as he watches as you’re eaten out until you’re cumming with a loud cry of your husband’s name (shouto pretended it was his name you were calling out), and he goes to turn around to hide in the bedroom you’d so kindly allowed him to stay in to jerk off until he hears—

“y’gonna come out, icyhot, or are ya just gonna stand there like a loser cuck all night?” katsuki lifts his head from between your legs to look at the half-and-half bastard peeping on him and his spouse…… what a fucking freak.

“sh–shouto!?” you squeak, not having noticed his presence until the man you’d married had pointed him out. “wh–what’re you—!” you can’t even think of what to say before he’s trying to apologize and katsuki’s cussing him out—telling him to get his ass in here before he really makes him sorry.

just how drunk was your husband? or shouto for that matter? truthfully, you were probably the most sober person in the room.

slowly, silently, and shamefully, shouto makes his way into your bedroom, where he comes to stand at the foot of the bed with a horribly noticeable tent in his pants. he wants to look down at the floor, but he’s physically incapable of taking his eyes off your naked, sweaty form—and katsuki’s toned back, for that matter. he gulps anxiously as he waits for the perpetually angry blond to inevitably break the ice.

much to his surprise, however, it was you to speak up first, admitting that you didn’t mind shouto’s presence—followed by katsuki sarcastically asking if you wanted him to join, to which your body stiffened and cheeks flushed at the thought.

“what? don’t tell me you like the idea of that half n’ half idiot joinin’ the fun?” a wicked grin stretches over his slick lips as he quirks a brow up at you before shrugging and saying; “fine, just remember: you asked for this.”

“you heard ‘em, todoroki, get the hell over here,” he spits out, and shouto complies immediately—he could not believe what was about to happen and neither could (nor katsuki for that matter).

as he closes the gap between you three, he fumbles with the buttons of his dress shirt before ultimately just ripping it open and shrugging it onto the floor. repeating the same action with his pants, he struggles slightly with the zipper before tugging it down and quickly stepping out of them, nearly tripping in the process—to which katsuki has to stifle a laugh.

shouto feels dizzy and light-headed from how hard he is, and he bites his thick bottom lip as he nervously crawls onto the oversized bed, sitting adjacent to you as he awaits further instructions from the ever-demanding bakugou.

“katsu—”

“shut up,” he says gruffly, one large hand coming up to cover your mouth—he was about to dictate everything that was about to go down. “you—todoroki—listen real fuckin’ closely, because i’m not repeating myself. you can look, but ‘m still deciding if you’re allowed to touch yet—” katsuki directs his attention from him to you and asks; “whaddya think, princess? would y’like that? both of us touchin’ you?” and it’s all you can do to nod, cheeks physically heating up in shame and embarrassment.

“i guess i’ll allow it, then,” he says, moving his hand away from your face so he can manhandle you into a sitting up position, making you straddle his lap and telling shouto to move behind you.

you feel your heartbeat quicken significantly now that you’re naked and sandwiched between two of the hottest men you’ve ever been blessed with the chance to encounter. dear god. take a breath, you’ve got this. …..and that’s why your pussy’s all but drooling right now? you can’t help but roll your bare cunt over your husband’s erection, letting out a delicious little moan in the process, and shouto’s equally large hands hesitantly find purchase on your hips, and you look back over your shoulder as he leans in attempt to kiss you—just to be blocked by katsuki’s hand against his pouty lips.

“i didn’t fuckin’ say you could kiss them,” he hisses. shouto, however, mentally shrugs this off, grabs the angry blond’s wrist to move his hand, and leans in over your shoulder, pressing his chest firmly against your back, in order to—kiss your husband instead????!

holy shit—this is so much hotter than it should be, jesus christ. you’re genuinely ashamed of the way shouto moving to kiss katsuki rather than you turns you on, and you even let a little oh my god slip in awe and horny amazement.

“what the actual fuck, icyhot!?” your husband explodes, trying to shove shouto away from him, but causing you to fall back fully into his lap, where you can feel his boner pressing up against your ass.

“n–no,” you speak up. “d–do it again.” you try your best not to mutter the request, looking between the man who had crushed on you all through high school and the one you’d ended up marrying.

“huh!? have you both lost your fucking minds?!”

“please..? do it for me, ‘tsuki?” you beg as sweetly as you can, a pout tugging at your lips as you did your best kicked puppy eyes. as tough as bakugou acted, deep down, he did, in fact, have a soft spot for you, and would do nearly anything for you—and this, unfortunately, was about to be one of the things he was willing to do. maybe he had the whiskey to thank for his… bravery, but for some reason, the idea of making out with that peppermint bastard really didn’t seem so bad. ….jesus, what is he thinking?

“tch, fine,” he clicks his tongue before he’s suddenly snatching you out of shouto’s lap and bringing you back onto his, where he shifts so his back’s against the headboard and says; “‘f y’can ride me, then sure, ‘ll do whatever you want, sweetheart.”

nodding eagerly, you tug the waistband of his boxers down just enough to free his aching cock, where it hits his lower tummy and you impatiently use one hand to line up the angry red tip with your slick entrance before sinking down to the base with ease. you both moan at the feeling and katsuki beckons shouto over after pressing a quick kiss to your shiny lips to remind himself why he was doing this.

shouto’s dick aches enviously, desperately wishing he could feel your heat, but quickly gets over it as his chest presses against your back once again and his lips land against katsuki’s. actually, todoroki was not an experienced kisser—at all, really; he was only copying what he had seen in movies, so he’s a little surprised when the blond’s tongue runs over the seam of his lips and his heterochromatic eyes fly open at the feeling.

katsuki, however, reaches around you to grab shouto’s cheeks, forcing him to part his pretty lips, and he easily slips his tongue past his kiss-swollen lips. meanwhile, shouto’s strong arms wrap around your waist while he allows your husband to explore the inside of his mouth, his face heating up despite the way a chill runs down his spine.

“mmh,” he hums quietly, freezing his tongue in order to give your husband a little surprise—which works very well, seeing as how katsuki pulls away with a heaving gasp.

“what the fuck?” he pants, rolling his hips up into dripping cunt, and you let out a little moan, grinding down against him at the same time, allowing him to brush up against your g-spot while shouto moves to kiss katsuki again, large hands coming up to cup his flushed, tanned cheeks, trying to tilt his head for a better angle as he mimics the way the blond’s tongue had run over the seam of his lips, and is pleasantly surprised when he reluctantly parts his slightly thinner lips for the much calmer man.

jesus christ, you think to yourself, trying to bounce against your husband’s dick to the best of you ability, but groaning in frustration when his absurdly calloused hands come down against your hips to hold you in place.

“mm—’tsuki,” you whine as he wholly focuses on kissing shouto (who was currently living out his wet dream). it’s all you can do to wiggle in place, trying to grind your clit against his neatly trimmed pubic hair, desperate for any kind of friction. meanwhile, shouto’s freezing hand comes up to grope your chest, causing you to let out a quiet yelp at the feeling of him tweaking roughly with your nipple.

poor, poor inexperienced shouto had no gauge or concept of what exactly he was doing, relying on instinct and everything he’d seen in the little porn he had watched; he silently prays he’s acting accordingly and soon his heated left hand is coming up to grab at your other tit.

“sh–shouto!” you moan, almost causing katsuki to pause in his action as a growl leaves his throat—now this just simply would not do, no, no, no. !!!! fuck! his dick twitches inside you as he ruts his hips upwards while holding firmly onto your hips. “je–jesus! katsuki!”

that’s better, he thinks to himself, a smug, self-satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his plump lips as he tries not to overthink his kiss with todoroki. god. as fucking embarrassing, humiliating, and shameful as it was, …..katsuki absolutley could not deny the fact that he was feeling so, so, so many things right now, things he never would have considered sober, let alone acted on, and now….. now, he was rock fucking hard as he feels the inside of shouto’s mouth, tracing his tongue along the grooves of his blindingly white teeth and inner cheeks before swirling it around his own heated muscle.

he wants to tell shouto he’s not half bad at this when he begins to suck on his tongue—taking him violently by surprise—but can’t bring himself to dole out the praise, not wanting him to get an ego about how well he was managing to keep up.

you can feel your stomach doing flips and your pussy creaming around your husband’s cock as the two men you’re sandwiched between really go at it, and suddenly your mouth feels dry as you let out a low, drawn out whine.

“fuck,” is all you’re able to say as you dig your nails into katsuki’s back while arching your own, with shouto still pinching and tweaking with your poor, erect nipples—his hands were almost at extreme temperatures, and you choke out something about how good it feels, offering the number three hero the praise he needed—something bakugou wasn’t a huge fan of.

half n’ half wants to use his quirk? that’s fine—he can, too!

the next thing you know, your hips feel scorchingly hot and you’re hearing the sound of a very small-scale explosion, and you yelp out your husband’s name, pussy fluttering around his achy length, and you have to bite your lower lip when you feel tears welling up in your eyes from all the stimulation. had you known inviting a drunk shouto to stay the night would lead to this, you would have done it years ago! …because honestly, you were crushing hard on him your freshman year of highschool together—but unfortunately for you, that’s when he had first begun to actually explore his emotions for the first time in his life, leading you to believe you never stood a chance with him.

katsuki, however, while his primary emotion was anger, you could tell something was up with him and his feelings towards you when he stopped yelling at you as much compared to the others. don’t get one wrong, he definitely still shouted at you, because that’s just who he was, but….. it was enough for you and the girls of 1-A to pick up on—something they teased you relentlessly about behind closed doors because nobody ever dared to mention anything in front of bakugou in fear of ruining your chances together (as you see, mina and a few others were die hard shippers while the rest enabled this behavior).

“christ’s sake, katsuki,” you hiss as his quirk repeatedly pops off against your reddening skin and you have to physically bite your tongue to keep yourself grounded enough to scold him. …try to, anyway. “thi— this isn’t a—ahh! fuck!—a compe–titon! jesus!” you moan.

a competition.

that word ring in katsuki’s ears as he pulls away from his kiss with shouto, admittedly a little breathlessly, a smirk stretching over his glossy lips.

“now that’s an idea,” he muses out loud, causing shouto to tilt his head and your eyes to widen. goddammit, you just had to go and open your bigass mouth, didn’t you?

“n–no; whatever you— you’re planning, forget about it,” you say as firmly as you can despite the way your pussy flutters around him.

bakugou clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes at the way you whine out such a ridiculous request.

“mmh, nah,” he grins, hands holding you firmly in place against him, preventing you from even rolling your hips—something you’re quick to bitch about.

“god–dammit!” sometimes you wish your husband wasn’t so goddamn strong—it made it that much easier for him to manhandle you into any position he wanted.

“y’up for a little challenge, icyhot?” katsuki ignores you entirely, focusing his intense gaze onto the slightly younger man.

“...sure,” he nods, albeit a little reluctantly, unsure of what exactly he was agreeing to. he hopes he’ll get a chance to steal a kiss from you, but for now, he figures it best to go along with whatever bakugou was about to suggest.

“whoever can make princess here cum the most in five minutes each can fuck their cunt,” he begins, just for shouto to interrupt him.

“and what of the loser?”

“i was getting there—impatient sonuva bitch….” he mutters the last part under his breath like he wasn’t also an impatient sonuva bitch. “anyway, the loser—in this case, i’m sure it’ll be you, y’fuckin’ virgin cuck—can…. fuck right off and watch,” he finishes, cock twitching deep inside you at his own words. he was absolutely positive he’d win the little proposition he’d struck up, which is why the punishment for the loser was so harsh. when in all reality, if he was feeling kind enough, he’d let you suck shouto off as a consolation prize. ….maybe.

“sounds good to me,” todoroki agrees to bakugou’s conditions, feeling his own dick twitch as he steels his nerves—he was so fucked. in this moment, shouto’s never been more grateful for being a fast learner, as that was his only chance at possibly succeeding in such a task. he wasn’t particularly familiar with the afab body, and so he has to actively recall all the porn he had seen—mind you, he was incredibly picky about what exactly he’s watching—when suddenly an idea strikes him and he’s asking katsuki to move his hands so he can pull you off his cock and reposition you so your back was against the bed.

you and your husband are both confused until shouto’s pushing your thighs apart and nestling between them, icy lips kissing down your body until he reaches the mound of your dripping cunt, and you can’t help but get shy—not because you weren’t used to being eaten out, no (katsuki often ate you out until you couldn’t see straight), it was because you just simply were not expecting that from the inexperienced shouto todoroki! but it’s okay, just take a deep breath and—

“aa–aah! fuck! shouto!” you cry out, caught off guard by the way his full lips wrap around your erect clit and begin suckling on it, his freezing tongue moving to swirl around it as he does. he doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing and is more or less figuring it out as he goes based on your reactions and moans.

katsuki is just as taken aback as you were, but for totally different reasons; this was probably one of the last things he had expected todoroki to do, but, but, but…!!! fuck! he couldn’t even be mad about it either because he was the one who had decided to turn it into a competition. shit. okay, whatever, he’d just work around this.

