#I have a record of focusing on hands in previews

[rose-madder-gaze]

[straylightdream]

delicate

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: joshua hong x cam girl reader

Long night, with your hands up in my hair. Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs. Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: established relationship, non idol au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much angst, emotional joshua, unprotected sex(mc is on birth control), creampie, breed kink, body worship, jealous joshua, oral (both rec), slut shaming not by joshua, recording sexual acts, masturbation, guided/mutual masturbation

an: my next story for SVT inspired by reputation songs by taylor swift.

if you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

PREVIEW

Your first month of doing it you weren’t very sure of what you should do and decided to wear a mask that covered part of your face. After your first month you really started doing well and making lots of money. You finally didn’t have to worry about paying rent. You wouldn’t have stressed out Jeonghan like you have a couple times about missing rent.

You managed to fully keep your job a secret from everyone you knew, even Joshua you had you had been seeing for about three months. Everyone thought you had an online marketing job that let you work from home. It was your little secret for the first two years you started doing it. Everything fell apart when Seokmin, Chan, and Joshua found out about your job.

It turns out a girl that went to college who had a crush on Joshua back in the day, that never liked you discovered your secret. She took it upon herself to share you secret when she ran into Joshua while he was out with Seokmin and Chan getting coffee one day.

You and Joshua have always been close. You became friends in college and you still share the same friend group to this day. Four months ago you decided to give dating a try. You planned on telling him at some point about your job but you weren’t sure when would be a good time.

As soon as he finished getting coffee with the boys, he asked them to keep what they had been told to themselves even though he knew deep down inside they were going to go home and look up your page. Something didn’t sit right about his friend seeing his girlfriend naked online. He knew it was a matter of time before one of them accidentally let someone else know.

Walking into his apartment he slipped off into his room locking the door. Putting his headphones on he went onto the site the girl had told him he would find your account on. Opening his laptop he searched the user name he was told he could find you by. Your username you went by “kittenqt”. The moment the page opened his mouth went dry. Even with half your face covered he could tell it was you. He knew he should close his laptop and just let it go. You had chosen not to share this information with him for a reason, but this all just didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t care that you were a sex worker. He cared more that you hid this from him. He wished you would have trusted him enough to let him know.

Staring at your home page he reached up to close his laptop, but he couldn’t. He instead clicked the button to open your live stream. The moment the page loaded his eyes focused on your naked form laying on your bed with your legs spread. You were dressed in pink sheer crotchless panties and sheer bra that was completely see through that matched.

Silently he listened to you pleasuring yourself with a pink sparkly dildo he’s never seen before.

Your sex life with Joshua was passionate, but you had never brought in toys or anything like that.

READ THE FULL STORY HERE

[yurisorcerer]

In a development I definitely wouldn't have predicted even a week ago, the title of "first anime to make me cry this season" goes to Mayonaka Punch.

This is *very* different in tone, structure, and even subject matter to every prior episode of this show and, judging by the previews, probably many of the later ones, too. Rather than focusing on the main group, this is a spotlight episode about Fu, probably the least-focused-on member of the group so far, and an old friend of hers named Aya. It's much more poignant and heartbreaking than funny, and I think MayoPan, somewhat surprisingly, manages to make this massive shift in mood completely work.

Before now, the series hasn't really grappled with what it *means* to be a vampire. It's been an obstacle or inconvenience or a role that comes with a set of rules or even a prop for some of Masaki's videos earlier in the series. With this episode though, MayoPan drills down on one of the oldest tropes in vampire fiction; the tragedy of immortality.

Fu met Aya when the latter was, going by her appearance, roughly a high schooler. She got Fu into western rock and pop music, and the two played music together, with Fu singing and Aya providing guitar. Aya eventually gets the idea that Fu is *such* a good singer that they could even go pro. Fu knows---and Yuki tells her this much---that this cannot possibly work. She can't go out in the sunlight and doesn't age, so people will start talking at some point. The entire thing is a foolish dream, and Fu knows this. But she can't bring herself to tell Aya, and she ends up stringing Aya along right up until the very moment that they're supposed to debut as a duo on an outdoor stage. The sun catches her outstretched hand, which briefly alights, and scared and confused, she runs away.

Back in the present, Masaki finds out about all this from the other vampires and gets it in her head that she should record Fu singing covers. Fu is initially very reluctant, but after a somewhat strained heart to heart she ends up seeking Aya out upon learning that she moved to New York some years ago. Then, upon meeting a friend of hers, the episode delivers its solemn last twist; Aya is dead. Fu will never see her friend again.

All of this loses something in the retelling, but in the moment it's really, truly heartwrenching. (I *love* Masaki and Fu's conversation, too. Fu goes back to this idea several times that she doesn't *deserve* to sing, since she abandoned her friend, but Masaki contends that there's *nobody* who doesn't deserve to do the things that make them happy. There's something really powerful in that, and I think it's a theme the show will come back around to.) Fu makes a kind of peace with Aya's passing, and the episode has a semi-happy postscript in that she *does* end up singing for the channel, pouring her passion into a new version of her dream in her friend's memory, but it's definitely bittersweet as opposed to just straight-up happy.

With this episode I think Mayonaka Punch has firmly placed itself in roughly the same category as Zombieland Saga, another show about undead entertainers that is fully willing to mine that status for both comedy and pathos. ZLS was, until now, kind of a one-of-one, so I'm really happy to see something picking up its torch in this way. I don't know if it'll ever touch this territory again, but I'm glad that it did. Not only does this do an amazing job of making Fu immediately one of my favorite characters, it's just also a frankly incredible piece of character work top to bottom, a story so self-contained that it's almost a great anime all on its own.

[fleetingofthegretas]

Slow or fast? Danny Wagner x reader

Preview: Your boyfriend Danny Wagner, the drummer of Greta Van Fleet invites you to the bar with his bandmates but you decline, having to get things done around the house. Your boyfriend returns home drunk as ever & comes home with one thing in mind, one thing that he wants. You. How can you say no to your greek god of a boyfriend? Not to mention what you know will happen when you wake up, some fluff & sweetness with a side of hangover to fill your morning.

MENTIONS OF/ TW: !Drunks3x, fluff, Oral M receiving, teasing

November. Its a calm chilly day in the city of Nashville, Tennessee where you reside with your boyfriend Daniel. You're home alone, despite the company of your old grumpy cat, Greta. Danny gave you Greta as a valentines day gift when you hit 2 years of dating. Seems like it was just yesterday when she became a new edition to your small little family you were slowly building.

A smile creeps upon your lips as you recall the memory of when he brought your sweet kitty home. You were stuck in Traffic so you had shown up after Danny was already home. You walked into your house to see Danny sitting on the couch with a huge smile on his face.

"Hey honey sorry I'm late I totally got caught behind an accident. Just looked like a fender bender so I don't think anyone was hurt. What's up with that smirk on your face? What did you do?"

He erupts with laughter at your remark. "I didn't do anything sweet girl. I did get you a gift though".

He scoops you up in his arms and lays you on your shared bed.

"Oh? Is this the gift?" You ask as you start to undo his belt, looking up at him with big eyes.

Something furry rubs against your back scaring you halfway to death. You immediately drop your hands from his belt to see what the heck is with you in bed, only to see its the elder cat you've been keeping an eye on at the nearby shelter for the past few months.

"Daniel oh my god! When did you get her??"

"Last night before I came home. I had forgotten what you said her name was but I did remember that she was gray and orange. They only had 2 gray & orange cats but the other one was a kitten, so I decided to get the older one instead. Funnily enough her shelter name was Greta, so I felt like it was meant to be."

"Where was she this whole time? & how did you know I wanted the older one instead of the kitten?"

"Well I asked if any of the boys could watch her just while I waited to finally surprise you. Sam of course replied with he hates cats, and Josh just never answered his phone. Jake ended up offering to take her in for the night. I think he secretly loves cats and doesn't want to admit it. As for getting the older cat instead of a kitten, that's because kittens will get adopted faster than the elders, and I had seen that Greta was at the shelter for so long, I figured you and I could give her a new life".

"Oh Daniel you are too kind for this world. I think I want to keep her name as Greta, it seems to fit her and you're right. It is meant to be".

Gray and orange fur rubs against your foot, waking you up from your daydream. You glance at the clock which loudly reads 3pm. 2 more hours till Danny gets home. Luckily you have a lot to do today which keeps your mind occupied. The entire day you've been out and about. At 10 you had brunch with your friends, just catching up and drinking mimosas together. By 12 you were shopping on your own getting things for the house. You had an odd list of things you and Danny needed.