“nngh–!” one of your hands comes to run through shouto’s split hair, tugging the soft locks gently. “wh–where the fuck did you—aah! hhngh!—learn h–how to do this?” you ask breathlessly, looking down at the man between your legs, and you feel a chill run down your spine and goosebumps erupt over your skin when you realize he’s looking right back at you—staring at you intently, doing his best to gauge all your little reactions, both verbal and physical.

katsuki can’t help but agree with your question, because seriously, where the fuck had he learned this shit!?

all he’s able to do, though, is watch with awe as shouto focuses wholly on his attempt to eat you out — which he was seemingly doing a good job at — as one large and calloused hand subconsciously comes down to jerk himself off slowly, thumb swiping over his bright red, leaky tip, and he hisses out a quiet fuck while your back arches off the bed.

shouto, however, doesn’t answer, in favor of bringing a heated finger down to your slick entrance — gently prodding at it before slipping it in with ease.

“mmmffgh,” you whine as he curls it up slowly, all while sucking on your throbbing clit, and it doesn’t take long for a knot to build up in your lower stomach. “nngh– sh–shouto!”

he simply ignores you as he begins to slip a second finger in—gradually heating them up as he did—and you moan pathetically as your husband watches on in awe, his mouth horribly dry and dick achingly hard, and for a moment, he’s scared he might cum to the sight of another man eating his spouse out—so he intentionally slows his pace to something almost painfully slow to make sure he doesn’t prematurely ejaculate, wanti—no, Needing to cum inside you.

starting to scissor you apart now, you clench around shouto’s burning fingers desperately, whining as his freezing right hand comes up to pinch one of your already stiff nipples.

“nngh–!” it’s not long before you’re cumming with a loud cry of shouto’s name while pulling at his soft hair, back arching deeply off the mattress as katsuki lets out a growl at the sight, already seething with envy….. whatever; he takes in a deep breath to calm himself down and slowly starts to increase the pace at which he’s jerking himself off, groaning softly as he does.

todoroki doesn’t relent in his pace, however, messily eating you out throughout the duration of your orgasm, resulting in you cumming a second time not long after.

“nnngh—’s too much, shouto—” you choke out, pulling at his hair while trying to push him away at the same time. “f–fuck!” it had maybe been two minutes, meaning you had to endure for another three. but how exactly were you meant to do that? with the way he was all but making out with your cunt, you turn your attention to katsuki, pathetically mewling for help—just for him to shut you down! reminding you that you agreed to this and that he knows you can take it.

the most your husband had ever made you cum in one night was four times—a record he was gunning to beat tonight.

by the time shouto’s time was up, he had managed to make you cum three times, on his way to working you up to a fourth, before katsuki’s letting go of his dick and burying his thick fingers in todoroki’s hair, yanking him away from your pulsing heat.

“hey—” shouto pants breathlessly, lower face covered in your slick.

“time’s up, icyhot,” your husband rasps out before asking you how many times you’d cum.

“th– three, but— i need a break before we keep goin’,” you tell him, panting heavily with flushed cheeks and teary eyes.

katsuki simply nods in acknowledgement, untangling his fingers from shouto’s hair as all three of you take this moment to catch your breath. then, after a brief three or so minutes of rest, bakugou’s crawling on top of you as shouto watches on this time, cock leaky and painfully hard as he palms himself through his horribly tight boxers while katsuki kisses you.

“love ya, kats,” you’re able to pant out, and shouto feels his heart break a little; he wishes he could be on the receiving end of those words some day... but for now, he shifts so he’s kneeling on the bed, legs tucked neatly under him with his thighs spread wide enough for his heated left hand to sneak past the waistband of his boxers in order to grope himself.

bakugou smiles against your lips at your words rather than returning them, and his tongue slides out to poke its way into your already open mouth, easily licking over the insides of your cheeks and grooves of your teeth.

as he watches the two of you makeout, todoroki begins to reflect on his kiss with katsuki earlier, and he finds himself yearning to hear those three little words from him, too, or to be able to kiss you as well….. maybe when this is all said and done… maybe he can work up the courage to ask to join your relationship..? or maybe he’d leave early in the morning full of shame…. he isn’t quite sure yet.

“mmngh—” you moan softly as one of katsuki’s large and calloused hands trails down your side, moving to cup your puffy cunt, before two thick fingers easily insert themselves into you without much of a warning—fortunately, you were still soaked from your slick and shouto’s spit from where he’d eaten you out so good, so your husband didn’t meet any resistance when scissoring you apart. “k–katsu–!”

“yeah?” he pants as his cock drools uncomfortably. it’s okay. he’d just have to make you cum four times in five minutes, and—the idea that shouto might beat him at a challenge he proposed due to your fatigue from allowing that icyhot cunt to go first suddenly flashes in his mind, and he’s hardened over with a certain resolve he’d allowed to slip in his overwhelmingly horny state of mind.

“i— ah! hnnngh— ‘m still se–sensitive,” you whine out, arching your back off the bed at the stimulation, and it’s all you can do to pull at his hair when you feel the calloused pad of his thumb press against your swollen, oversensitive clit. as the fingers almost knuckle-deep inside you press into your g-spot, you go crosseyed from the combined feeling of being finger-fucked and having your tongue sucked on (when’d he start doing that!?).

katsuki, however, ignores your weak mewls in favor of kissing you so hard your teeth clack together briefly before he’s tilting his head for a better angle and nipping softly at your tongue, causing you to squeak in surprise.

rolling your hips up and grinding down against his hand, desperate for more fiction, shouto watches on in awe and horny amazement, taking notes on how your body reacted to katsuki, hoping he could imitate his actions, or develop them into his own, next time he got the chance.

soon, though, katsuki’s five minutes come to an end, with you only having cum twice by his doing—something that makes his eye twitch as he realizes that meant icyhot would get to fuck your cunt. ….goddammit! he’d gotten too caught up in the feeling of your lips against his to focus fully on fingering you! sure, he was just about to bring you to your third orgasm–but! oh, this so wasn’t fair! if only he’d gone first! then you wouldn’t have been so worn out!

shit. with a sigh, he pulls away from your body as his eye begins twitching and he looks over to shouto—who currently had his hand wrapped around his cock—and lets out a huff.

“there’s no way i’m letting him fuck you,” he grunts out, crossing his muscular arms.

“kats, that’s not— ‘s’not fair,” you chide him, panting heavily and sitting up on your forearms. “you said— said the winner—” your cheeks flush as you remember the words he’d used and you shake your head to clear the thought from your mind. “...could fuck me—you wouldn’t wanna go back on your word, would you?”

shouto’s heart rate increases as you stick up for him, and he feels the extra blood circulating throughout his body go straight to his throbbing dick as his eyes light up with hope—never in a million years would he think he’d get the chance to have sex with you!

“mm, …fine,” katsuki agrees, salty he’d lost at his own competition, but willing to do whatever to make you happy, so… he almost retches a little at the thought and he feels his heart break in his chest ever so slightly, but… if staying true to his word and letting that half n’ half bastard fuck you would make you happy, then…. he guesses he can let it slide…

with that, shouto’s shifting onto his knees a little more in order to slide his boxers down his well-toned thighs so his pretty cock can slap against his lower tummy and he’s quick to grab you by the hips, pulling you towards him before katsuki’s words cause him to pause.

“not so fast, icyhot, if you’re gonna fuck ‘em, then they can at least suck me off while you do,” he growls, moving so that he’s behind you and then manhandling out of shouto’s grasp so that you were facing him. “get on all fours, sweetheart,” he instructs you, and you obey with a nod, presenting shouto with your ass and drooling cunt and he swallows thickly at the sight.

his hands plant themselves on your hips once more and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips—you were glad shouto would at least get a chance to enjoy himself, as you’re sure he probably doesn’t have many good stress relievers, if any at all…

with that in mind, you make sure to arch your back nicely for the man on his knees behind you as you take your husband’s dick in one hand while supporting your weight with the other and press a little kiss to the bright red tip before slowly taking it into your hot mouth.

katsuki hisses out a groan at the feeling of you hollowing your cheeks as you gradually take him down to almost the base, your hand wrapped around what doesn’t currently fit in your mouth, and swallow thickly around him.

“shit—” a hand is quick to bury itself in your hair to guide your pace as shouto’s jaw slackens in the slightest before he gets a grip and starts to align his swollen and leaky tip with your creamy pussy, moaning much louder than he was expecting to at the feeling of your warm, gummy walls wrapped around his virgin cock. suddenly, whatever metaphorical grip he did have immediately slips away from him as his physical grip tightens to an almost painful extent, and you’re sure he’ll leave bruises in the shapes of his fingertips—similar to the way your husband so often does.

“aa–aah! fuck!” todoroki whines as he takes his time bottoming out—biting his tongue as he pushes into you almost agonizingly slow, causing you to moan around your husband’s dick, resulting in him pushing your head down further against him and your pussy to flutter around the poor, overwhelmed shouto.

you nearly gag as his mushroom-headed tip hits the back of your throat, but are able to suppress your reflex to do so well enough to remove your hand from around him while you focus on breathing through your nose as you take him down to the base, until your face is flush against his pelvis, light blond pubes tickling your nostrils slightly.

you try to stay that way for as long as possible, swallowing around him continuously to fight your own gag reflex rather than out of consideration of his pleasure, but it’s only been a few seconds when you’re fighting against his strong palm to come up for air.

after pulling off him with a disgustingly wet pop! and panting heavily, you make the suggestion that the two should kiss again — arguing that if your husband is just gonna offer your pussy to be fucked without asking you, then the least he could do was makeout with the man balls deep inside you.

“what?” katsuki barks out, looking down at you, with your head between his thighs.

“please, ‘tsuki?” you ask nicely, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

shouto wants to join in with your pleading—to ask katsuki for a kiss, too, but he knows better, knows your husband will begrudgingly cave to your demands and that he’ll ultimately receive another kiss.

“tsk… fine—c’mere, icyhot,” he grunts, one hand pushing your head back down onto his dick as the other reaches for shouto. both men lean over you in order to lock lips, and the younger one can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips as he gets what he wants.

todoroki’s hips press flush against your ass as he leans over your sweaty, overstimulated body to makeout with your husband. god, you weren’t, like, …a fujoshi or anything, but…. something about the idea of katsuki and shouto going at it in particular had your stomach in knots and cunt clamping down snugly around shouto’s girth.

“jesus—” the half and half man pants at the feeling of your pussy, and he honestly doesn’t know how he’s managed to go this long without it. ….or if he’ll be able to live without yours specifically from here on out…… okay, it’s decided. he’d ask to join your relationship, somehow, when this was all said and done, but for now he isn’t sure whether to focus on his kiss with katsuki or the feeling of his dick throbbing almost painfully inside you.

ultimately, his attention is drawn to the way bakugou nips harshly at his lower lip—enough to draw a small amount of blood—and a moan gets caught in shouto’s throat, coming out as something more akin to a whimper instead; something that certainly makes katsuki’s ears perk up. had todoroki just fuckin’ whimpered from something he had done? for a reason other than getting pussy for the first time in his stupid virgin life? needless to say, it quickly goes to bakugou’s ego as he begins sucking on shouto’s lower lip, tongue swiping over it quickly at first, and then a second time that was considerably slower and more teasing in nature.

poor shouto can feel himself going cross-eyed as he ruts into you sloppily, heavy balls smacking against your clit, and he knows he won’t last long like this at all. he’s kinda bummed he can’t …make love to you the way he would prefer, but right now, he doesn’t find himself picky at all—just grateful to be a part of this entire thing, even if he may not get the chance again in the future. that’s why it was critical for him to be present in the moment, literally drooling from how good he feels, as he uses his quirk on his tongue while swirling it around katsuki’s, the now freezing muscle licking over the insides of his cheeks and grooves of his teeth, sending a chill down your husband’s spine.

the saliva being exchanged between the two begins to dribble out from the corners of their mouths and drip down their chins and onto your arched back. holy shit. you nearly choke on katsuki’s dick at the feeling of their spit rolling down your spine and you moan in both disgust and twisted pleasure.

“nnmgh,” you moan, tongue pressed flat against the underside of his dick as shouto drills into you. now it’s you who finds themselves drooling profusely, your spit running down katsuki’s cock, soaking his balls.

the blond can feel himself throbbing down your throat and he groans from the combined stimulation of you blowing him and shouto’s icy tongue—he’s close and he knows it. …meaning that half and half whore was definitely about to cum, with the way your pussy is surely milking him for all he’s worth.

“shouto,” he grunts out, pulling away just enough to tell him that if he’s gonna cum, then he has to pull out—that katsuki was the only one allowed to cum inside you.

todoroki was more taken aback by the usage of his first name from bakugou of all people, and it’s all he can do to nod and mumble a quiet yeah.

it’s not much longer before both mean reach their climax around the same time—with shouto pulling out to jerk himself off for a few more seconds and he’s cumming all over your back with a loud cry as your husband cums in your mouth, thick cum spilling down your throat, past your tongue, not even giving you a chance to taste him.

after both men catch their breath, katsuki slowly pulls you off of him as he gazes down at you with a particularly soft look in his eye—or maybe it’s satisfaction, you’re too fucked out to really tell.

“y’okay, princess?” your husband rasps out, grinning to himself at your teary eyes, one hand cupping your cheek, and you blindly lean into his warm touch.

“mmhm,” is all you can hum in response, borderline brain dead from how many times you’d cum tonight—clit still throbbing from the earlier stimulation.

“good….” he directs his attention to shouto, but doesn’t ask him anything, instead looking him up and down, eyes lingering on his dick for a moment longer than he’d like to admit. he quickly redirects his gaze to shouto’s heterochromatic one, and the softest, barely there smile tugs at the corners of his lips. it was so small and brief, one might think they were hallucinating had they seen it, but todoroki catches sight of it, and he wants to say something, but finds himself speechless; so instead, he leans in to kiss your husband again, and, very much to his surprise, he doesn’t immediately recoil. given, he doesn’t lean in to meet him either, but he does kiss him back as you shift to the side, panting heavily while you watch the two muscular and domineering men go at it for the nth time tonight, and you can hardly believe your eyes.

one hand slips down in between your legs as they kiss, rubbing gently at your sensitive bundle of nerves while shouto takes the initiative this time, running his now heated tongue over the seam of katsuki’s lips before licking into his mouth, but moans quietly when the usually angry, but now somewhat calm, blond begins sucking on the hot muscle, one hand coming up to almost cradle the back of shouto’s head as he buries in fingers in his two-toned hair, pulling at it roughly.

“y’know icyhot, you’re really not that bad at this,” he tells him, which is the closest to doling out praise he’ll ever get.

shouto, however, takes this to heart as a soft smile pulls at his lips and suddenly he finds himself cupping katsuki’s face and knocking him onto the bed, clumsily clamoring on top of him, and your jaw genuinely drops at the scene in front of you. holy shit.

“yeah?” shouto breathes from on top of katsuki, who was just as shocked as you were, if not moreso. what the fuck? how the fuck? what was he meant to do? he looks over to you for an idea of where to go with this, and his eyes widen when he sees you touching yourself to the sight of them. …alright, he supposes he can get behind this.

looking back over to shouto, he replies: “sure, ..but i’m better,” and easily manages to flip the pair so that he was on top instead.

“nngh–” you moan as softly, your free hand coming to grope one of your tits, pinching and tweaking with your already erect nipples. you don’t know if you can handle another orgasm, but the sight of the pair in front of each other is simply too hot to not jerk to.

shouto, meanwhile, wraps his arms around katsuki’s neck as he pulls him in for a disgustingly sloppy and heated kiss, lips parting by themselves as he cranes his neck upwards. similarly, he moans as well, tongue already seeking out katsuki’s while you fondle yourself and slowly work yourself up to one final orgasm.

nipping at his lower lip the same way he’d done to shouto earlier, katsuki retaliates by pulling away from the kiss to bite at his neck — even going as far as to suck against a few particular spots, leaving hickeys to bloom in the place of his mouth. for a moment, the idea of jerking shouto off crosses his mind, but that would be going too far for bakugou.

you, however, encourage this behavior, telling them to put on a show for you as you try not to cringe at the feeling of shouto’s cum drying on your bare back.

so, it’s shouto who finds himself reaching for katsuki’s dick without a second thought, and he heats up his hand a bit to tease the poor blond (there is nothing poor about that man…), causing him to hiss in a mix of surprise and pleasure.

“shit—you’d think you would ask someone before just grabbing their dick,” he grunts out, making shouto chuckle a bit at his words.

“sorry,” he says simply, thumb running over the leaky slit of his mushroom-headed tip, and he really, really wishes he could suck him off…… christ. maybe… maybe he should ask? you were the one who told them to put on a show after all..!

shouto ultimately decides against it, though, too embarrassed to do so, and instead settles for jerking katsuki off slowly and with intent.

“nngh–” bakugou nearly whimpers—not that he’d ever actually do something like that, obviously—and he pulls at shouto’s hair, dick still sensitive from the way you’d sucked him off so good a few moments prior.

it doesn’t take too long before katsuki finds himself cumming sooner than he’d like to admit, biting down on shouto’s neck in order to cope with the stimulation from his former classmate and fellow pro-hero.

you, too, find yourself cumming rather quickly, back arching off the mattress as shouto slows his pace to a halt, pulling his hand away and licking katsuki’s cum off it while making full eye contact with him—something that, shamefully, turned both you and the blond on.

you two would have to have a very serious discussion after this about how to move on from here, but for now, the two men turn their focus back to you, finally worn out for the night. katsuki easily shifts to lay next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as shouto moves to get off the bed and go back to his guest room where he’d lay awake for the rest of the night—until he hears you call out for him softly, inviting him to sleep in your bed for the night; something katsuki doesn’t protest against, too tired to do so—and even if he did, his heart wouldn’t be in it. unfortunately, he very much enjoyed his time with the two of you tonight, and might seriously have to entertain your future request of letting shouto join your relationship.

in the meantime, however, shouto abides and comes to lay on the other side of you, flushed and sweaty body pressing against your back as your chest smushes against katsuki’s significantly warmer one, and you’re quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat and shouto’s steady breathing.

return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST | S. TODOROKI M.LIST

895 notes · View notes

junicult · 2 years ago

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Could you write about what it’s like when the bachelors and the farmer decide to try for a baby? Either the conversation they have about it or when they actually TRY 😉. Or both… No pressure tho! I love your work!

!! trying for a baby with the bachelors.

contains ; fem!farmer. nsfw! fluffff <33. talk of children / pregnancy. mostly talk, not much smut. some smut in harvey’s, sam’s, & alex’s. farmer wears a dress. breeding kink. not proofread! i’ll add more tags later & i apologize this is a bit rushed :,

harvey.

- alright so i basically talked all abt this on my last post,

- but i’ll happily elaborate further.

- first of all, this man dreams of being a father.

- he’s always wanted to be one, and may i just say he’d be the best father?? hello???

- if u don’t agree ur lying.

- so i wanna say the topic of children was first brought up when you were only dating.

- “would you ever want to have kids one day?” you ask, and it wasn’t so blunt that he was blindsided, but he was still a little taken aback by the question.

- standing next to you in his kitchen, mixing breakfast on the stove while you sat on the counter.

- he only looks at you for a sec, because ever the overthinker he is, he’s afraid he’ll say the wrong thing.

- “yes, i do. one day.” he feels the need to specify, before looking back down at the pan to avoid eye contact.

- he doesn’t see your smile, or the way you softly chuckle at his action.

- “me too. one day.”

- and now he feels beyond excited. so excited that he starts to grin without even realizing it.

- i feel like that’s as far as the conversation went for now, you changing the topic to breakfast and starting to get plates together while he displayed it all.

- but ofc the thought would always stay in the back of his mind.

- bc now, when you’re married and it’s actually clear that you would want him to be the father of your child, it’s easier to have the conversation without feeling worried abt rejection. for him, at least.

- i feel like it happens one night after work, and you’re both a little exhausted and just want to be together.

- ur all clean and full after showering and eating together, just spending time w one another before u finally finish up ur tiring day in bed.

- “do you want to try for a baby?” you ask.

- my fav part abt all of this is that u always ask at the most unexpected times.

- but he’s not as shocked this time around, cus he was literally thinking the same thing.

- “do you want to?” lmfao.

- “i do. i think we’re ready.”

- say no more, cus he’s absolutely ready.

- i mean, he’s literally been ready for the last like 15 years of his life so…yeah.

- i mentioned this my last post, but i’m gonna say it again. to really get the message across.

- ur married to a doctor. ur abt to try for a baby with a DOCTOR.

- ur not just gonna fuck until you make a baby. unfortunately 😞

- he’s gonna help you figure out ur ovulation schedule. and if you aren’t for a while, obviously you’re not just gonna stop having sex, but you’re not going to be actively trying as hard until you’re ovulating.

- and when u finally aarreee 😊😊😊

- tehehehe.

- imagine he comes home from spending like the entire day in the clinic, and he’s so tired and all he wants to do is be with you.

- like he’s literally spent the last three or so hours thinking about burying his face in the crook of your neck and just holding you.

- so picture his excitement when you finished up your work super quick, made dinner, and you tell him ur ovulating liikkeeeee.

- suddenly he’s forgotten all about his annoying day.

- his arms wrap around your waist, lifting you ever so slightly to meet his height while your lips are already molded together.

- try to tell me he wouldn’t lift u bridal style to take u to the bedroom. just try.

- hands softly running up and down your body underneath your layers of clothes, kisses trailing down to your neck and collar while he piece by piece helps you out of them.

- “love these lips, these cheeks, these ears,” he whispers all the while emphasizing each feature with a kiss.

- he’s so handsy, and he won’t let you hear the end of his praise.

- prep prep prep prep prepppppps you.

- he’s so grateful to be able to have you like this, ofc he’s going to make the most of it.

- plus, statistically, a female orgasm increases the chances of pregnancy.

- it wouldn’t hurt to up the chances by giving you a few, now would it?

sam.

- for sam, being a father wasn’t really something he spent so much time dwelling on.

- like, it’d just be a passing thought in his mind before he fell asleep,

- occasionally wondering what it’d be like to have a wife and kids, but not something he’d want to act on for at least a few years.

- he never found himself thinking about that kind of stuff, until he met you.

- and sure, you were both young, but the more he spent time with you, the longer he fell in love with you, the thought would continue to pop up way more often.

- he started to really think about it after seeing you interact with vincent.

- how his little brother would come running into your arms the minute you knocked on the door, excitedly latching onto you as his way of saying hello.

- “hey kiddo, how’s it been?” as if you didn’t see him literally yesterday.

- but that doesn’t matter, bc the way you ruffle his hair, entertaining his all-over-the-place conversation without even a hint of annoyance—makes sam feel all sputtery inside.

- it’s like vincent would be your main priority until he finished up telling you whatever it was he wanted you to know, and then you’d turn and greet your boyfriend with a small kiss on the cheek.

- like sam was secondary to the rest of his family, bc not to mention, you were also a sweetheart to jodi.

- vincent absolutely adored you. he’d always bother sam about you, asking when you’d come over or if he could tag along on your dates.

- i feel like his breaking point (if u will) was when he came home from work one day to see all three of you in his kitchen.

- his mom was teaching you how to make some special dish, and you had vincent propped on your back so he could watch.

- “sorry! i forgot you were working today but jodi just told me to wait here, and we kinda lost track of time.” you justify, face pinching in worry at his silence.

- that’s the exact moment it all clicked for him.

- he stayed dreadfully quiet while jodi finished up teaching you, and each moment you were growing increasingly worried.

- it wasn’t until you finally had alone time, and you immediately started gushing apologies when you stepped into his room.

- “i’m so sorry, sam, i didn’t mean to make it awkward for you, but your mom wanted to show me something and i was excited to learn and i dunno, i just forgot about—“

- “i wanna get married to you.”

- gn.

- you just blink back in awe, unsure of how to respond bc WHAT a bomb to drop rn.

- “…you do?”

- “so bad. i love you so much, i really want to be your husband.”

- so of course you ask him, “where is this coming from? i thought you were mad at me?”

- he just cups his hands on your cheeks, shaking his head. “are you kidding? how could i ever be mad at you spending time with my family?”

- and when he realizes you didn’t say anything, he goes all quiet and he’s like, “…do you wanna marry me?”

- duh.

- and so the topic of kids doesn’t follow long after, when you both mutually agree you want them, but at least not for a while.

- neither of u act on it until like a year after u get married.

- “vincent was asking about you. says he misses you and wants us to come over for dinner soon.” sam says, recapping his day while you wash your body beside him.

- btw, i like to think he waits until whenever u need to shower to shower with u.

- why? idk.

- anyways,

- “i’ll go visit him tomorrow. i miss the little guy,” you giggle.

- for him, he misses the way he’d see you interact with his little brother. how sweet, and kind you were. how you’d always include him in things, and despite him being a child, you didn’t really treat him as one.

- sure, you knew better then to say certain things around him, but when it came to all of you being in the same room together, you made sure he wasn’t forgotten about.

- he knows you’d be a great mother.

- “i wish we had a baby.” he blurts, a little frown on his face as he rinses the soap out of his hair.

-“really?”

- it’s not like it’s a foreign topic, but it’s still a little unexpected.

- “yeah! they’d have your hair and my eyes. with your cheeks, and cute nose.”

- he’s so cute i’m sobbing.

- you can’t help but grin at him as he goes on about how many kids he wants, and what they’d be named, and how they’d look.

- “yeah, i know vincent has jas but how cool would it be if he had another little buddy in town?”

- “i didn’t think you wanted kids yet?”

- “well, that was a year ago. we just haven’t really talked about it since.” he shrugs, and you can’t help but kiss his cute, rosy cheek.

- so from now on, ur gonna try for a baby🫡

- it’s definitely not as thought out as harvey.

- yeah, u guys are just gonna fuck until it works LMAO.

- but dare i say, you’ve never enjoyed sex like this.

- you’re all hot and sweaty, naked, hair clinging to your neck and staggered breaths all over his lips.

- “nggh, fuck, sam—feels s’good…” moaning into his mouth while he does the same, hips meeting yours at a eye-rolling pace.

- he’s already came twice, hardly enough energy to even bring himself to a third but yet somehow, here he is, fucking into you like he knows no better.

- and he won’t stop sputtering just pure filth in your ear,

- “mmgh—y’so pretty, so perfect. you’d make the prettiest babies.” “what are you doing to me? nnfuck, feels so, so good…”

- your fingers are feathered through his hair, arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close.

- you’re already so sensitive and overstimulated by the time he cums. you both are.

- so while he catches his breath, he’s holding you close and staying buried to the hilt inside of u.

shane.

- :,).

- i feel like it’s his little secret that he’s always wanted to be a father.

- but he never thought it’d happen for him.

- and after he met you, first of all he was shocked you liked him back.

- and as time progressed, and you’ve helped with his alcohol addiction, he’s really found that he fell in love with you.