Avocados, Planter pots, Organizing containers, guitar picks, toothpaste, and laundry detergent

You smirk a bit at 'guitar picks' in Danny's messy handwriting, probably written this morning when he was rushing out the door to meet at the studio with the boys.

Danny's guitar picks have been going m.i.a. recently as Greta has found a new love for smacking them off the coffee table and scattering them around the house.

You are so focused on repotting plants & putting your shared record collection into new organizers that you don't even hear the door open. Before you know it, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist and pick you up off the floor, making you scream.

"Hi babygirl I've missed you, crazy day in the studio" He sets you down to give you a quick kiss.

"I've missed you too! Could've used your help reaching the box of screws in the garage today, I hate using the stool. I'd rather just have a big tall man like you to get it for me" You give your biggest pout you can and look up at him with your big eyes causing him to blush

"Oh I'm so sorry I wasn't there to assist you, my princess."

"I love it when you call me that. What are you up to tonight? Hanging out with the boys or what?"

"Yes, actually. We made plans to try out a bar we've never been to before. I'm super stoked. You can come with if you want"

"That sounds like so much fun but I have to finish getting stuff done around the house tonight. I'm in cleaning mode so I can't stop now. I hope you and the boys have lots of fun though! Send me a text when you're on your way home but I might be asleep depending on how late you'll be."

"Sounds good baby. I love how well you take care of the house. I'm not sure when I'll be home. Maybe 11? 1? I'm not sure. If you get lonely, there's a bottle of Moscato in the fridge & a fluffy friend to cuddle with. Love you my sweet girl."

He gives you a kiss, holding either side of your face with one of his hands.

Before you know it, he's gone again. You don't mind it though, because you have to deal with him being gone for tours and such. God you loved watching him play, and got excited every time the band would come close to home so you could see it in person. Not to mention the after show sex. Danny would always wait for you backstage super sweaty, pumping with adrenaline. You loved when you got to see that side of him. He was always super confident and aggressive, which you don't get to see too often with your mellow & kind-hearted boyfriend.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You just changed into pajamas, the red satin set Danny got you for your birthday this past year. You sit by the fireplace, incense freshly burnt, book out, cat on your lap, with a cold glass of wine in hand. You think about your rockstar boyfriend and how truly amazing your life is.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Glass breaking. You jolt upwards, finding you have fallen asleep on the couch, right where you were before.

What the hell was that?

"Hello? Danny?" you yell out into the darkness

no response. You walk further in the dark, met with a light from the kitchen. Danny is stood over the sink trying to clean up a broken glass he had toppled over.

"What the hell Danny? What time is it?"

"Please don't be mad baby. It's 3 am"

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? I heard the glass break."

You walk over to him and start turning his hands over. Front and back. Left. Front and back. Right. You look up at his face with concern. Not a single cut. You look back up at him and meet his eyes. He has been watching you the entire time. Examining him with deep worry just for nothing to be wrong.

"I'm fine, my princess. I just had stumbled a bit and the cup fell over. Not even a scratch on me, I promise."

You stand on your tip toes to wrap your arms around his neck, the type of hug you always give him after he causes you to lose your shit. This time being that you thought there was an intruder in your house. You sigh heavily into the nape of his neck and then release. You give him a small smile and walk to your bedroom, his drunk ass following lazily, and a little zig-zagged. You wonder how much he's had to drink if he's having this much of a hard time. After all he drinks with the Kiszka's all the time so he has built up his tolerance.

You yelp after feeling your boyfriends hand slap your ass and give him a glare. Danny is simply grinning ear to ear, eyes squinted. You finally approach your bed. All of a sudden you're in the air, then you're not.

You look up, out of breath, to see Danny standing above you with a look in his eye. "Have you been good for Daddy while I've been gone?"

What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCKKKKK????

You stare at him with your mouth open, completely in shock of what he just said to you. You can't help but admit to yourself that this turns you on and you're already becoming a waterpark in your panties. You gather yourself enough to respond after realizing he's waiting for you to answer.

"Yes sir"

"Good girl. Go into the bathroom. I'll be here. When you come out I don't want you wearing anything but those pink panties of yours."

"Yes Danny"

He gets off of you so you can stand up. You look at him and can tell he knows you like this. Which you do, its pretty obvious based on how you're holding up. You do as you're told and walk straight into the bathroom without looking back. You take off your top first. You then take off your silk shorts and take a glance at yourself in the gold mirror in the corner of the bathroom. You feel a rush of nervousness run over your body. To see Danny look at you in this sense. It is your first time having him be so dominant. Sure you've done stuff close to this in the past- but never this level. But god its hot. You take a deep breath as you fix your hair and open the door. You gasp at the sight before you. Danny is sitting on the corner of the bed closest to you, laid back with his elbows propping him up, completely undressed with his hardness laid out before you.

You don't realize what you're doing until he points it out.

"Close your mouth Darling. Come close, I don't bite- unless you want me to of course. Come take your seat."

You understand exactly what you're supposed to do in that moment. You make 3 swift movements, now almost straddling him save for a few inches. You hover your center above his length, until he locks eyes with you. You make direct eye contact as you slowly sit down and grind against him. He lets out a breathy sigh

"Fuck baby. But that's not what I planned."

He rolls you flat onto your back so now you've switched spots. He hovers his hand over the spot you want him to touch you at but never makes contact.

"Do you want me to touch you baby? Say it"

"I do"

"Beg"

He crosses his arms and looks upwards, waiting for you.

"Jesus fuck danny please just touch me"

"Yes my princess"

He starts rubbing you in circles, making you release stiff breaths from beneath him. He suddenly moves your underwear to the side, slipping two fingers deep within you. You start panting from the feeling building inside you. He's going so fast you feel like you will erupt. He pulls his fingers out and completely stops.

"Danny what the hell?!?" You start getting frustrated with him. You jump at him trying to get him to come back down on you. He instead pushes you off gently without saying a word. He grabs the hairtie off your wrist and puts your hair up for you. You know you now have to pay the favor back to him. He tilts your head back to face him to show you his dark eyes, suddenly darker. He doesn't even have to say anything. You move to the edge of the bed and take him in your mouth. Deep. You swirl your tounge around his tip and use your hands, twisting them as you pump him off. He knows how much you enjoy doing this for him. You continue pumping him while sticking your tounge out. You look up at him but all you're met with is his adam's apple. He has his head thrown back, feeling into every movement you give to him. This only makes you go faster, as more motivation of what its doing to him. Your rockstar boyfriend. He starts to twitch from within your mouth.

You stop. Just like he did from you, teasing, taking the release that he needed. He looks at you angrily and frustrated. "Y/N, now you're gonna get it." Your face displays a wicked smile because you know exactly what you're doing and you disobeyed him. He pushes you backwards and immediately is in you. Kissing you. hands propped on either side of your head. His balls are slapping against you every second. You've never had a fast fuck, let alone a frustrated one. Your eyes roll back into your head due to the intense feeling he is giving you.

"Fuck you feel so good baby. You're so wet"

"Danny- f-f-uck" You mutter as he puts his one hand on your throat and slams into you even harder. He keeps going, but eventually slows down. You have no idea where this comes from, but you somehow flip him and are now riding him. Making out, both giving each other the same look, the same look of need. You need him and he needs you. You start to feel yourself giving in so you slow down. He feels this too- He grabs you to hold you in place and starts thrusting in to you from below. You cry out to him "Fuck!" and a tear falls down your face from all the emotions of ecstasy you're feeling all at once. Danny finishes inside you simultaneously.

You ride him slowly, giving him soft kisses before dismounting him and falling into bed beside him.

He goes to the bathroom to return in boxers & holding a washcloth. He cleans you up and puts a new pair of underwear on you, while planting a kiss to your forehead. You slowly fall asleep knowing you're in his comfort.

"Goodnight, my princess" You hear him say softly as you go in and out of sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Light. There's light in your eyes as you squint and stretch yourself awake. 10 am, the clock reads. You roll over to see dark curls, the curls that you adore so much. You smile widely at the thought of last night. You look around your room only to see Greta sitting on the floor, glaring at you. Poor kitty normally sleeps in your bed. You giggle to yourself at the thought of Greta being "punished" because her parents were busy making love.

You turn to give danny a kiss on the cheek as a good morning attempt. You brush your hand over him, to find out that he had discarded his boxers sometime in the nighttime and had morning wood.

"Why goodmorning my sweet boy" You say while running your left hand over his happy trail, right arm propping your head up. He stretches out, putting his arms out to pull you in closer to him.

"Good morning baby girl. I hope I wasn't too much for you last night. I had a lot to drink at the bar."

"Oh baby you're never too much for me, and you won't ever be, even if you make me call you daddy"

"I did what"

You both start laughing together, which ends in a tired make out session interrupted by yawning and something poking you in the leg, which turns your face red.

"Danny?"

"Yes baby?"

"You can do anything you want to me and I will still love you. I don't think I will ever stop adoring you"

He replies with a big smile, as you then kiss that big smile of his, and line him up with you. He smirks at the touch and goes in. You both release a breath, facing each other in bed. Slow, soft, and lovingly. This type won't ever beat anything, not even post concert sex. It is the most loving thing to experience and you know Danny feels the same way.

So there you are, looking at each other completely glazed over with love while he's inside of you, making love lazily to you.

The end!! <3

NOTE from the author: None of these pics are my own and I do not claim them. All found from Pinterest. This is my first fic/ smut I've ever wrote so I hope at least one person out there likes it.

[ae-azile]

The Non-Newtonian Newborn: Chapter 5 Preview

“There is nothing in the code that would cause an intentional misread,” Arm says after looking over the program, “Since I am the only one who has done maintenance on it for the last few years, I have administrative access that is higher than the access the infirmary staff has. Even if there was someone higher ranked than me, I would be able to see any adjustments added to the code since each edit creates a new update. The last update was four months ago when we bought new digital microscopes for the lab.”

Porsche holds back a groan and tries not to grip his hair, “Okay, but what if they could hide the fact that they made an update to the program? Like, erase record of it or-”

“Each update leaves a blueprint. It automatically audits the change because you risk the program crashing if each change isn't documented and time-stamped,” Arm says, “If someone from the outside would do something to the code, the change be time-stamped and identified by the username or IP address.”

Porsche breathes in and out as Kinn puts a hand on his shoulder.

“What's this about?” Kinn asks, “I…I appreciate you trying to help and get answers for Kim, but the paternity was already identified. Looking at her, it doesn't take long to see the resemblance. And even though I don't understand it, Kim has come to accept it and he seems to really…I don't know, love her.”

“This isn't about Kim,” Porsche says, pulling away before pointing at Chay, who has just been gently and slowly spinning Achara in one of the stools - much to her delight, “Your pa just pointed a gun at my brother and accused him of being Achara's other parent!”

“It's because I am,” Chay says, “Korn was just feeling protective of Kim. The DNA results took him by surprise. Me too, but I feel so connected to her. And I think she looks a little like me! She's a little closer to my skin tone and I think she has my lips!”

Porsche tries to keep his breathing under control, then looks at Kinn once more.

“The results are wrong.”

Kinn steps closer again and cups Porsche's face. We’ll have them run Chay’s DNA against Achara's separately. Like they did with Kim. Just to check. Doctor Saelim is a good man…surprisingly ethical, considering he works for us. I don't think this is something he would lie about.”

Porsche exhales, “So it has to be a technical glitch. Right, Arm?”

Arm clears his throat, “...I really don't see how it would be-”

“Arm,” Porsche says in a warning tone.

“But we can narrow down the possible matches to you, Chay, and your mother and see if Achara shares DNA with you.”

They go down to the infirmary after that. Both Chay and Achara get swabbed and both tasks are carried out. The database is done by Arm himself while Porsche watches the nurse without blinking to make sure she doesn't switch out any samples. Doctor Saelim examined the samples manually.

It takes about an hour to get an answer to this. Porsche feels like he is waiting for the most important news of his life. Chay doesn't seem particularly bothered at all and is too focused on his baby-

The baby. She is NOT Chay’s baby-

“I have concluded that Chay is this child’s parent,” Doctor Saelim says coming out, before nodding at Arm, “The database gave the same response?”

Arm nods, not quite able to meet Porsche’s eyes, “Yes, Doctor.”

Chay leans forward slightly to look at Porsche, “See, Hia? I told you she is my baby!”

Porsche finds himself jumping to his feet to pace, “You're a kid, Chay! You can't be a father, and you didn't even do anything reckless to make this happen! This isn't fair to you! You're just going to be-”

“Stop talking so loud!” Chay hisses, trying to soothe a now crying Achara, “You're scaring her!”

“She's the one who is scary! She came out of nowhere, knows how to teleport, and has latched herself onto two random guys!”

“She's my baby! Don't talk about her like that!” Chay says as Achara cries louder. Porsche can't think.

“We don't know what she's capable of! We don't even know how she got here! She-”

Before Porsche can finish his sentence, Achara disappears out of Chay’s arms. Chay jumps up, lets out a panicked sound, and points a finger at him.

“Look what you did!”

Porsche doesn't know how he made a baby teleport, and yet he feels so incredibly guilty.

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Kim used to swim a lot more when he was younger. Something about the water soothed him, and swimming laps was always an exercise that felt more like self-care than actual work, despite it working all of his muscles. It provided a way to clear his mind of all the stress of living at the compound. When he moved out, he didn't need to utilize swimming as much, but he forgot how much he missed it. He loved swimming with his mother and brothers the most, but as he got older, he appreciated having the pool to himself so he could enjoy the peace and quiet.

He hasn’t had much of that the last few days - although moments of peace and quiet were few and far between before that, especially in his head.

And while he's still concerned and anxious over how this is all going to play out with Chay, something about this situation makes him feel better about his life. It was like something was missing for so long, and now it's so much better.

As Kim goes under the water, he stays beneath the surface and lets himself sink to the bottom for just a moment. When he was younger, it would feel like time would just freeze every time he did that.

Yet when he comes back up for air, it feels like he has anything but time. His heart stutters in his chest when he sees Achara appear at the very edge of the pool, the left side of her body dangling halfway off and over the deep end as she cries hysterically. His brain is still trying to catch up when gravity works against her and she topples over, plunging into the depths of the water.

[reginageorgesgirlfriend3020]

You forgot! (Part 3)

You were at the apartment mixing a song together. You recently got a job in a recording studio as an audio engineer and music producer. You were still pissed at Sam. I mean today is your one year anniversary with sam since you and her have been together for a year. You were hoping to do something romantic for her but you just couldn't focus on that as you were already starting to have trouble focusing on the mixing the song.

Sam unlocked the door to the apartment and opened the door and closed. "Hi baby!" She said. She smiled at you.

"Hi". You said quietly.

Anika and and Mindy were sitting at the table working together. Chad and Tara were watching a movie together. And Quinn was studying.

Sam walked towards you and tried to hug you as she put her hand on your back.

"Don't touch me!" You spat angrily.

Sam just looked at you. "Baby what's wrong?" She asked.

"What's wrong?! What's wrong?!" You yelled. You stood up. "You forgot our one anniversary you ass!" You yelled in front of everyone. Everybody looked at you. You walked away and slammed the door to the bedroom.

"I didn't forget our one year anniversary today is Friday and june- oh my gosh!" Said Sam.

"Sam how could you forget the one year anniversary of your own relationship?" Quinn asked.

"Because I'm freaking stupid". Said Sam.

"And dont forget you forgot to kiss your girlfriend goodnight and give her a goodnight hug". Said Anika.

"Yeah". Said Sam.

"And you forgot to tell your girlfriend goodnight beautiful". Said Chad.

"I dont mean to hurt her like this. Ugh I'm such a bad girlfriend!! I keep forgetting to do so many things for her and she never forgets to do things for me that I love and appreciate. What am I going to do?" Sam asked.

"You could say you're sorry". Said Mindy.

"Sorry may not be enough this time. When I had covid she took care of me. When I hurt my leg at work she helped me feel better. I'm so freaking lucky to have a girlfriend like her and I'm so freaking...ugh I'm so dumb!" Sam said frustrated at herself.

You stayed in the room the whole night watching movies on Netflix and working. You didn't even want your girlfriend to sleep next to you. You threw the pillows and blanket at her so she can sleep on the couch.

But while you were trying to sleep you just couldn't. And Sam couldn't sleep either. You opened the door to the bedroom and walked to see Sam still awake.

"I can't sleep". You said. "Will you come sleep next to me and hold me?" You asked Sam.

Sam smiled slightly. She nodded. "I'm coming baby". She took the blanket and the pillows into the bedroom. You got in bed as she got in bed too. As soon as Sam wrapped her arms around you, you wanted to cry.

"I'm sorry baby. I really am. I screwed up big time". Sam said.

"For our on year anniversary I got you the baseball hat you wanted. Plus a giftcard to Starbucks. It has $50 on it". You said.