- spending all this time together, despite you being so busy.

- you always make a way to fit him into your schedule, whether it be he comes over and helps you with some of your chores, or you meet him at the saloon.

- but as time progressed, and you were both were absolutely infatuated with each other, he couldn’t stop thinking about marrying you.

- but more importantly…having kids with you.

- i think, generally, he wants to be a good father, which is why he’s always kinda wanted kids.

- he wants to try to be there for his child, and wants to laugh with them, help them when they need it, watch them grow up and stuff.

- he wants to be able to nurture someone in a way he wasn’t really able to do for himself.

- but also, he’s a little possessive🤷‍♀️

- it’s sick, and gross, but the idea of you walking around with a pretty, swollen belly and everyone gets to know he did that. well.

- and he just knows you’d be the most amazing mom. with how you care for your animals, and you’re such a hard-worker…he’s gonna lose his mind.

- so yeah, despite him thinking about it constantly, you’re still the first to bring it up.

- “…can we talk about something?”

- instantly, he’s nervous. he feels like ur gonna break up with him or something.

- “a-about what?”

- you’re in the middle of washing dishes, so you use that as an excuse to avoid eye contact.

- since you’ve been dating for many months now, long past the point of exchanging “i love you”‘s and even closer to the inevitable possibility of marriage.

- but to make it this far and find out he doesn’t want children like you do, well that would be the most painful way to end things.

- “what are your thoughts on…like…kids?”

- he blinks.

- “kids?”

- “yeah, kids. like…children.”

- he’s quietly scratching the back of his head, trying not to let confusion paint across his face but yet here he is, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted.

- “i—i dunno. they’re pretty…cool? i guess? i like them…”

- he’s just staring at you, trying to read your expression in any way to figure out what the hell u are bringing this up for.

- he’s even more confused when you just nod instead of giving him an answer.

- “is that all you wanted to talk about?”

- it takes u another like 5 minutes to finally swallow your fear, and flicker your gaze to him.

- “no, i just…well i wanted to know if you’d ever be interested in, like, having kids….of your own—in the future! not now, or, whatever.”

- he thinks ur so cute.

- the way you’re purposely angling your chin down to hide your face, and despite the fact that you’ve already cleaned the same plate like seven times, you still continue to scrub it.

- he has half a mind to laugh a little, but he knows that’s only make you feel more nervous. so he just smiles quietly to himself, looking at you.

- “hmm, having kids?” he sighs, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms like he’s in deep thought to agonize you teasingly.

- “well, considering i have jas in my life, yeah. kids aren’t so bad.”

- the puppy-dog look you give him finally has him chuckling.

- “you’d want kids?”

- “yeah, someday. but you know, having kids is kind of a two person job.“

- now it’s your turn to giggle, fixing your gaze back towards a new dish you grab to clean.

- “oh, is it?”

- “mhm. they’re hiring, too. but not just anyone can apply.”

- “what’re the requirements?”

- he gently wraps his arms around your waist, pressing against your back and lowering to rest his chin on your shoulder.

- “hmm, we’ll they’re looking for someone who’s perfect.” he presses a kiss to your cheek. “have i told you you’re perfect?”

sebastian.

- much like sam, he didn’t really spend time thinking about fatherhood.

- it wasn’t something he dwelled on hardly, if not ever.

- he had other things to focus on, and unfortunately he didn’t really think that’d ever be a part of his future.

- and it didn’t change right when he met you.

- he really liked you for a long time before anything even progressed (nerves, i guess?)

- but eventually, you were steadily a very good couple.

- spending lots of time together, going on dates (more like ponder sessions by the rivers and beach but whatever) and just overall the early stages of falling in love.

- he’d come visit at the farm and wouldn’t leave for days. even when he told himself he needed to, it’d take him so long to actually leave.

- he spent so much time thinking about you too, that of course his mind began to wander.

- what would marriage be like, first of all.

- it didn’t take long before he decided he liked that thought. coming home to you every day, waking up with you by his side.

- his city dreams weren’t so important to him anymore. not if it meant leaving you behind.

- now, as for children,

- he didn’t spend much time thinking about it for a while. it was mostly just a passing thought in his mind.

- kinda like sam, you two definitely discussed it before getting married but it was a short, “if we decide we want to someday,” and that was about it.

- i feel like sebastian is a little possessive, too.

- he loves the fact that he’s married to you now. that he’s legally tied to you and he has a reason for wanting you all to himself some days.

- the longer you two were married, however, he had to get used to his mom’s constant remarks.

- “you know, i did build a nursery in her house, sebby. just something to think about.” robin grins in passing convo.

- which he can’t help but cringe at what his mom is implying, but he guesses she has a point.

- so as he got older, he started to think about having kids a lot more.

- because, yes, being married to him does kinda scream off limits.

- but wouldn’t having a child be even a much better indicator?

- how there’s actual living proof that sebastian is yours and you are his.

- yeah, he’s gonna be thinking about it a lot.

- “honey, are you okay? you’ve been really quiet today.” you wonder softly, wrapping your arms around his back where he laid with his face pressed against your chest.

- you know that sometimes he just likes to be alone, and it has nothing to do with you, it’s just his own personal preference.

- but he’s not usually like this. clingy, latched onto you tight while he’s lost in his thoughts.

- “hm? oh, yeah i’m fine baby. don’t worry.”

- you frown at his vagueness. “you can tell me anything. need me to step out? i don’t mind, sebby.”

- he loves u sm.

- “no! no, it’s nothing like that,” he even accentuates by squeezing you a little tighter, “i’ve just…been thinking.”

- “about…?”

- you feel him shrug, but he moves his face to bury into the crook of your neck, so you can’t see him.

- “i dunno, just like…us. i guess.”

- 😑

- “…okay…”

- and now ur kind like, sitting up to move away from him, and he’s not having that.

- he frowns, once again tightening his hold on you and burying himself deeper.

- “nothing bad, i promise.” he murmurs into you.

- “then what is it?”

- you never want to pressure him to tell you what’s on his mind, but when he’s like this, you feel like you deserve to know a little.

- he only answers with hesitation, taking long enough before you frown and squint your eyes down at him.

- “sebastian, if y—“

- “i wanna have a baby.”

- lol.

- now it gets real quiet.

- you freeze, hand pausing midway through his hair. you can almost feel the significant change in the atmosphere.

- “…what?”

- “i know we haven’t really talked about it lately, i just think it’s something we should talk about.”

- he keeps his face hidden away from yours, despite you attempting to look down at him.-

- but, if he was looking at you, he’d be able to see the smile on your plump cheeks, and how you were suddenly wrapping your legs around his torso.

- “i was thinking the same thing.”

alex.

- okay, so for this one,

- i feel like it’d be 50/50.

- one half of me says he’d never want kids.

- he saw the man his father grew up to be, and he despises him because of it.

- it scarred him enough to mess with his relationships with past women, definitely gave him commitment issues for a long while.

- so he never wanted to be a father. he can’t picture himself as one.

- but the other half of me says the opposite.

- he’s a man, who knows what it’s like to live with an abusive, absent father.

- and despite him still being kind of young, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d never treat his child, or even his wife like how his father did.

- almost like he’d want to prove people wrong.

- like, not all men end up like his father. most of them can actually become loving, supportive fathers and husbands.

- that’s the side of him i like to think abt most 😇

- but, i do wanna say though, when he met you, he didn’t really think that deeply about you.

- sure, he really liked you and how sweet you are. you’d always spend time with him, and make him feel better whenever he was down.

- most importantly, however, you weren’t shy to put him in his place if he ever said anything offhanded.

- you taught him a lot, and that’s when he really started to fall for you.

- it didn’t take long to confess his feelings. he likes being bold like that, and rejection doesn’t scare him.

- after you told him you reciprocated, he was instantly excited to call you his girlfriend.

- evelyn and george already loved you, (maybe evelyn a little more openly,) so accepting you into the family was a very easy task.

- he’d talk about you constantly. he’d find any opportunity to steer the conversation to you, and run with it for as long as they’d let him.

- and don’t get me started whenever he’s with you.

- he may act all tough, and above-it all the time, but i can promise you:

- whenever you’re alone, he’s just a big baby.

- smushing his face into your chest, wrapping his arms and legs around you so he could take a nap.

- and he loves when you’d lay like that, brushing your fingers through his hair and telling him about you day so he can just listen to your voice.

- now, that being said: i feel like he’s not scared to talk about wanting children with you.

- it was probably a conversation early on in your relationship, he just steered clear from stating he’d like you to be the mother of his child.

- “yeah, i’d love to have kids one day. babies love me!” kinda thing.

- and the longer you two were dating, and the more serious and committed it became, he was all for letting you know what was really on his mind.

- “you’d be the most perfect mom. our kids would be so smart, and gentle. plus, with our ridiculously good looks—unbeatable.” he grins, pop kissing all over your face as wraps his arms around you.

- behind your fit of giggles, you can’t help but counter, “please, alex, i need get back to work!”

- and he’s reluctantly sending you off to do your job, spending the rest of his hours making himself busy at home until he can repeat it all over again when you finish up at night.

- despite him talking and thinking about it so often, much like the rest of the guys he won’t act on it until you’re actually married.

- probably like a month after you get married he brings it up, but not like he used to.

- “hmm, what do you say about making a baby, pretty?” his fingertips slide through your hair, cupping the side of your face.

- he can’t help but place one calloused hand to your bare stomach, pressing down just slightly to watch the way your eyes pinch and lips part.

- his hips were stilled, cock buried deep inside of you after minutes of teasing you.

- “nngh? whaa—“ you’re hardly coherent, head lulling into his palm the moment he begins his slow drags in and out of you.

-“aww, you’d look so pretty carrying my kids, dontcha think? let’s make it happen baby, please?” “we wanna baby, right? c’mon, we’re ready. now’s perfect.”

- he’s gently nipping at your cheek, kissing down your jaw and neck to hear you whine on top of the way he’s pressing against you.

- “c-can’t, t’much,” you whimper, eyes rolling the minute his hips snap and his pace quickens.

- “yes you can, i know you can.” his voice is breathless and low in your ear, “why don’t you let me cum inside, hm?”

- his sweet gaze has your head spinning, lower lip puckered and wobbling.

- you’re so overstimulated even the slightest movement has your body twitching, throat swelling.

- yet somehow, you’re still bringing yourself to nod slowly while he grins above you.

- “yeah, knew you’d like that.”

elliot.

- he’s absolutely ready to be a father.

- it probably didn’t become something he actually dwelled on until he got older, but yeah, he’s absolutely ready.

- when he met you, not to say it was love a first sight but…

- it was love at first sight.

- he quickly became well acquainted with you, and spent much time with you.

- whether you were at his cabin, or he came to visit your farm, it didn’t matter.

- it didn’t take long before you started dating and fell in love.

- he’d find himself thinking about you at his desk instead of writing.

- or lying awake at night, missing you beside him and eagerly awaiting the morning when he could go and see you.

- he’d spend so much time picturing what it’d be like to have you as his wife and mother of his children.

- the topic of kids was definitely early on.

- “i’d want three. two girls and a boy. he’d be the youngest.” he hums, taking a bite out of a pomegranate you had just given him a few minutes beforehand.

- “yeah? three, huh?”

- he smiles, nodding.

- “well y’know, if she didn’t want three, then i’m fine with however many.”

- you were sitting on the foot end of his bed, while he sat beside you.

- “hmm, no, three is fine. i’m sure she wouldn’t mind three.”

- “you think?” he licks the fruit juice off his thumb behind his grin, before leaning back against the headboard.

- “oh, i know.”

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localplaguenurse · 1 year ago

Note

Now I come into your ask with my usual deranged horniness//HIT

You've done the wifey seeing their past self bc ley line anomalies but consider.... wifey meeting past Morax

Do I want wifey to be sandwiched by Morax and Zhongli and this is my excuse? .....Maybe

wasxdfcghvhjbj but fr imagine past Morax being like, so this is life after winning the archon war (or even retiring from archonhood) hmmm and being so smitten with wifey like damn future me scored I want them <3

(Wifey can barely handle ONE Morax let alone two)

This has not been beta read. Also read prev leylines fic for context because I'm treating this as a part two.

Few mortals travel to Guili Plains these days. It's been a few decades since blood was last shed here, as it's been a few decades since the end of Liyue's Archon War. By now, new plant life has already begun to prosper, though the land still bares noticeable scars.

You're fortunate enough that your body is still youthful, if only because the body of a twenty-one year old can walk off a rough trip better than a fifty-three year old's. The grass is lush enough that any old cuts in the ground are obscured, making for some pretty frequent tripping hazards. You're glad you wore your painting attire, as it would kill you to get grass and mud stains in your nicer clothes.

You've talked with Morax a handful of times about Guili Plains, notably if he was comfortable with you or your children exploring it as you know this place holds a lot of his memories, good and bad. He has told you he is okay with you exploring, so long as you're careful and let him know when you'll be back. You've yet to have any issue with his conditions, save for maybe being careful, but it's not your fault that there are so many hidden cracks and gashes that you always stumble at least once when you visit.

Picking your various pencils and brushes up out of the grass, you look up and pause.

Of course you recognize the figure ahead of you, resting next to a large boulder. What shocks you, though, is the state he's in. The white of Morax's cloak is stained red, as is the tip of the polearm propped up next to him. You freeze up, a hand covering your mouth, before you quickly make your way over to him. What is he doing here. Why is there blood? How much of it is his? What happened?