"Thank baby. I feel so bad. I feel horrible. I promise tomorrow I'm gonna make it up to you. We can go anywhere you want". Sam said. "I keep screwing up I really am sorry". She said.

Sam held you tight as you hugged her. "I hate not sleeping next to you. I hate not sleeping on you". You said to Sam.

Sam kissed you on your forehead. "I have an idea. Tomorrow let's do whatever you want. What do you wanna do?" She asked you.

"Get iced coffee. Go to the collectibles place so I can buy the football Jersey. And go home and cuddle". You said.

Sam smiled. "We can definitely do that. I'll even take you to the bakery with the fancy desserts. We can eat chocolate cake together". Sam said.

You smiled. "I'd love that. But I'm still not letting you off the hook entirely. But because you apologized heres a little preview". You said.

You put her hands on your butt. "And who knows. Maybe tomorrow you may get lucky and get some lovin. A little sexy time". You said. Then you winked at her.

Sam smiled. "Oooh! Well dont worry baby I'm not ever gonna forget anything important ever again!!". And you giggled as Sam began to kiss you everywhere from your lips to your neck.

You started to moan. "Sam". You moaned as you said her name. "Baby. Our friends will hear us".

"Mmm". Said Sam. "I want them to hear us. I want them to hear you say my name". Sam said flirtatiously.

You smirked. "Oh, trust me. I'm gonna scream your name tonight". You said.

You and sam went from making love to having rough passionate sweaty sex. Sam fell asleep holding you in her arms as you fell asleep on her chest.

[joz-yyh]

Love Host - Ch. 8 (Preview)

SUMMARY: Miles and Waylon meet up for some diagnostic testing that takes a very drastic turn. No beta. Read at your own risk.

RATING: T (for this chapter ONLY!!)

PAIRING: Walmiles (WalriderxMiles)

WORD COUNT: 1,211

A/N: Doing my best to keep focused on these two long enough to finish another chapter. Comments and likes are very appreciated.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–——

Clang, Clang, Clang--!

Waylon looks up from his computer chair at the pedantic knock, knowing who his pertinent guest should be, double checking the security feed just to be sure Murkoff wasn't paying him any surprise visits.

There on the monitor, is a quiff of black hair and ugly olive jacket he'd recognize a mile away. Speaking of Miles –

Waylon opens the bean hole to the main door, the grinning blue eyes of Miles fucking Upshur waiting for him on the other side.

“Hey there, WayWay, I am here for my check up,” he greets with a smile, the wave he offers just out of sight, “Oh yeah, and Wally’s here too.”

The words barely register before the nanomachine has its whole face pressed against the peephole, staring back at Waylon, completely eyeless.

The techie nearly jumps out of his skin, shutting the slat out of paranoid instinct, body wrecked by a wave of heebeegeebees.

He can see it. Why can he see it when he couldn’t as much before?

“Heeeeyy,” Miles whines, voice dampened by the steel barrier between them, ”I am still waiting out here.”

Waylon internally groans, trying to collect himself enough to unlatch the many bars securing the entrance shut.

When the final lock cracks loose, Miles is too busy comforting the Walrider to notice, holding its caricature of a face and daresay, petting it.

“Ah, you can c-come in now,” Waylon offers, standing in the doorway, watching on with morbid fixation.

“There, see,” Miles exclaims, a consoling note to his voice, “He wouldn't invite us in if he didn't like us.”

Waylon swears this scene must be slowly melting his brain from the inside out.

“Hey, Way,” the brunette asks, turning his attention to his fellow asylum survivor, “could you tell Wally that you like him, please? He thinks you're scared of him. Isn't that silly?”

He isn't scared, he's terrified.

“Yeah, s-sure. I like him,” Waylon offers weakly, swallowing down his dread.

This was absurd. A machine couldn’t have feelings and even if it did, they were none more important than his own.

“Told you! Everything's fine,” Miles chippers, the Walrider finally appeased by this discovery.

The machine gazes toward Waylon again, breaking it’s body down into smaller pieces, swooping in close to swirl around Waylon knees, then higher, drifting in a cyclone of miniature storm clouds up to his shoulders.

“Uhh, hello again, I guess,” the engineer offers shakily, trying to appear fearless and brave, even lifting a finger to touch the nanite mist surrounding him. It feels like water.

“Thanks Waylon,” Miles says, patting him on the shoulder in good sportsmanship, stepping inside.

“Yeah, sure. No problem.”

And just like that, the nano machine leaves him to follow it’s host, the dazed software engineer reminding himself that he needs to rearm the door.

Before the reporter can poke his nose in further, Waylon locks the paddock, turning on the electric fence to deter any unwanted trespassers.

“So this is where you’ve been holding up,” Miles asks, taking in the abandoned barracks, a dimly-lit trailer filled with a junkyard of abandoned tech.

The Walrider is equally curious, ghosting around the layout, dosing the army green interior in supernatural mist.

“Not quite,” Waylon amends, running a hand down his face, feeling overwhelmed by the quirky demands of his company, “This is where I work. Keeps me a safe distance away from Lisa and the kids in case anything happens.”

“Safety is important. I am sure there are no OSHA recordables in here,” the snarky brunette remarks, dodging under a duct of loose wires.

“Ha ha funny,” the blonde remarks, devoid of amusement, “the device I want to show you is over here.”

Waylon grabs him by the wrist cuff before Miles can slip away to snoop, escorting him to the testing room.

“Aren’t you going to give me a tour first,” the sleuth whines, taking in as much of the space as he can, “you can’t tell me you have a secret lair and not show me around.”

“There's really not much to see,” Waylon growls, noting his companion’s inquisitive fingers, “Also please stop touching everything.”

“Awwww,” Miles whines, dragging his feet in disappointment, a frown setting in.

“Fine, maybe later,” the techie relents, his stride persisting, “We're kinda pressed for time.”

“Oh, somewhere you gotta be,” Miles asks, perking up at that confession, raising a brow at his companion, letting himself be tugged along more easily.

“Yeah, I’d prefer to be home every night to be with my wife and kids.”

A long pause, their combined footsteps echoing off the iron grates that line the floor.

“Am I invited,” the reporter asks, smirking at the back of Waylon’s unkempt head of hair.

Another aggravated tug on his sleeve.

“Let’s just get through the testing first.”

They arrive at their destination, the very back of the bunker, a T-shaped hub. One of the doors is sealed off, making Miles wonder what could be hiding in there, the rest of the room encased by steel shelves filled with gutted parts, radios, computers, phones and the like.

In the center is a chair outfitted with restraints, a litany of auxiliary cords hooked up to various loadouts, a desk and computer terminal set up in the corner, no doubt to collect the data of whoever sits in it.

“So … this is it,” Miles says judgmentally, unimpressed, “Looks like an electric chair, but somehow more revenge of the nerds-esque.”

Waylon smacks his lips and rolls his eyes. He won’t deny it bears a striking resemblance to Mount Massive’s brainwashing devices, ones he had the untimely pleasure of experiencing for himself.

“Yeah, everyone's a critic. Just get in.”

“Is it safe,” Miles asks, skeptical of the bad vibe he was getting just looking at the creepy thing.

“As safe as any of this experimental tech is gonna be.”

Miles supposes he can’t complain, given the circumstances. He doesn’t get any of these gadgets, but there was no one else he could turn to (aside from maybe Wernickle) who could give him the answers he seeks. Still, the reporter can’t help feeling a bit uneasy about entrusting himself to diagnostic tools on a budget.

The Walrider manifests itself as a disembodied head, whistling through it’s cheeks, seeking to reassure it’s host with a trill of sound. Miles smiles, close-lipped, stroking the odd contours of its face with a gentle hand.

“Alright. I mean we’ve come this far. What other choice do we have?”

With that, the anxious human hybrid takes a seat, the next test subject for this experimental apparatus going on torture device. Waylon straps him in, tying the buckles too tight to be comfortable, but Miles suspects it's punishment for trying to pry into the engineer's private life. His head too is bridled in place, another belt across the forehead to keep him securely in an upright position.

“This will monitor your heart rate,” Waylon says, electrode pads stuck to Miles’ temple, and then after a moment a disclaimer, “I am not a doctor, though.”

“You’ll be able to tell me more about the Walrider, right,” the brunette asks, nervously clenching his hands on the arm rest.

Waylon hesitates, less than confidently offering a, “Yeah,” in response.

[princesscolumbia]

Ānzhuōniichuan - Chapter 1: That Butterfly Died a Long Time Ago

Thankfully, this particular idea is not a megawork waiting to happen, just a novel's worth of ideas and arcs that came to me while I was putting the finishing touches on Double Isekai ch. 9.

Summary:

Thousands of years ago, long before anyone keeping records even knew of the place, Jusenkyo created one of the more exotic pools in its repertoire. This pool would go unnoticed and undiscovered...until an idiot hauls his son through China under the guise of a martial arts training trip.

Notes:

As of the time of posting, all Romanized Chinese is provided via Google Translate, which we all know sucks. If you know enough Chinese to spot and make corrections, please do so in the notes and I'll make the adjustments as I get the chance. Note about pronouns: Kickin' it old-school with this one; When Ranma's (and others with gender-related curses) in male form, male pronouns will be used. Similar for female form and pronouns. There's simply going to be too much going on at various points in this to provide the necessary cues via narrative at all the places to show which body they're in without breaking the flow. (Plus, and this is a teeny spoiler for something that comes up later in this fic, Ranma is gender-fluid and bi for this one) (...I know, I'm writing a Ranma that's not a purely Sapphic transwoman? Me?! Who'd have thought?) Oh, one more thing; this has a single change to the established Ranma 1/2 canon timeline. Yup, just one. Good ol' butterfly effect means that this one change means a LOT of little differences crop up over time, and the change happening thousands of years prior means that there's a LOT of these little oddities. If you're reading and say, "Wait, that didn't happen that way..." it's specifically because of the one alteration cascading through time. ...claiming full credit and ownership of the OC, though. 😎

Preview under the cut:

"Pops, get yer furry ass BACK HERE!" shouted the now cute, short, and girly martial artist. Not cute! Rough and tough and manly, damnit! The ground they were running across was shifting, which made sense. The entire valley was littered with spring pools, it wasn't surprising that the soil would be loose. That said, she and her currently panda father were far too skilled as martial artists to let some loose topsoil hinder them.

Surprise human male to the face...not so much.

Ranma's one real thought as she took a human person's mass to her torso and head was, Hey, he looks familiar! just before he impacted with her. She felt them both slam into the weak soil and the entire surface started to shift. Thinking quickly, she grabbed first a handful of grasses, then a handful of the shirt the other boy was wearing and held on as what turned out to be the embankment of a bluff, not quite a cliff but close to it, that overlooked a section of the Pools of Sorrow. She felt her shoulders nearly yank out of their sockets as gravity hauled the boy down into the valley. Remembering the abject terror she experienced not minutes before as she surfaced from the source of her own life-altering change, she was not going to let that happen to anyone else if she could help it. "Grab on!" she shouted, "Hold on to something!"

The boy (Why does he look so familiar?!) shook his head to clear it and looked around before looking up at her, "It's fine, I'm a martial artist. Just drop me, I'll land in that water down there."

"Nononono!!! You do NOT want to land in that water!" she felt more than heard the grass she was gripping in her other hand starting to tear. She may have a fairly sizeable handful and her grip was trained by no fewer than four obscure martial arts her old man had dragged her to over the years that focused on weirdly specific stuff like that, but grass was grass was grass and this wasn't going to hold up under their combined weights. "Trust me," she practically shouted, "Falling in this water is very bad!" She glanced around herself, trying to find anything that would give her purchase to keep them from taking another dunk. Unfortunately, when the ground beneath them gave way, not only did it break off some of the bluff and take them down with it, the remaining earth, an almost wet clay from what she could tell, was angled away from her. She was basically being held aloft by tearing grasses and her wrist as she held the training ground's next apparent victim over what looked like a fairly out-of-the-way pool. Right over it. As in, even if she managed to swing him somehow, she wouldn't be able to get him far enough out to avoid landing in the water.

"I can swim, it's okay, really! Don't hurt yourself on my account, miss!"

"I'm not a 'miss,' you idiot!" At his baffled expression, she started getting a little frantic and it was coming out in her voice, cracking an octave higher than she liked, "I woke up with a dick and no boobs this morning!"

He seemed to get it, at least enough to react the way she intended him to, eyes going wide. Unfortunately, just as he was raising his hands to grab onto her wrist, his shirt tore. In Ranma's defense, it looked like it was an older shirt that had seen one too many days on the road.

Ranma felt like time was going in slow motion as the boy fell to the water. This particular pool didn't have a shoot of bamboo sticking out of it, so that potential fall hazard was, thankfully, not there. On the other hand, if he was a martial artist like he said he coulda grabbed the pole...not like it matters now... As the splash pattered to the ground and surface of the pool, she realized that this particular pool wasn't as deep as the one she had fallen into...not that it made any difference in the end result. Huh...I guess there's two girl springs...? she thought absently. The freshly minted girl made her way slowly to her feet, water coming up to about her thighs. The torn shirt was substantially more filled out in the chest than it had been previously, and the girl's previously black hair was now a shockingly pretty green color that somehow looked right on her and made the black and yellow bandana on her head stand out in a very cute and attractive way. Well, at least the springs make some real lookers, she thought. "Oh, jeeze!" she hollered down, "I'm so sorry!"

The girl looked up and Ranma could swear her eyes kinda flashed at her, but that was probably a trick of the light.

Just then, the guide managed to run down the path between the springs. "Mister customer...! Oh, another customer! Not need run so much! Was going to..." the man clearly wasn't nearly up to Ranma's fitness level as he stopped and huddled down, hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

As though everything else that happened weren't enough, she heard the sound of the grass tearing further and had just enough time to say, "Oh fu~!!!" before she felt gravity get its revenge and yank her down. She managed, by sheer dint of the training her father had put her through, to reflexively grab onto the one thing between her and the pool, which was the other teen's backpack. She found herself practically wrapping around it like a particularly affectionate vine, not wanting to test what happens when you fall into two pools on the same day.

Which was, apparently, a valid concern. "Aiyah!" gasped the guide, "Mister customer be very careful! If fall into two pools the..."

...which was exactly when the straps on the backpack, sized for the brick of muscle and bone the other girl had been not five minutes before and not the willowy (if well endowed) form the other teen had now, chose that moment to fall off her shoulders and drop Ranma in the fairly shallow water.

As she surfaced (not hard to do, she merely had to sit up...though that task was made a little harder by the surprisingly heavy pack that planted her firmly on the spring's floor), she heard the guide say with a very disheartened voice, "...curses mix..."

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!" came a voice that sounded light and willowy as a hand reached down and hefted the pack from Ranma's body. This freed up her hands so she could rub the water out of her eyes and she looked up and saw the new face of the other teen...and found herself oddly transfixed, even if just for a moment. It wasn't quite like when she saw a pretty girl and her heart skipped a beat, or at least it was different enough from that feeling that she could identify it as different, but it wasn't anything she could remember feeling with anything or anyone else before.

"'S'okay, it aint like I didn't already take a dunk. Guess I'm just now double-girl or something." She took the other new girl's offered hand and together they waded their way to the dry bank.

"Very strange, not sure what spring customers fall in..." the guide's words trailed off as he scratched his head.

Ranma looked back to the pool and then at the guide again, "Aint it just another girl spring or somethin'?"

The guide shook his head, "Customer no understand; only one of any type of spring in all valley." He pointed at the spring right next to the one they had fallen into, "That Spring of Drowned Pig, tragic story of pig who fall into spring and drown over 400 year ago." Both Ranma and the other girl looked at the still water with alarm and very deliberately moved to stand over next to the guide, "No be another Spring of Drowned Pig until this one dry up or get buried and another pig drown in different, fresh spring. Mister Customer," he indicated Ranma, "Already fall in Spring of Drowned Girl, but I not see this spring before," he pointed at the still rippling waters, "Look like bluff fall, uncover spring, I think? Not happen often, but surprised spring not buried when bluff fell."

"Well, whatever," she sighed, "I...need pants. Can you get me back to my pack? And, I dunno, maybe help us find a cure or somethin'? We're both supposed t'be guys."

"Ah, yes! Mister Customer and other customer run away before I could explain; curse only part time. You always be cursed, but get normal body back with hot water." The two girls blinked owlishly at him, so he clarified, "Cold water now turn you into cursed form," he waved up and down at their new bodies, "Hot water turn back into mans. I have kettle at home, will change you back."

They both heaved a sigh of relief, "Well," said the new girl, "It aint a cure, but it's not as bad as it could be."

"Oh, gods!" exclaimed Ranma, "I thought I was stuck like this forever! Lead the way, sir, I need pants!"