"Morax?!"

His head snaps in your direction, and something about the harshness in his face stops you in your tracks. He's never given you this look, not once. You've seen him upset and angry but not like this. He stands up, and when he steps forward, he towers above you.

He tilts his head, and though he seems irritated over your intrusion, he also seems... confused?

You snap out of it and step forward, grabbing one of his arms. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He pulls his hand back immediately, taking a step back. He stares at you, almost bewildered, before a smirk cracks across his face.

"Aren't you a bold little mortal..."

The growl in his tone sends a shiver up your spine. You open your mouth to say something, but then you absorb his words.

Bold little mortal.

You two have been married for going on thirty years now, and have had a brood of five children now. He doesn't refer to you as a "mortal," but by a slew of more endearing pet names. Not only that, but he's never taken an almost patronizing tone with you like this.

It clicks.

This isn't your Morax.

Well, not yet. You have a flashback to the incident at the monastery, where you had comforted your former self. To have Morax first and foremost not recognize you, but also refer to you as a little mortal is indication enough of this. Not only that, you can see he has fewer scars on is body, and the ones he does have seem fresher. Whatever happened at the monastery is happening again.

Morax leans down, seemingly amused by your bewilderment. "Hm? Oh, has the cat caught your tongue, or however you mortals use that phrase? You were so confident in approaching me, so what's changed?"

You clear your throat, and you consider how you want to phrase this explanation. I mean, this is just a memory of Morax, seemingly. You don't have to interact with him, but you also want to.

You figure it's better to get this out of the way.

"I'm your wife."

"..."

Morax tilts his head back and quite literally roars with laughter. You feel it thundering in your chest as he hollers. He wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling, before he grins down at you.

"You are quite possibly the most confident or most foolish mortal I've yet to meet," he says, "and I truly must thank you. I haven't heard a joke like that in years."

You sigh, turn around, and move your hair away from your neck to expose the mark he left there. "I don't quite know how to explain this," you tell him, "or why you are here, but you're a younger version of my husband, and I am your future wife." You let your hair back down and turn to him. "W-We got married near the end of the Archon War, and you claimed me maybe a year later."

Morax looks you over, analyzing your attire, your figure. He circles you, like a wolf sizing up its prey, taking in every detail of your appearance.

"While I admit that you are a rather pretty little thing," he purrs, "I hope you take no offence when I ask why I would marry a mortal woman."

"There's a small village, it's maybe a week's travel north from Mt. Tianheng," you explain, "it has an even smaller monastery. It has an orchard full of ginkgo trees and a shrine dedicated to you. There's a seal put in place to keep the village safe from demons and the Archon War."

Morax pauses.

You continue. "The shrine was broken, and since I was shrine caretaker, the blame was put on me. My abbess..." You look down at your feet. "My abbess gave me to you as payment to fix the seal... You... You would later on kill her for mistreating me all my life."

"... How?"

"You turned her to stone," you say, "and then shattered her body like pottery."

"Hm... I admit, that does seem like something I would have done," he says, "and your knowledge on the shrine lends credence to your story. Still, I have difficulty believing you could be my little wife."

"Why is that?"

He chuckles. "You're very small compared to me. Most mortals have difficulty handling my... form, so I highly doubt you would fare well..."

You blush, but find yourself chuckling with him. You cross your arms. "Considering I've given you five children, I think I handle you very well."

It's Morax's turn to be surprised. "Five...?"

"The last pregnancy was twins," you tell him. "We have two sons, three daughters. They called you baba, and some of them still do. Our oldest, Yānjiáng, calls you father nowadays."

"You gave me... five children?"

"I can show you the stretchmarks."

Morax's face is void of emotion as he considers your words. He stares at your face, looking for any sign of dishonesty or perhaps delusion. Surely, you must be delusional, approaching the Warrior God like this, with no fear and claiming to be his future wife and mother to his five children. He doesn't find any, which is even more bewildering.

After a moment, he smiles. There's still something slightly mocking to it, as though he thinks you're lying, but there's a softness to his expression as he regards you.

"You weave an interesting and truly unbelievable story, little mortal," he states, lifting you chin with clawed fingers, "though I must admit, I'm intrigued. I suppose I will have to find you in the future to see if your story holds any merit."

Morax leans down to kiss your forehead. When his lips disappear, so does he, along with his bloodied polearm. You touch your forehead, and still feel his lips lingering on the skin.

The encounter leaves you with artist's block, simply unable to focus on recreating the scenery. You gather your thoughts and things, and begin to head home. You weigh in your head if you want to tell your Morax about the encounter, if he'll believe you at all. You know he trusts you, but that's still a strange claim to make.

... You're definitely going to ask him to do the growl voice more, though.

#ask #as gold as the ginkgo trees #crys!#zhongli x reader #morax x reader #i am so sorry this got long #beta's gonna kill me-

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abbyslev · 2 years ago

Text

𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺- 𝑨𝑶𝑻 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳𝑺 + 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬

A/N: hi babies!! its my birthday, i’m 19!! so scared to be 19, like i feel so old and ugh turning 19 is such an accomplishment for me. thank you all for everything!! i hope y’all enjoy this bday special angels!! ily all!!

WARNINGS: suggestive in yelenas!

HANGE

literally plans everything out weeks before

has every gift you have ever wanted

remember that shirt you literally eyed at the store three years ago? YEAH IT'S YOURS NOW

bakes you a cake the night before and fails

its okay because levi and erwin dropped off a cake before you woke up and saved hange’s ass

you wake up to kisses and cuddles <3

they can’t hold the excitement in

shoves a bunch of gifts in your arms and watches you open them while rushing you

“babe this one next!!! no, it has to be this one specifically!!”

takes the day off and calls off for you <3

already has breakfast set up and you guys share a slice of cake

you guys take a walk by the lake and hange buys you two a giant cookie to share

you guys watch some ducks swim for a while they go on a rant about tonight

“i'm throwing you a mini party!”

hange sets up while you get ready because it’s your day to relax and take your time!!

when you come out of the room hange’s mouth drops

HOW COULD THEY SCORE SOMEONE AS BEAUTIFUL AS YOU???

all the guest arrive and hange inspects the gifts before setting them on the table (they’re very nosy smh)

erwin and levi bake the cake pt. 2

lots of wine and food!

connie starts a karaoke and sasha joined

birthday sex in the bathroom (oops)

once the party is over hange gets you dressed for bed while peppering your whole body with kisses

they even take off your makeup for you <3 :(

birthday cuddles

the next morning hange helps you open even more gifts and helps you clean up :)

MIKASA

has this shit planned since she was born

treats you like a princess the night before

bath, candles, skincare, a fancy dinner, everything

wakes you up softly and hands you a velvet box

the prettiest fucking necklace you have ever seen

there’s also a basket on the foot of the bed with everything you could ever imagine

YOU BASICALLY SOB BECAUSE HELLO??

she sits there smiling so hard bc she just loves you sm

makes you crepes and she made some strawberry cake

takes you shopping around town, just wants to spend the day with you <3

small picnic

okokokok she helps you get ready for your dinner party!!

she made a reservation with all your friends at your favorite restaurant!

the dinner was amazing and she made a whole toast and everything

and the end SHE GETS ON ONE KNEE

BEST FUCKING BIRTHDAY EVER HELLO

armin’s in the corner ab to piss himself like you and mika getting mARRIED??? YES???

ofc you burst into tears mika has given you the whole world how could you not say yes to her

best birthday ever UGH PLS SHE SO BABY STOP

ANNIE

she’s so sweet

probably gets you some simple gifts

she’s a simple girl OKAY

makes you a nice little breakfast in bed and you guys cuddle, eat and watch your favorite show

she gets ready with you as always

she got you this cute, flowy dress !!

little walk downtown, takes to you to brunch

as always, she pays <3

spend the day setting up for your bday dinner!!

she makes sure you enjoy your night with all your friends

pieck made you a cake

connie’s hand slowly creeped towards your head to push it against the cake

annie gave him those eyes

connie preferred to keep his arms so he didn’t push your head <3

at the end of the night annie helps you get into bed

SHES SO SWEET

she's complimenting you and kissing your ear softly like SOFT ANNIE IS SO

sleeps with her hand in yours <3

SASHA

BAKES EVERY FUCKING DESERT THE NIGHT BEFORE

has connie bring y’all the best breakfast in town

breakfast in bed

she gifts you a lot of perfumes, sweaters, basically everything you had ever wanted

she gets you this really pretty dress too!!

takes you over to connie’s to get a tattoo you’ve been wanting for a while <3

connie gives you a gift w a smirk

“I spent years looking for this gift!” “Sasha picked it out, didn’t she?” “What? NO!”

you guys have lunch together <3

she’s so sweet the whole day

posting you on her story 5 billion times

yes, she posted the embarrassing pictures too

connie and jean also post very embarrassing pictures of you but shhhhh that’s ok

you guys have a small party!! connie offered to host <3

sasha’s by your side the whole time excited because it’s YOUR special day !!

can’t stop staring at you and smiling fr

she baked a cake and everyone else brought something to eat!!

her cake was 10/10

chocolate w strawberries in the middle <3

you two go to bed so happy that night like sasha so overwhelmed and you just love her sm LIKE UGH

YELENA

she forgets tbh

until someone posts you on their story

she’s like OH?

lucky she had a gift for you anyway, she had a feeling she needed it for something

it was a dainty, pretty gold bracelet

“good morning, birthday princess.”

tbh no celebrating just birthday sex all day

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generalkenobitrash · 4 months ago

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spoilers for the season finale of s2

i really don't think i will watch s3. nothing makes sense anymore. there were some good moments, there were more than some of bad ones. i must say that alyn's actor (abubakar salim) is so, so good and corlys really deserved the shit alyn gave him. i was really thinking that they would make alyn continue to be loyal despite growing up the way he and addam did, but i am glad to see that he has his own reservations about it, especially now that addam is a dragonrider. aemond is so fkn stupid fr. calling helaena 'sister', reaching out to touch her arm, saying they're of one blood after probably scaring her to death in front of their mother, only to say that he could have her, HIS QUEEN, killed for saying he was going to die. i liked daemyra's reunion, even though it felt kinda stupid for daemon to realize his loyalties only after seeing the future. i think that should've happened much sooner and because he remembered that rhaenyra is the woman he chose to marry, to defend and fight for. he crowned her. anyways. simon strong is a real one. sara hess and ryan condol are utter idiots. wtf was the scene between larys and aegon? i literally facepalmed. and what the fuck were they on when they decided to drag out the tyland in myr scenes? god they were so fucking useless. still, i do think the scene between gwayne and criston was okay, mostly because it explored some themes that are important to them (chivalry, honour), but the writing was soooooo boring. i do hate that the writers think they can just swap around nettles and rhaena. like i said in my rant about the previous episode, rhaena didn't need to become the rider of sheepstealer, when morning holds SO MUCH importance to the story post-dance. and not to mention, it was so stupid of her to cartoonishly shrug off the duty given to her by rhaenyra. those boys are basically left alone with the several knights. i don't know what i was expecting when basically half the episode was already leaked. the second secret rhaenicent meet-up was fkn stupid as well. rhaenyra sassing alicent was nice. her being a bitch (which was kind of within her right) was truly nice. i do kinda like that she's a flawed character now. referring to jaehaera as 'helaena's child' hurt me physically. i still hate that the writers didn't let helaena grieve. jaehaerys died for basically NOTHING. alicent still talking fondly about viserys aggravates me. the music and cinematography was great (except the cgi monkey and three-eyed raven). the shots of the dragonseeds getting ready, together with all the different armies marching (and sailing) was cool. sheepstealer's design is cool ngl. really shitty for rhaena's story this entire season has been setting her up as sheepstealer's future rider and she doesn't even bond with it in the season finale. but hold on a sec. has otto been in the dungeons in the red keep this entire time???? i fr thought he just refused to come back bc he was tired of this shit. anyways, i still think the blockade is a little stupid. king's landing's main source of supplies is the reach. spices, salt and other fancy stuff is what's mainly coming in through the narrow sea. i actually stuck around to watch the inside of for ep8. abubakar and steve talking about their scene together was so good. tbh ryan condal looks so disinterest in the show that HE'S making. so yeah. good luck waiting another 2-3 years for, quite possibly, another messy season.