(Read the rest at AO3)

[artemiseamoon]

Preview: Queen of Poisons

2nd to last chapter | Fic info

Words: 10,065 (new record! Sweet Kevva!)

Early release was direct to A03 earlier today.

Warnings: see masterpost & a03 tags

About: As the longest night of their lives continues, Ezra has to grapple with his father's appearance as well as the events to come. Even with a solid team at her side, Nyx struggles with sticking to the plan, or making a new one of her own. Decisions are made on all ends that leads the final showdown.

Read on A03

Ezra cleared the room once the man invited himself in. Aja’s upstairs with Navika. Jett went off to another room, busying herself with sending out warnings, Julien and Jah headed off to the clubhouse to check in with the pack.

Nyx has never seen Ezra like this; his body still, his eyes turbulent storms, his expression tight. Ezra never said much about his dad, or his past in general. But the little she knew was enough - this wasn’t good. In fact, Ezra was sure the man was long dead.

It’s been tense silence since he entered, Nyx remains at Ezra’s side, holding one of his arms with her hand.

The older man studies her, then the room, all the while keeping a cool collected air about him. Then, he speaks,

“Believe it or not son, I kept an eye on you, over the years.”

Ezra’s eyes narrowed, “don’t call me that.”

His father leisurely walks the room. “I thought about visiting for some time - “

Ezra cut in sharply, “this ain't a visit!”

The older man continues anyway, “I heard about what's happening, so I came.”

“Why?” Nyx asked.

“To help.”

Ezra heads for the door, “we don’t need your fucking help - “

“I’m offering it anyway. You don’t know what you’re dealing with, I do.”

The reveal makes Ezra stop in his tracks; he turns to his father.

“Ezra, “he steps closer until Ezra gives him a warning look, then stops. “You and I, we have a lot to discuss, after all this-”

“Get to the point,” Nyx cut in, “you know what we’re dealing with?”

He nods, “that man was crazy before, just never to this - crazy.”

Nyx goes over to Ezra. She takes his hand in hers and whispers, “I’ll kick him out. I’m happy to do it-”

“He could be lying,” Ezra shoots him a cold look, his eyes warming once he focuses on Nyx again, “but he could be telling the truth.”

“We get the intel, then kick his ass out...I can stab him if you want?”

“I like you being protective over me -” Ezra gives her hand a squeeze, then lets it go.

Read all 10k of this chapter on A03

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[lookedlikethebins]

if it was you that made my body (preview!)

hey all! i've decided to give a little preview bc honestly i've been having a bit of a rough time recently and i'm trying to keep my Creative Gears turning so i don't find myself in a rut. so here we are! to be posted on my ao3 very soon (literally the moment the denouement cooperates lol).

basic summary: takes places during the months recording abiior in the residential studio; matty ruminating on his ideas of God and maybe being someone born without any holy supervision. [~900 words]

It was Matty’s turn to do the laundry. Part of him dreaded the return of the chore—how many clothes could four guys go through in just a week?—but another part of him liked the physicality of the task: using both arms to carry the clothes down the stairs to the washing machine; the repetitive back and forth of sorting the heap into the correct color-oriented piles; the extra heft when pulling the soaked clothes from the washer to take outside; the up and down from basket to clothesline; the focused grip of the plastic clothespins with his slightly damp hands, hoping it didn’t slip out from between his pinched fingers again; the echo of fabric, now wet and coarse, remaining on his palms as he walked back inside.

Once the weather tipped toward spring, Matty began putting their wash outside to dry. Climbing into bed Sunday night after all the beds had been remade and sleep shirts returned to their correct owners, it was a small pleasure to smell the slow, soothing breeze and lingering feeling of light and warmth of the day just passed. One last memory of another day alive and spent with the people Matty loved most.

Matty’s therapist, assigned to him as part of his discharge process, frequently advised Matty to search for such small, simple pleasures of life. Not the silver lining—which acknowledged a little too much that everything sucked and only a small outline was redeemable—but that there was a complete moment of beauty to be found in everything.

To Matty, the entire idea felt too much like his therapist was trying to describe the act of acknowledging divinity, of finding God in the mundane—just as He created it. Matty knew many sobriety programs leaned on the idea or shape of a higher power to which people could offer up their life (and, to him, the idea of autonomy). As if it was a comfort to believe Matty’s ability to remain clean was in the hands of something he occasionally humored the idea of believing in.

But while God couldn’t quite be a comfort to Matty, those simple pleasures and joys could be. Remembering each one created a sort of calendar; something easy to peer back on and balance out Matty’s habit of consistently remembering, without fail, when days were bad and when they were worse, and seemingly never when they were good. Even when they were just survived.

The day previous, Saturday: playing cards with Adam, but stopping after only playing a hand so he could teach Matty how to shuffle the deck like he was some sort of casino worker.

Friday: chopping vegetables for George when he volunteered to cook them dinner and realizing George actually knew how to julienne vegetables properly.

Thursday: Ross showing both concern and care when he knocked on the bathroom door to check on Matty in the bath. Matty had fallen asleep—his book now completely waterlogged—and had no idea it had almost been an hour. Ross hadn’t been upset with Matty, nor did he spread his worry to the other two guys, but he knocked loudly and firmly, asking Matty to please answer him. The real simple joy was Ross’s soft thank you and do you need a towel? once he heard Matty answer. He never asked him to open the door.

Wednesday: George, without a word and without being asked, getting up to make Matty a cup of tea in the middle of the night to try and soothe him after another nightmare of withdrawal. Of retching, coughing, shaking, and suffering at the hand of a body desperate for something Matty no longer wanted, no longer needed.

Tuesday: being asked if he wanted another jumper when he began trembling from a sudden drop in his body temperature—a byproduct of his change in metabolism and body weight—and Ross ignoring Matty’s decline and pulling his own to push over Matty’s head. Adam helping force Matty’s arms through the sleeves.

Monday: waking up to George’s hand gently resting on his stomach and head resting on Matty’s shoulder. Matty was still able to smell the whispers of the tall grass on his pillowcase beside the smell of George’s new rosemary shampoo.

From the clothesline, Matty could see the dining area through the large, square, single-paned window. To the right was a smaller, porthole-like window that hovered above the sink and currently framed Ross as he did the washing up. George was sitting at the dining table, leaning on both his elbows, and Adam was sitting in the chair opposite George but turned to face the kitchen.

All the windows were closed and Matty couldn’t hear them, but he knew the look of joy and comfort well enough on his friends’ faces to still be able to track the conversation.To know the way George’s shoulders shook with each choppy laugh, only growing louder—Ross or Adam continuing to riff and getting him to lean back in his chair or tip forward and fall to the side. To hear the steady bubble of Ross’s laughter that, with the warmth of his happiness, sometimes sounded like it was muffled orunderwater. To track the body language of his friends—across two windowpanes—and see the exhales of spent laughter and know that was the moment Adam was going to slip in another joke and get them going again.

Now, Matty had Sunday: observing joy from the outside and realizing it wasn’t as foreign to him as he once thought; Matty’s brain didn’t process it as a possibility of social torture or discomfort—or disappointment.

[lavellenchanted]

Year of the OTP

January | Fake Dating

I did not manage to get the entire thing finished, but please enjoy a preview of the next installment of the Steggy fake dating AU for month one of year of the OTP.

Dr Helen Cho is a doctoral student, who explains as she lets Steven and Peggy into her office that she’s running this study as part of the research for her thesis - which uses a lot of complicated language but  Steve eventually understands is, essentially, exploring the psychology of intimacy. 

In his mind he had conjured an image of someone clinical and dispassionate in a white lab coat with a clipboard, but Dr Cho’s in jeans and a tailored navy blue blazer, a university lanyard around her neck and a pen tucked behind her ear, just visible where her hair is swept back into a knot at the base of her neck. Her eyes were warm and she clearly cares about her subject.

“That’s why we’re focusing on romantic couples first - moving from dating to cohabiting will naturally impact how intimacy develops and is experienced, but I’m not just looking at it from a romantic perspective. I’m also planning on running studies on platonic and familial relationships as well,” she says, gesturing for them to sit in the chair opposite her desk, while she settles herself and readies her laptop for taking notes. 

Steve can’t help thinking that if she had started with her platonic study first, he would have been saved a lot of bother. Although he supposes that strictly speaking platonic might not the best word to use for a friendship where one side is trying to conceal the fact that they’re in love with the other

“That’s also why you two make such a fascinating case to have as part of the study, as a couple that cohabited platonically before you started a romantic relationship,” Dr Cho continues. “I’m very interested to see how your data will compare with our other couples.”