#house of the dragon #alicent hightower #hotd #criston cole #daemon targaryen #hotd spoilers #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #corlys velaryon #hotd critical

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kikisfuneralservice · 2 years ago

Text

KIM JONGHYUN BF HEADCANONS

always wanted to know what kim jonghyun is like as a boyfriend? your questions have been answered…

includes nsfw content‼️

*ALL CONTENT IS PURELY FICTIONAL AND NON-ASSOCIATIVE WITH ANY OF SHINEE OR SM ENTERTAINMENT- PURELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES!*

FLUFF:

the two of you make time for each other whenever you can no matter how busy you are

he prefers to stay inside a lot of the time bc he just likes being with you

he does enjoy a good party once and a while tho

ALWAYS wants to bring you to EVERYTHING

he wants to bring you to everything SO he can talk to you the whole time and it’s like?? what was the point of this again? cuz u two are just kinda in the midst of the crowd shouting and laughing at each other with drinks in your hands

drinking competitions def

he knows he won't win but he loves to drink so he’s happy LMFSDFOS

won’t force you to do things either but likes to encourage you to get out of your comfort zone every once and a while

probably was in a chess club in high school

in some niche club or some shit that he wants to rekindle the fire in so he gets you to do some random ass shit like skiing

and he knows everything about it it’s rlly strange for some reason but also embarrassing for you bc u can tell he’s alr a pro and ur just flopping around

also an avid fan of ice skating LOVES THE HOLIDAYS OH MY GOD

every year it only gets more exciting for him? and like he is, he brings you along for it

is a gift giver

he gets you very thoughtful presents yet he never expects anything back and you try ur goddamn hardest but the only thing he wants at the end of the day is you with him

will be sitting in a chair in ikea and go, “this is the chair i’ll sit in when im eighty years old, i think”

“yeah but ur chair is better than mine”

“i live in luxury, y/n, it’s a lifestyle”

he is one of those bitches that u have to ask him not to bring home a new dog every single day

you already have like 3 of them bc he bought one from the shelter and the other 2 he found on the side of the road and begged you to take in with him

ur lowkey worried every time he asks u to pull over on the freeway bc u fear it’s another dog

(it wasn’t a dog—it was a cat tho)

so now u have 3 dogs and a cat

not that ur complaining

the honeymoon phase goes on for at least two or three years and then it goes straight to old married couple and there’s nothing in between those

also doesn’t like going to bed without solving problems first

he will quite literally stay up for four more hours if it means resolving it before going to bed angry

he just doesn’t like being angry

it doesn’t suit him anyway

teddy bear

he like holds ur face in his hands cuz he likes just gazing into ur eyes cuz he’s stupidly in love and he likes to place singular kisses on your lips so they’re not peppered but they’ll just be singular kisses maybe tries to sneak in there a little just loves holding u he loves u

giggles n touching and u both are kind of just under a blanket just in underwear or some shit and his skin is warm and soft

you love just being on him and feeling him close to u :(

same for him :(

“honey you have this mole on your back”

“jjong-“

“no it’s cute”

“it’s a birth mark?”

*grabby hands*

giggling and sliding his hands downnnnnnnnmmnnn

just laughter and giggles and moving his hands into your pants pls he knows u like it🧍

and you grab his wrists and are like :)

and he’s just :3 n kisses u like what!!

SMUT:

u come outta the bathroom and see him sitting in bed under the blankets in all of his glory what a beautiful man and he looks up at you like :) hey

he’s just so relieved to see you at the end of the day that’s all

you practically DIVE into bed and he laughs as you practically throw your body over his

and he’s rushing u to get under the covers before the cold monsters get you

he likes to wrap his arms around u and kiss ur cheeks everywhere ur forehead top of ur head just peppering everywhere he’s just so happy to see u :(

likes pressing the both of your foreheads together so he can look u in the eyes and then giggle when it gets too quiet

ahh he just likes holding u in his arms even if it’s just your head on his chest just any physical contact is all he wants

when he gets touchy he always ends up kissing u,,, once,,, or twice,, and then again,,, and again- and then ur on top of him and he’s holding you firm in his arms feeling him sigh into your mouth

just loves making out honest to god he lives for you and the noises you make out of satisfaction and the lip smacking it all makes him excited

it’s getting a little too hot and heavy but he still giggles once and a while and u two kinda chuckle at each other once and a while 💀

likes holding your waist as u sit down on his lap and then down to ur ass to touch

he kinda sits up so the two of you are closer and then rolls u over so you’re under him and both of u are kind of heaving for breath but it’s ok bc he loves seeing your chest move up and down for breath and parted lips

just likes necking honestly he likes leaving hickies too just to get you riled up. nights like these where it’s easy and you can feel his lips smile on your skin

running his hands through his hair as he lifts ur arched back up to lay in his arms

and glances down to see ur small panties🙄

he’s like oh and is like ok nvm get on me rn

just wants to feel you get wet in your panties juuuuust for him

likes that satisfaction but also likes seeing u breathily moan out his name

both of ur underwear is wet tho so all’s well and ends well

just the feeling of him growing underneath you and poking at you through your clothed body

he doesn’t want u to take them off tho

so he kinda just moves them ovveerrr

and he’s like they’re just too pretty baby let me fuck you in them please

lifts you by your waist and turns you over so you’re facing the bed but your ass is up

you can look back at him and it’s so contradictory seeing literal hearts pop out of his eyes in adoration for you but something else is also popping out

really likes just to be able to hold onto your hips

also reverse cowboy/girl

ass! ass! ass! ass! ass!

will ask if he can smack your ass bc pls pls pls god

wants to smack them while you wear your panties he just likes seeing them jiggle bye

he just likes touching so he has his hands theyre kneading into your ass, your thighs, your tummy, your chest

is a tactile learner

a bit of a hands on guy

for my afab folks god he loves boobs tho

likes playing with them bc he knows he’ll get a reaction from you

unrelated kind of a side note

i feel like he likes the vibrating panties too. doesn’t really care for public action either he just likes having you in front of him seeing you in pleasure

just likes seeing you hold onto the bed frame as you call out his name for him to help

and he always delivers

also will grab you by your thighs bc he wants you to sit on his face

doesn’t care how much u weigh yadda yadda yadda just sit on his face so he can fuck you with his tongue and suffocate

holds onto your thighs while doing so

likes to leave you shaking

he likes tasting u but doesn’t always go straight to it

so he’ll leave kisses maybe on your inner thighs,,, to around you, maybe leave kisses before putting hisbtongueinnnn

HE TRAILS THE KISSES UP AND TEASES U HEHEHEH

if he’s holding you he’ll always be rubbing your back

just likes touching your skin

he’s he’s he’s so soft abt it too

like so gentle in caressing u

and he goes to grab you to tickle you💀

just laughs and runs his hands through your hair

let’s you go wash up and then come back to cuddle :/

always likes being big spoon he loves holding you

send tweet

---

TAGLIST: @keyloml, @jjongolese, @taeminscheesetouch, @dayskz, @jonghyuns-husband , @taeminscult1, @taeminspussylips

OK SURPRISE! this is very unexpected i am aware BUT i just realized that i hadn’t done jjong yet for these! and with that we are done with the bf headcanons! please let me know if you’d like any more future hcs, and you know i will deliver. thank you all again to those who are enjoying my content!

- anne <3

#shinee #shinee fics #shinee hcs #kpop #kpop hcs #kim jonghyun #shinee fluff #shinee smut #kpop fluff #kpop smut #jonghyun fluff #jonghyun smut #jonghyun hcs #headcanons #jonghyun fic #shinee jonghyun

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darkestspring · 2 years ago

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imagine that alicent's kid left with rhaenyra when she took her family to dragonstone when harwin was sent back to harrenhall, and only came back to side with luke about inheriting driftmark. during the years she was gone, rhaenyra let her pursue whatever studies interested her, so now kid (maybe her name can be aemyra? like, viserys named her after both aemma and rhaenyra) basically has a college education, and is skilled in swordsmanship since she wanted to learn to defend herself.

alicent is proud that kid is so accomplished and skilled, but pissed bc that's *her* child, *she* should have been raising them in the keep. and why would they ever need to wield a sword? they're far too delicate for that! what if they hurt themself??

to make matters worse, they seem especially close with jace and baela. the three of them always touching somehow -holding hands, brushing shoulders, leaning against each other-, why would her baby be so close with rhaenyra's bastard like that? AND WHY DID SHE HEAR THEM CALL RHAENYRA "MUÑA"???

sure! her name can be aemyra! i have so many thoughts about all of this. rhaenyra realizes at the same time as harwin leaves that alicent is far too dismissive of her youngest sister and asks her father in private to take her in as a ward and viserys, overjoyed by the idea, agrees instantly.

alicent, of course, contests it relentlessly. she doesn't believe her child should be away from her but aemyra goes with her eldest sister happily. aemyra slowly heals from all of the scorn she received from her grandfather and brothers and learns to open up.

"You can learn anything you want, sweet girl." Rhaenyra had told her, running her hands through aemyra's hair softly. "Anything you want to do and become, you want do it."

those words stick with aemyra as she grows up, a strong and intelligent princess. aemyra refused to go to the funeral on driftmark, unwilling to see her mother or brothers again. Rhaenyra had understood and aemyra wasn't shocked when they returned with baela, rhaena and daemon. she stood with baela as daemon and her sister married.

i think alicent would wait and wait for letters from aemyra, as would aegon and aemond but only one letter is ever sent and its to helaena, staating how she misses her dearly and sending her some bugs she found of dragonstone.

aemyra grows closer with jace, luke, baela and rhaena but especially baela and jace. they're always together, always chatting and telling jokes and stories.

alicent doesn't see her against until the claim for driftmark. rhaenyra insists that she could stay if she wished but aemyra wasn't scared anymore. she was skilled with a sword and her mind as sharper than ever, she would not abandon rhaenyra in such times.

alicent sees her daughter dressed in black in red walk in arm in arm with jace and she does not even spare a glance at her mother or siblings, staring directly ahead or over at jace. it hurts but alicent knows better than to say something in the presence of viserys.

aegon and aemond both attempt to gain their sisters attention at dinner after she enters with jace and baela, laughing gently at something they said. she doesn't even look at them as baela and jace glare at them.

"a toast." Aemond rose his glass as he stood up, his eyes locked on his sister. "To my lovely sister who has returned to us from a place she should not have gone."

aemyra doesn't touch her glass as she stares at aemond with an emotionless look as everyone else raises their glass. "I do not think myself lost, brother." She hums, leaning into baela. "I am exactly where i want to be, with my family. the one that actually cared."

alicent, aegon and aemond all flinch at that and aemyra smiles triumphantly at that while daemon snorts into his cup.

#yanmom rhaenyra #aemyra targaryen

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cowboylikeyouu · 16 days ago

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For the WIP game, No Other shade of blue but you, please!

oh my, i completely forgot the wip game ahahah sorry for the wait, here you go:

i started working on this THREE YEARS AGO???? it's not even THAT long, but i always forget it exists for like 6 months before writing another 1000 words and then forgetting it again.

the premise is basically: steve & tony had a Thing™ during that period when pepper & tony had broken up, but then civil war happened and yeah. pepper & tony get back together, get married, have morgan, endgame happens as usual BUT: instead of tony, pepper dies. which is. . . cruel, i know, but hey, she was canonically part of the final battle so in theory she could've been the one to get the stones & do the snap lol. anyways, then it's just a lot of depressed tony taking care of morgan and refusing to accept help, until he caves in and calls up steve one day and yeah, then they have their very very slow getting back together arc, while they're raising morgan. there're gonna be a lot of shenanigans with other characters bc tony's slowly letting other people back in his life, so it's actually just gonna be a shit ton of avengers family feels. i also have a fully planned out winterhawk spin-off to this fic lol. idk if i'll ever finish writing it tho, i have about 15k and most of it was originally written in german. i DID translate it and i wrote some of the later stuff in english, but i'm still SUPER unhappy with it. i love my german writing SO MUCH, but it tends to lose its flow when i translate it :/

here's a small excerpt, the grammar might suck as well, my english skills were even poorer back then than they are now lmao

Steve ignored his words and pulled out a burner phone instead, placing it on the counter next to Tony. Only one number was registered in it. Tony paused momentarily and regarded the phone with an unreadable look before swallowing hard and turning back to his plate. "Haven't we been through this already, Cap?" He said quietly as if his voice would fail him if he spoke louder. The movements of his hand holding the sponge became increasingly erratic, and Steve couldn't stand it anymore. Without thinking much, he put one hand on Tony's arm in an attempt to soothe him and stop his movements before using his other hand to carefully pull the plate from his clenched fingers and place it on the towel next to the sink. This time, Tony didn't even try to free himself from Steve's grip. "Maybe you're gonna use it this time," Steve responded and pushed the phone a little closer to Tony with his free hand. Tony looked up from the phone to meet Steve's eyes, a sad smile on his lips. "Well, I'm sorry, but I don't think you and I were on such good terms the first time," he said, even more quiet than earlier. Brown eyes that stirred so much more in Steve than he would ever admit stared into his, and for a moment, it felt like 2016 all over again. Like the time when Pepper and Tony had broken up due to personal reasons, the time when Steve had spent his days in Tony's building and his nights in Tony's bed, wasting time on kisses and sex and late-night promises. Like that brief, dreamlike period when everything had been okay for a few months. The calm before the storm that the Sokovia accords brought to their lives and their relationship. Then Tony looked away, and the moment shattered. Steve found himself back in the present, where Tony and Pepper were no longer together because Pepper was simply no longer there, where the peaceful intimacy existed only in memory, and where the events in Leipzig and Siberia and the months without contact that followed continued to stand between them like an impassable wall. Steve didn't regret siding with Bucky at the time. He didn't regret wanting to protect his best friend, who had returned after seventy years, he’d do it again without thinking twice. But he regretted the naturalness with which he had thrown away Tony and all they had in the months before. He regretted more than anything not giving a rational thought to find a compromise that would allow him to keep them both in his life.

send me more asks about my wips if u want !!

#amy talks #my fics #stony #wips #wip #my wip #stevetony #tony stark #steve rogers #iron man #captain america #fanfiction #author #writing #my writing #ao3 #marvel fanfiction #stony fics #fic ideas

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callsign-magnolia · 1 year ago

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Alright,

I have another ask and it’s ridiculous, but it’s bc I love you!! This time it’s a different Dagger, it’s sweet baby boi Bob.