She smiles at them, clasping her hands on the desk in front of her, and has such a poised, confident air that Steve is immediately sure she’s going to see straight through their lying. Which, honestly, would be no more than they deserve; now that he’s met her, he cannot help feeling a twist of guilt, and fervently hopes what they’re doing won’t completely skew her data.

Maybe she can sense his discomfort, or maybe she’s just trying to act the part, but whatever the reason Peggy reaches across to lace her fingers with his and rest their joined hands on his thigh. The weight is warm and reassuring - albeit a little distracting - and grounds himself enough to take a breath.

They’re doing this because they’re desperate, he reminds himself. It’s this, or an eviction notice.

“Well, we can’t wait to get started,” Peggy says.

“Great. Let’s just get straight into it, shall we? This will just be an informal conversation, so I can get to know you outside what you put in your applications and learn more about your relationship. Then I’ve put together a questionnaire for you to take home and fill in separately before the next session. Are you both happy for me to record this?”

“Record it?” Steve repeats warily.

“Yes, just audio, not on camera.” Dr Cho holds up a dictaphone. “It makes it easier for note taking and means I can replay your answers - it won’t be shared with anyone, nor will there be any copies.”

“Oh, well, sure, I guess.” Steve glances at Peggy who nods, seemingly completely at ease with the whole process.

A few moments later, the recording has started and Dr Cho has her fingers hovering over her keyboard, set to type as they speak. 

“So - you’ve been dating for eight months, but you’ve been living together for a year, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Did you know each other before you started living together?”

Peggy shakes her head. “No. I only moved to New York a year ago, to study law at Columbia, and I answered Steve’s listing looking for a roommate. We’d never met before that.”

“Have either of you ever cohabited with a romantic partner before?”

“No,” Steve says, but at the same time Peggy, a flush stealing over her cheeks, says in a clearly reluctant voice, “. . . Yes.”

He stares at her. She keeps her eyes fixed so determinedly on Dr Cho that he can’t help thinking she’s deliberately avoiding looking at him.

If Dr Cho notices his surprise, she diplomatically chooses not to comment on it and instead continues focusing on Peggy, “May I ask how long ago? And how long you lived together?”

A grimace flickers across her face, but a beat passes and then she sighs and says shortly. “About five years ago. We only lived together for a few months - five, I think? No more than that. Then we broke up. It was a disaster.”

The jealousy that has started clawing its way up Steve’s insides loosens its hold a little to hear her put so bluntly, but it doesn’t dissipate entirely. Which is ridiculous, he knows, since he’s not actually her boyfriend - and even if he were there’s no reason to feel jealous over a relationship from half a decade ago, he can hardly expect her not to have a past. 

But that’s just the problem. He thought he knew all about her past, only now he’s discovering that there are things she’s kept from him. It’s not just jealousy churning in his stomach but hurt, and a kind of feeling of betrayal. 

What else hasn’t she told him? And why? 

Dr Cho has made a few notes, her keystrokes loud in the quiet of her office, and now asks,“Could you describe for me the differences you found in starting to date someone after having lived together compared to moving in with someone you were already dating?”

Peggy’s silent for a time before answering, sitting back in her chair, her mouth twisting slightly to one side in the way it does when she’s thinking carefully about something.

“I suppose . . . with Fred - my ex - it was kind of like a shattering of illusions. We both thought we knew each other, but when we started living together we realised we’d both been trying to be these - these polished, perfect versions of ourselves, hiding our flaws, and when they came out we were inevitably disappointed with one another. Whereas, with Steve - ” 

Her gaze darts briefly to Steve and her blush deepens. Assuming she’s embarrassed about whatever story she’s about to make up, Steve gently squeezes her fingers, trying to offer her some reassurance that he’s still here with her and they’re in this together. Whatever other surprises she might have in store, that isn’t going to change. 

“With Steve, we really did know each other far better. It felt . . . it felt like jumping into a relationship much further down the line. Which has its own pressures, but still. We were already so close, it somehow didn’t feel like our relationship changed that much. There was a much stronger foundation there, I think.”

Steve smiles, and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face just how much he wishes what Peggy was saying was true.

[stepswowdsen]

Update [11-11-2024]

I've been a bit busy so I'll post an update :) I will cross post this onto main eventually. I recently received merch hauls from Japan.

I'm very happy to get to add to my JuAli, LimGuda, KuroEne, and Hibari and Xanxus merch collections 🥰💗 I've added to my collection of physical merch of my fave charas and ships <3

I haven't included my scans yet, but I will post them on my main @/stepswordsen when I do. For now, this is a lil update from me

Sen's Merch Hauls:

KHR merch (Akira Amano's The Characters Exhibition official merch, Xanxus and Hibari anime merch) ❤️💜

KagePro official merch (9/6 focused, Kuroha, Ene, Konoha merch and KagePro official artbooks) 🖤💛💙

FGO official and fan-merch (Douman and LimGuda) 💚🧡

Magi official and fan-merch (Judar and JuAli focused, official merch using Ohtaka's arts with Judar and JuAli, Magi anime merch of Judar, JuAli doujinshi) 🖤❤️💛

I took pictures of them, but it's night time so the lighting isn't very good (at night in my room, it casts a shadow on the pages). I'll retake them and post them with better lighting on main eventually.

Things like merch hauls I originally only posted on Insta, but I'll eventually be cross-posting them on my main.

I originally intended to keep my main account as just an art blog, but my friends convinced me to start posting my scans publically, so I'll eventually post my scans there. I also understand wanting to archive arts for archival purposes.

When I do, I will post them on main. I scan things for my fave interests: KHR, Magi, KagePro, and many more!

These are image previews from external sources, NOT my scans. My scans are much more high quality.

KHR

I got my hands on Akira Amano's KHR Exhibition artworks and scanned her "Akira Amano in Kyoto" KHR postcard set artworks.

I plan to scan stuff from Amano's The Characters Exhibition. I prioritize anything of Xanxus and Hibari, my KHR faves. On a secondary level, I prioritize anything of the Varia ^^

Xanxus is wearing purple and blue feathers in the recent art... Selena colours... This is such fuel for my XanLena ship ❤️💜💙

(Selena is my Viet NB KHR OC ^^ My wife!!! An assassin with a soft and gentle personality that prefers to keep to herself. Can be aloof at times. She likes gardening and collecting clothes as hobbies, and collecting endangered species, has man-eating/poisonous plants)

Magi

I think most Magi official arts have been scanned already, but I do intend to scan some Magi things eventually. I plan on translating the JuAli doujinshi I have eventually, and I have some Magi official arts to scan.

I do believe I have the JuAli chibi stickers and Nininbaori tournament Omake to scan (I bought the physical paper since it wasn't included in the volume version grrr)

They're arts that are already available online, but I think it'll still be cool to scan :) I prioritize anything related to Judar and Alibaba, my Magi faves.

KagePro

I have a LOT of official KagePro artbooks now! I intend to scan stuff from them eventually:

Kagerou Daze Official Visual Fanbook

.dsd Sidu Illustration Works 2011 - 2015

.dsd/V Sidu MV material Works 2011 - 2018

Mekakucity V's Blu-Ray Limited Edition

Kagerou Daze Official Visual Fanbook: Contains early KagePro concept arts from 2011 - 2013, and Sidu's MV storyboards of Children Record and Konoha's State of the World

.dsd Sidu Illustration Works 2011 - 2015: Contains KagePro concept arts from 2013, KagePro MV, LN, and merch arts, misc doodles, etc.

.dsd/V Sidu MV material Works 2011 - 2018: Contains Sidu's new KagePro illustrations for .dsd/V, MV artworks and storyboards for KagePro song MVs: daze, days, Shissou Word, and Additional Memory

Mekakucity V's Blu-Ray Limited Edition: Blu-ray release that contains KagePro's original 14 MVs. The Limited Edition comes with mini booklets that contain arts and storyboards for the KagePro MVs, including Outer Science. I have both the black and white cover versions. The only difference is the cover. The contents are the same.

Rambles

Kuroha/Saeru: Outer Science illustration from Sidu's artbook .dsd/V - Can Badge Merch

As always, I prioritize 9/6 when it comes to archiving KagePro arts (anything related to Kuroha, Takane/Ene, Haruka, Konoha). Other than 9/6, I'm interested in archiving Ayano and Mary's arts. I do intend to scan other chara arts later ^^

I'll be scanning slowly at my own pace, whenever I have free time. I'm still an amateur/hobbyist scanner, so please excuse if there are particles like dust on my scans.