Reader & Bob have been together for 3-4 years, taking it slow, especially with Bob being an aviator and Reader being a high school teacher. But after dropping hints, now comes the question of popping THE QUESTION. What they don’t know is that both of them were planning a proposal for the same day: their anniversary. What they doesn’t realize is that the other one is proposing, so it becomes an accidental double proposal

Ah! A Bobby request! I love this so much!

"Do you even give a man a ring when you propose?" I asked my mom on the phone. "I don't see why you can't? I think he'd like a simple gold band." She said and I sighed, looking down into the jewelry case. "Can I see that one?" I asked and the woman and she nodded, handing me the simple gold band. "You really think he'll like it, mama?" I asked making sure she could see it. "I think he will." With that I bought the band and had them engrave it. I couldn't pick it up for another few days, but that was okay. Our anniversary wasn't for another week.

Once I got home Bobby was in the kitchen. "Hey, get all your errands done?" He asked and I nodded, walking over and wrapping my arms around his waist. "I did. I was in the mall and passed that one jewelry store." He hummed. "The one that has the ring you like?" I nodded. "Yes. It wasn't there anymore." I was a little sad about that. I haven't been able to find a ring like it online. It was an in store exclusive. "Find anything else you like?" He asked and I shook my head. "No, I was looking at men's wedding bands. You said you'd like a gold band right?" I asked and he chuckled and nodded. "I did." He stepped back and I let him go before he backed me into the counter. "You'd marry me if I asked?" He asked and my heart sped up. "Are you asking?" My eyes met his bright blue ones and I could see the love within them. "Not yet, honey. Not yet."

I picked up the band and kept it in my purse, not wanting Bobby to find it if he does laundry or anything. "Now, how many of you knew that Harriet Tubman led the Combahee river raid?" I asked and no one raised their hands. "Well, she did. She led one hundred and fifty-" I was cut off by a knock on the door. I opened it to find Maria, a girl from our front office with a huge things of roses in her hands. "These are for you." She said and handed them over. "Thank you." With that I turned back into the bedroom. "Who are those from? A secret admirer?" One of the girls asked. "No, they're from my boyfriend. We've been together for three years today." I said and many of the girls 'awed'. "Wait, you have a boyfriend?" One of my boys asked. "Yes, I have a life outside of this classroom. Now, back to the lesson!" I said, directing everyone back to the board.

That night I slipped on Bob's favorite dress. A little back number with off the shoulder sleeves and we made dinner together. A tradition we've had since we got together. It was our first date because we were both so broke at the time, we couldn't afford to eat out and he said McDonald's wasn't romantic enough for me. He fed me some of the ravioli and I moaned. "You are an amazing cook, Mr. Floyd." I said and he chuckled before wrapping his arms around my waist, kissing me. "Why thank you. Ready to eat?" He asked and I nodded. He pulled out my chair before grabbing our plates and I poured our wine. The first few minutes were quiet and I couldn't stand how nervous I was anymore. I reached into my purse that hung on the back of the chair. "Bobby." I said as I pulled out the box, holding it out of his line of sight. He looked at me and I could see something on his face that I couldn't read. "I have something I wanna ask you." I said and he held up a finger before swallowing his food and sipping on his wine.

I saw him shift something in his pocket before he stood, walking over to my side of the table. "I also have something I wanna ask you." I stood to meet him. "Let me go first." I said and he nodded. "Bobby, I love you. So much. More than I thought I could love any one. You are the man of my dreams and I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else." I took a deep breath before pulling out the ring box and opening it. "I was wondering if you'd marry me?" I asked and he stared at the box for a minute before laughing. I furrowed my brows, confused before he dropped to one knee before me. "I guess you beat me to it. You are the most amazing woman I have met. You're kind, loving and strong willed. I knew I wanted to spend my life with you after our first date, just felt a little crazy to propose then. But, will you do the honor of becoming Mrs. Floyd?" He asked and I laughed as a few tears fell. In the box was the ring I had been eyeing for the last year in the same jewelry store that I bought his ring. "Yes." I said and he stood, slipping the ring onto my finger. He reached for his but I held it back. "You didn't answer my question." I said and he chuckled. "Yes, honey. I'd love to marry you." I slipped his ring on before he pulled me into a searing kiss. "Great minds think a like huh?" He asked, making me laugh.

Celebrate 500 followers with me! Send me an ask with an aviator and an idea and I'll write it! 🎉

#ask away #you ask #kay answers!#KayKay's 500 follower celebration

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zmwrites · 1 year ago

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I think I need to know everything about Kell. Please go off.

MY BOY!!!!

ok so Celyn "Kell" Dyer is the oldest 26 year old you've ever met

(he was named Rhys in the WIP intro, but the name didn't work as I started to write so I changed it)

his parents are Arthur Dyer (very successful merchant) and Lilah Trenowyth (merchant ship captain), who were together for many years but never actually married. their relationship ended amicably shortly after Kell was born and Arthur went on to marry Duchess Aldreda after her first husband died. Lilah is still a ship captain and is often away from the Duchy for that reason, living her best life.

when Kell was young he'd split his time evenly between his parents and so knows his way around a ship. on a particularly rough voyage he was seriously injured—he badly broke his right arm & right leg, and sustained a major head injury. there wasn't any way to get him medical attention on time so the bones healed wrong and cause him pain on a daily basis that he takes fancy painkillers to manage. he also gets headaches & migraines easily from the concussion.

fun fact: he's an avid swimmer bc it's one of the few exercises he can do without causing himself pain! this will come in handy later!

(oops this got long. under a cut the rest goes!)

Duchess Aldreda was his step-mother and loved him as her own, but didn't grant him a title per his father's request. when he was old enough, she gave him a voting seat on the Lords' Council, which is honestly the same amount of power as a title but without the land holding. she was injured in battle about a year before the book starts and died two weeks later.

Duchess Eliora was his step-sister and classmate, as they learned politics and tactics and whatnot side by side for their entire childhoods. Eliora was injured in the same battle as her mother and spent a year out of the public eye, her step-father Arthur acting as regent (he hated it and wasn't very good at it, he's a businessman and a father but not a ruler). they thought she was getting better but then she suddenly died.

and now his half-sister Anwen has become Duchess, though she was never supposed to be Duchess and wasn't given as thorough an education. one of Aldreda's advisors (Thomas Ravenswood, formerly named Ezra but got a name changed when I started writing) has been trying to get her up to speed for the past year just in case, but she doesn't have any political experience.

understandably, Kell is Stressed about this. he lost his step-mom and his half-sister a year apart! and now his baby sister is in the same job and is facing all sorts of threats! their neighbour the Vaedian Empire is gathering forces at the border! several of the Council members are trying to manipulate Anwen for their own gain! at least one of them has already betrayed her! he takes his role on the Lords' Council very seriously and invests too much of his self-worth into it (HINT: this will be relevant later).

everything that Kell does is carefully considered and thought out. he's pessimistic, something born out of searching for the worst in situations so he can make contingency plans. he's meticulous about public perceptions and how things could be interpreted. he's smart and so, so protective of Anwen, sometimes to the detriment of others and himself. the other members of the Council want his influence removed so they can manipulate Anwen, since he and Ravenswood are basically the only people looking out for her and Ravenswood doesn't have a voting seat.

and then Jane bursts into his world, and everything goes to shit.

she's SO rude to him the first three times they meet. she's a thief that's been brought into the Lords' Council by a newly returned war hero, so he can't publicly question her presence, but he is already imagining how it could go wrong. she's stubbornly hopeful and refuses to give up even when all logic dictates they should. she can't keep her mouth shut and doesn't care about social rules.

she's literally his worst nightmare.

and then she's drafted into the group trying to find priceless historical artefacts that will supposedly save their asses when the Vaedian Empire invades. (she was a homeless THIEF three days ago, why does no one else question her inclusion here??).

and then they're trapped in an underground labyrinth together, with no known exit, a cave monster, and five trained soldiers who want to kill them for supporting Anwen. with no food or water. and no pain meds. and he fucked up his leg evading the rock collapse that trapped them. and now they have to run everywhere.

anyways i'm very excited to see how Jane influences his personality and what he does when he stops planning five steps ahead in every possible direction.

#zoe replies #just jane

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pennylanewrites · 3 years ago

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chapter 1 ※ why won’t you love me?

playlist: spotify link

pairings: eren yeager x fem!reader, eren x mikasa

genre: angst, smut

word count: 3.1k

cw: marijuana use, eren and reader are complete assholes, infidelity, semi-public oral(f.receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, a lot of dialogue

a/n: hiiii! this is the first chapter of my eren series, the fic title and the chapters’ titles are all 5sos lyrics bc if you didn’t know, i have to include 5sos in everything <33 enjoy and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for upcoming chapters <33

part two // back to masterlist

Your hand fell on the mattress, on top of Spiderman sheets that used to always make you chuckle. Now they just left a bittersweet memory of their owner. You thought you'd meet another open palm, but the weight on the right side of the bed shifted until it was off completely. Turning to face the wall, you shut your eyes and wrapped your arms around your naked torso.

The sound of footsteps on carpet, the flick of a lighter, a cloud of smoke. A pair of tattooed, rough arms around you.

"Don't fall asleep here."

You sighed and pushed the man off of you, rolling to the side of the bed to retrieve your tossed clothes. An index finger tapped your shoulder, making you flinch. You shrugged him off and got dressed quickly, despite your sore legs.

"Is she coming over?"

"What? Oh, huh- yeah."

"You should change your sheets then." He looked back at his bed, chuckling at a small pool of liquid that was slowly drying off. "Eren?" You called his name from the door of his bedroom.

"Yes, baby?" Your heart ached at the nickname he gave you as his piercing jade gaze fell on your face. Bottom lip trembling, eyes watering; just like everytime you left the apartment that you sneaked into through the emergency ladder.

"This was the last time."

"I know."

You both knew it wasn't the last time. Maybe Eren was more sure than you were, his slight grin giving him away, but after all, you always came back to him. Every time faster than the one before.

This time it was no less than five hours, no more than six. Connie and Sasha's party made it impossible for your paths not to cross; and it didn't really help either that you and Eren had been best friends since the moment you were born.

Eren, Armin, Mikasa and you. Always together, never apart for too long. From your parents teasing you and Eren that you'll marry, to forming a sibling bond in elementary, to finally realizing he's a boy in middle school. The only issue there was that Mikasa had realized that too. She beat you to confessing, on your high school graduation day, her and Eren made it official quickly; maybe too quick. Because what Mikasa didn't know -and Armin suspected- was that you and Eren had shared innocent kisses, one too many make-out sessions that ended with promises to be best friends forever.

Best friends became friends, then acquaintances, then friends again. Then, on New Years Eve, three years after Eren and Mikasa got together, Eren came knocking on your door, crying in your arms about her, about their relationship, his feelings. His feelings about you. And then you were kissing him. And the new year found you lain in bed together, a blanket covering your tangled bodies, along with a horrible, ugly and raw disgust. For yourself, and for him. How could you do this to your best friends, how could he do this to his girlfriend?

“You there?” Eren snapped his fingers in front of your face. Your eyes fixated on the bottom of your empty cup before it disappeared from your hold. “Want a refill?” The next thing he stole from you was the joint that was stuck between your lips, the clear lipgloss leaving a mark around the filter.

You tilted your head to the side to finally look at him for the first time since you left his apartment that morning. The first thing your eyes fell on was your old heart-shaped locket hanging from a gold chain around his neck. You wondered if Mikasa knew there was a picture of you and him inside. Looking up, you fought the urge to move a strand of hair behind his pierced ear. His jade eyes searched for yours, but they were locked on Mikasa’s red scrunchy that held his hair in a messy bun.

“Mikasa was looking for you.” You announced and, taking your red solo cup back got up from the couch, heading for the kitchen before Sasha stopped you.

“Some of us are gonna play seven minutes in heaven!” She said excitedly and dragged you with her.

“Oh, I was about to leave.”

“Nonsense! Tell her to stay, Mikasa!”

“Eren will take you home later, come sit!” Mikasa and Sasha took your hands and seated you on the floor, them on either side of you. You tried to ignore Eren’s stare and opted for watching Connie place an empty wine bottle in the middle of the circle instead.

“Okay, who’s starting?” Jean looked around and you noticed the hopeful look he gave Marco across from him, but Sasha was faster, like a lion ready to attack her prey.

“Me, me!” Sasha extended her hands and twisted the glass bottle. Everyone’s drunk gazes watched it turn and turn until the bottom stopped on you. You already knew who the top side of the bottle stopped on, and you turned to Mikasa with wide eyes.

“No fair, Yeager has a girlfriend already!”

“It’s just a game, right babe?” Eren made sure to lean over and peck his girlfriend’s red lips before getting up.

“Yeah. Of course, we won’t do anything, don’t worry.” You whispered to your friend before following Eren upstairs. You wished you hadn’t looked behind you at Mikasa, how she drew her bottom lip between her teeth like she always did when she was nervous.

You recognized the room you stepped in as Connie’s. Eren fell on the bed, a joint still attached to his lips, and his hands dragging you with him.

“Eren, stop it.” You whined, but not once did you try to wiggle your way out of his grip. Such a hypocrite, you thought.

“You look pretty tonight.” He smiled up at you before extending one of his hands to the ashtray on the nightstand to press the joint down on. His silver rings glistened in the moonlight coming from the window as he reached up to move a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Stop.”

“Make me stop. We still have...six minutes and 12 seconds.”

“Eren, enough.”

“Baby, baby please. I want to make you feel as good as you look.” He flipped you around and pinned your hands on either side of your head before kissing you softly.

And you let him. Every time his lips fell on your skin, you convinced himself you’d stop him, but it was forgotten again once he flipped your skirt over and moved your panties to the side. And you let him use his fingers to make your breath hitch in your throat. You couldn’t do anything else but give yourself to Eren completely.

You wanted to think about the girl downstairs that thought of you and Eren as the best of friends, the girl you betrayed every single day for four months, ever since that New Year’s Eve you and Eren spent with each other.

“You’re so pretty. Your pussy is so pretty for me. My pussy.” He mumbled between soft kisses and licks on your clit. You arched your back off the bed, grinding on his face as the bed squeaked under you slightly. His teeth barely grazed your sweet spot to tease you before he started lapping at the juices that threatened to spill on the mattress and give your forbidden act away.

You promised yourself this was the last time as Eren moaned into your cunt desperately. His hands reached for yours on the sheets but they were preoccupied; Eren looked up with a cocky smile at the way you were shaking, only to see it was because you were sobbing into your palms.

“I’m so-”

“Don’t say anything, Eren, please.” You mumbled as he fixed your clothes. He kneeled on the floor next to your head and tried holding your hands, only to get pushed away.

“It hurts to see you cry, baby, I’m sorry. Baby,” Eren checked his phone. Exactly seven minutes, “baby it’s been seven minutes.”

“Tell them I was drunk and fell asleep.” you mumbled and turned your back to him, facing the wall instead. You felt a hand stroke your shoulder, a beam of light entered the room before it was gone as the door closed behind him.

It felt like years that you had been muffling your sobs in Connie's pillow when the door opened again.

"Hey, are you asleep?" You could recognize the sweet, melodic voice anywhere. It was Mikasa, and she was now sitting on the edge of the bed as you pretended to be dozing off. "You don't have to reply, I just want to say something." You wiped a stray tear and listened cautiously. Mikasa was slurring her words a bit, which for her meant she was more than drunk already.

"I think Eren is cheating on me."

"He wouldn't. Eren loves you more than anything." You smiled to the wall sadly, making shapes on the mattress with your index finger. Mikasa gasped; she wasn't expecting you to be awake, or reply.

"Do you think I'm making a mistake being with him still?"

Yes. Yes, a huge mistake. You should leave him, he's not worth your time, Mikasa. You deserve better, someone that will always treat you right.

"It's worth another try, don't you think?" You said instead, knowing it's what your friend needed to hear. As for Eren, he was standing by the closed door, listening closely to your conversation; how Mikasa chuckled, how your voice was shaky and uncontrolled. When it came to Mikasa's question, he found himself scared you would have had enough and finally admit to everything. A sense of relief washed over him, but why did he also feel almost...mad at you?

"Sorry for interrupting, I started the car."

"Oh, okay. __, are you coming? Eren can drop you off." Mikasa offered you a hand, but you got up after denying it.

"I'll leave with Armin." Mikasa nodded and left, Eren mumbling something about 'be right there'.

"I'll come by your place later." Eren wrapped his arms around your neck and kissed your forehead softly. Your hands met his torso and pushed him away, taking a step back.

"Please, Eren..."

"See you!" He waved and left quickly, before you could say anything, because Eren knew you would tell him to fuck off and stay with his girlfriend. But that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Hours later, as the clock struck four in the morning, you heard the front door click open. You didn't have the strength to see him, touch him, hold him. All you wanted was for Eren to disappear from your life, for you to only know him as Mikasa's boyfriend.

"Baby, are you asleep?" You heard a whisper and a drawer open; he was putting on his pajamas. You shut your eyes and pretended he wasn't there, that it was a dream, a nightmare even.

"I missed you so much. So, so much. You were so pretty tonight, did I tell you?" He mumbled, leaving a trail of kisses from your neck down to your upper arm. You shifted on the mattress, pressing your face further against your pillow.

"I can't take it anymore, __. I want to be with you, to kiss you in front of our friends, to go on dates, make you my wife." A sob escaped his lips, and you thought he deserved to be so miserable. After all the pain he's put you and Mikasa in, he should spend the rest of his life crying. "Please talk to me, I know you're awake. I want to see your face. I love you, __.”

"Stop." You mumbled and covered your face with the blanket, wiping a new set of tears away. "Just stop! I can't stand you anymore!" Eren's arms wrapped tight around your waist, his breath hot on your neck; you had never felt so close to him, but you hated that it had to be that way. It was easier to ignore the pain when it was just sex. Sex that took the stress of the day away, that made you forget everything else. But now...what was this predicament you've fallen face first in?

"Mikasa was looking at engagement rings today, you know. And all I could think about was how they were going to look on your finger." He huffed and held your hand in his, caressing the empty space on your left ring finger.

"Why did it have to be you, Eren?"

You weren't expecting an answer. And Eren didn't give you one. His fingers fiddling with the material of your shirt, sneaking in to caress your stomach was enough.

"Do you want a family, __?"

"Maybe with the right person."

Did you mean him? Was that your way of asking him to leave her? Eren couldn't help but wonder, yet he was always one step behind; always wondering, never actually asking.

"What about you?"

"I do. I really do. I want a little girl that runs around the house and makes me play with her. She will have long, brown hair like me and it will flow behind her as she runs. And she has the prettiest eyes, your eyes, your smile. I hope when she laughs her nose shrinks up like yours does. God, that will be the prettiest girl in the world."

You let him have his little fantasy as you sobbed into the pillow, you let him smile and chuckle into your hair as he thought of a happy family living in the countryside. And you let him because you knew it would only ever stay a fantasy.

Shrugging his hand away, you rolled off the bed and sat on an armchair by the window. The street was so quiet, you swore your muffled sobs could be heard from the small opening of the window.

"We have to stop, Eren."

"No."

"This is the worst thing we could have ever done, it needs to be over."

"Is it so wrong to love each other?" He exclaimed, getting up and falling on his knees in front of you. You shook your head and looked away, tears making your sight blurry and shaky. You could feel his open palms over your own, his head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat.

"I don't love you." You admitted. But what a fat lie it was.

"Liar." He knew. Eren could see right through you and your white lies. He knew when you were faking a smile, when your head hurt, when your leg was sore, when you were happy or sad or angry. All he needed was to take one good look at you. And he knew everything.

"It's true."

"Look me in the eyes and say it. Say it! If you do, I'll go. I promise, I'll leave you alone, I'll go get the ring Mikasa wants, I'll make you her maid of honour."

Jade eyes searching for yours. This time they finally met. A shaky breath left your lips, a sob escaped his.

"I don't love you." You spoke loud and clear. And he heard you. Oh, how beautiful your voice sounded even as the words you spoke were hurting him, very much so.

"You love me. More than anyone ever has. More than Mikasa ever will."

"That doesn't change anything, Eren."

"It changes everything!" He exclaimed, caressing your cheeks softly. "Don't you get it, __? I want to be with you for the rest of my life!"

"You need to break up with Mikasa. Tell her everything."

"I will. First thing tomorrow." He nodded and took your hands in his, bringing them to his wet cheeks. Trembling thumbs wiped tears off red cheeks before you fell on the floor, letting Eren engulf you in a hug. "Kiss me." He whispered and brought his lips against yours before you could refuse.

Next thing you knew, his arms were carrying you to the bed, caging you between them. He played with the hem of your shirt and you didn't have to wait any longer to know he wanted it off. So you obliged, like always. Anything Eren wanted, you gave to him. Such a selfless act, for such a selfish person.

An hour later and you were still playing that game you knew by heart. You would give him everything he wanted, in return you got a crumble of love that should be given to Mikasa.

"I love you, I love you, my baby. My little baby, fuck-come for me please." Eren's hands intertwined with yours, pinning them over your head on the pillow and drilling into you fast. He was close too, he knew he was, but he wanted to cherish this moment. It felt like it would be the last one, it hurt like a breakup. And making love to the woman of your life shouldn't hurt. Tears threatened to escape his sapphire eyes as he leaned down to kiss you softly.

"Want to stay with you here forever. I want to make love to you everyday, baby please." He whimpered. You didn’t have the heart to reply to him, instead focusing on the euphoria you felt as he fucked you into the mattress.

“Eren, Eren!” You moaned his name, desperately holding onto the sound of it as you arched your back off the bed. You didn’t know when the next time you’ll be calling for him like that would be. And as you reached your orgasm, you hugged Eren and brought him down, not even a breath separating the two of you.

“You’re on birth control, right?” You nodded, and he gripped your jaw to kiss you again. With one last thrust, Eren painted your walls white with his cum, giving a few more slow rolls of his hips before pulling out.

And just like that, it felt like your life was over. You were drowning in a bottomless pit of sorrow, but Eren was still with you. He was in your bathroom, filling the tub with warm water. His clothes were on your floor, his spare ones in your drawer.

“I have to go home. Mikasa will come over for breakfast.” His apologetic eyes as he picked his clothes up made you scoff. You knew his promise of breaking up would end up untrue and Mikasa would be calling later to talk about how he surprised her with flowers and pancakes. And that she had no reason for worrying, because they were better than ever.

“Will you break up with her?” You called as he stood at the door.

“Soon.”

Yeah. Soon.

taglist: @chaotic-nick @arean @didiyogo @fuwushiguro

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sebsxphia · 2 years ago

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wso!kazansky!daughter (babydoll) x hangman blurb

this is a little all over the place but hang with me.

she grew up with mav and rooster. her and rooster started in contact after mav pulled his papers. all three are close after the uranium mission.

hangman & babydoll met in flight school and graduated top gun together. they're close, but deny their feelings for each other for literally 10+ years like fools.

after both are called back and the uranium mission is completed, the team is stationed at top gun as instructors and active members doing missions here and there. usually hangman flies alone, but for one specific mission they get paired up. hangman is a little nervous bc the woman he's pretty sure is his soulmate is now his backseater and her life is in his hands.

on the mission they're shot down and have to eject at a lower altitude than is desirable, so they hit the ground hard. hangman is pretty sure he sprained his elbow and has a concussion, but his first thought is to find babydoll. he finds her laying on her back holding her head. her leg is at a strange angle, but other than that it's just scrapes and bruises.

mav and rooster are back at the base, worried, after hearing them eject. mav and rooster both have faith in hangman, mav more than rooster. rooster is worried that hangman won't be able to find her. she could be captured and he's TWEAKING. mav is freaked because he promised iceman he would keep his babydoll safe.

coyote sighs. hangman might kill him for spilling this. "trust jake. she means a lot to him. he won't stop looking until he's found her."

and rooster is like "??? what do you mean she means a lot to him?"

coyote goes kinda quiet and says, "he's been in love with her for 10 years. nothing is happening to that woman if she's with him."

hangman picks babydoll up, carrying her to an area that is better hidden. they completed their mission. the threat was neutralized. now they just had to wait for the rescue chopper.

"jake?" babydoll asks quietly.

"it's okay. try to rest." jake says.

"no," she feels his arms wrap around her tighter. the air was getting colder. "my dad... before he died, he made me promise him..." she took a deep breath before continuing, "that i would finally talk to you about how i feel. he said he didn't want his babydoll to be alone..."

jake took a deep heart, but she continued before he could say anything. "jake, i've been in love with you for 10 years. you're my best friend. i'm sorry if this is weird or uncomfortable, but i made my dad a promise."

"hey," jake said, resting his chin on her head softly. "i've been waiting to hear you say that for 10 years. you have no idea how crazy it drove me to act like you were just a friend to me." she looks up at him with tired eyes, and a (maybe awful) idea popped into his head. it was coming out of his mouth before he could stop it. "marry me."

babydoll freezes for a second. "what?"

"marry me. we've waited 10 years, and i don't want to wait anymore. you're it for me. i've known that since the day i met you."

babydoll grins, "jake seresin, who knew you could be so soft?" she teases. "nothing would make me happier than marrying you. i'd marry you tomorrow. i just wish my dad was here to see us."

"given the fact that we're alive, i'm guessing iceman is still watching out for his babydoll." jake laughs, kissing her head.

the rescue comes, and jake refuses to leave her side until they bring her to surgery for her leg. the entire dagger team are all in her hospital room waiting for her to wake up.

"i asked her to marry me." jake blurts out.

silence.

"what?" rooster and mav ask in unison.

"i asked her to marry me. she said yes." jake confesses, tears blurring his eyes as he held her hand.

"well..." mav starts, placing a hang on jake's leg, "you better buy that girl a ring."

and that's how little miss kazansky become little mrs. seresin.

- 🦦

oh i love this so much!!!!! the pining after all these years!!!!! the proposal!!!!!! they aren’t even together but they both just fucking know they’re the one for each other. soulmates 🥹🥹🥹

thank you so so much for sending this to me dear anon!!! 💌 i’m incredibly grateful, this is beautiful!! 💖

#💌you’ve got mail #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #🦦 anon

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1kook · 4 years ago

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viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?

You’re not so sure.

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.

Oh, you loved this man.

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.

“I thought he was cool before.”

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.

You whimper. “That hurt.”

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.

Of course.

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.

And you’re all too ready to act on it.

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true.

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

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