I tend to re-scan stuff a LOT to try and remove as much of it as possible. Scanning is very time consuming and something I do as a hobby. My scanner scans very slow, but the quality comes out relatively good ^^ So I'll try my best.

Since Sidu's artbooks are 200 pages. I'll mainly focus on Sidu's new KagePro artworks in .dsd/V since most of them haven't been scanned online. Though I do intend to scan the other stuff eventually.

I sifted through the pages of .dsd/V, Sidu's most recent artbook that contains new KagePro arts that haven't been scanned yet.

I can already tell Sidu's Outer Science Kuroha/Saeru illust in .dsd/V is gonna give me so much trouble to try to scan and edit 😭

The colours are MUCH darker in the physical book. I'm pretty sure KagePro merch that uses Sidu's .dsd/V arts brightened the colours

I'll do my best. If the scan doesn't come out good, I also have mutuals in the scanlation community that can help me to make the scan look passable 🙏

I keep FGO scans private to mutuals only because FGO's official and fan-artists are VERY active in the community. They generally have rules to NOT share their personal works and doujinshis publically, which I will respect.

Scanning

I was originally very private about my interests and only talked about them in private Discord servers with friends, but I've opened up a lot more and started posting ideas publically within the past year :)

I think Tumblr has a file limit so the super high-res versions can't be posted, but I'll post them at a still relatively good quality

At first I only shared scans with my mutuals because I was very against the idea of my scans getting circulated beyond my control, reposted in low quality, and people possibly misusing my scans, etc.

I'd feel disrespected if that happened, cuz scanning is something I do in my free time.

My friends also do scanning stuff, and they also understood why some scanners are more selective about their scans. I was in this category too - I only let my mutuals have access to my scans.

Some scanners have laxer or stricter rules, choosing to share publically or only sharing in private spaces. I was only sharing my scans in private spaces since 2021.

My mutuals will have access to the OG files of my scans because I trust them to not misuse them. It gives me more comfort when I know who I personally gave permission to.

With that being said, I'd find it very disingenuous if people tried to become mutuals with me just to have access to my scans. Like... stuff like that happens naturally.

The exceptions in which I would give permission to non-mutuals to access the OG files of my scans would be if you're a scanner/archiver intending to edit and clean my scans, etc., for a community. If it's for something like a fandom wiki, I would generally give permission.

[pcnnyworth]

incoming message from @risensoldier — ❛ you got me flowers? ❜

Three quarks for Muster Mark, for Master Jason had yet to endure the sufficient amount of concussions essential to forget what context clues were. Worried as Alfred’s ageing, foolish mind had been that his ward may have developed colour blindness in some paint factory catastrophe, faith in Master Jason’s basic optic and olfactory observations was thoroughly restored. Granted, Alfred had better audio descriptions prepared for his arrangements than most museums had for their artefacts, and he would have been ecstatic to orate the details of his floral masterpiece down to how many specks of dirt were used to grow the filler floaters. He has been faced with more appreciative audiences, true, and such audiences often had faces, but in the same vein has he been tortured by fresh English tomato juice running down his friar’s habit. At least he knew whatever red substance came from the recipient of his Biedermeier-themed blood, sweat, and tears would be easy to scrub out.

A preview of the auricular curriculum, lest his podcasting experience go to waste: a ceramic compote bowl in a burnt sienna, hand-painted with patterns of birds that are most certainly not robins. Blue hydrangeas swirled into white peonies, peppered with forget-me-nots and leaves larger than his own palm. Who said fire hazards couldn’t ravish the eyes and unfortunate sinuses alike? He accounted for them meeting somewhere with the vague privacy of being a pair among many, cabs being hailed at a breakneck pace across the street and fruit being haggled for somewhere nearby. With Master Jason, though, the wild card was sameself with the deck’s trump. So the scenery was unfamiliar. So the man himself was unfamiliar. Must it matter?

‘ That is generally what they’re called, yes, ‘ Alfred replied in lieu of mannered elaboration, internal organs far too focused on preventing total bodily failure to manhandle his heart into talking. He coughed into a white-knuckled fist and retracted the bouquet by just an inch. Then again, the work of a masked vigilante had to list keen ‘ Would another gift have better conveyed my appreciation for your… earlier assistance? ‘

The mere inkling of doubt about his presentation of presents sent his blood pressure soaring. ‘ Would a recording of my panned performance in The Taming of the Shrew suffice? I believe I destroyed every physical copy afterwards in a horseradish-fueled rampage, but I’m sure we’ll be able to find something in the national archives. ‘ Which nation? Take a stroll through the almanack, something of that chlorotic circuit was bound to manifest. He fiddled with the twine bow around the vase. Meaningless decoration. For once he wished intention could outweigh objective intimation.

[bratkook]

right now. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost , right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, smut, idiots to lovers!! word count. 14.8k warnings. two mega fucking idiots<33, miscommunication/dumb assumptions, smut in forms of: fingering, oral sex (f.), orgasm denial, spanking, some spit bc duh, unprotected sex, super sweet & lovey!! also jungkook is a sweetheart pls love him summary. coming to terms with your feelings after getting off to the idea of your close friend is a little harder than you thought, but how long can you take before jungkook decides its time to move on? note. did jlin forget how to write for a few weeks? yes, yes she did....i know this took a long time but life is rough man so forgive me... but anyways lol the final part to the not yet!verse is hereeeee! thank you to @kithtaehyung​ for reading this over for me ily!! thank you guys for enjoying this mini series, the response was really unexpected but im sososo happy over every comment/ask i’ve gotten for this story. once again, tysm for your love and let me know what you think<3

The evening sun illuminates Jungkook’s apartment, golden hour bouncing off every reflective surface and straight into his eyes the second he walks in, immediately squinting as he makes a beeline to shut the blinds. His head was already throbbing from the hangover that decided to peak around noon, a mean case of nausea putting a damper on his work day. So as much as he loved soaking in some vitamin D today was not the day. 

“Are you joking?” he huffs as he brings down the blinds, hand yanking at the flimsy string in an attempt to get it unstuck. “How stup—you’d think with the amount I pay every month in rent the blinds would work!” 

Alright, so maybe he was a little grumpy today, choosing to take it out on an inanimate object and blame it purely on the bad decisions made last night—definitely had nothing to do with the residual moping of you going on a date. This could be fixed, easily. 

The first order of business? Texting you to see if you’d be interested in devouring greasy food from your favorite place down the street. He’d get to see you and finally put something in his stomach, it’s the best of both worlds really. 

Jungkook forgets about the blinds, leaving them stuck in the awkward position as he walks away entirely, fishing his phone out of his pocket while he enters his room. It’s the same text he always sends when he’s hangry: If I don’t get food in the next 15 mins I'm burning this place down and taking you with me. 

He knows the response he’ll get, either that meme of the child in front of a burning house or an equally hangry paragraph. The phone gets tossed onto his bed as he changes out of his work clothes, needing to dispose of the business casual attire that was suffocating him, his old college hoodie giving him the comfort he needs. 

By the time he’s finally slipping on his sneakers he’s expecting you to come knocking on his door, your impatient attitude always putting a smile on his face. Half of the time your neighbors thought you were having arguments from the way you’d pound onto the slab of wood, saying his name with just enough annoyance laced into each syllable it would fool anyone into thinking you were actually upset instead of being a brat. But when that never comes, he reaches for his phone again. 

A few notifications fill up his screen, some instagram direct message previews, his group chat that he never responded to, and a few emails coming through, but you had yet to respond. Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Jungkook knows you’re home because he passed by your parked car on his way in. So his mind jumps to two extremes: you were either face down, drowning in your bathtub, or that yellow shades wearing wannabe version of himself was at your place. 

Not an ounce of shame sits within him as he speedwalks to the side his bed was on, placing both palms onto the wall before his ear was pressed against the cold drywall. Jungkook’s not really sure what would make him feel good, hearing you and Jung Hoseok together, or hearing nothing at all. His ears strain to hear anything, but the only sound he gets is his own blood pumping. 

With a small pout he pulls back, deciding he’d play the annoying neighbor role today and pound on your door instead. It’s a role he doesn’t take lightly, knuckles banging on the wood loud enough for you to hear wherever you were in your apartment. It takes a few minutes before any sign of life is shown, your door creaking open, and Jungkook is thankful because he was about to head to the maintenance office to ask for a key in case you actually were drowning in your bathtub. 

“C’mon, let’s get food,” he declares instantly, a charming smile on his face as he stands with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. The smile slowly falls off when he gets a good look at you, hair looking like a mess on your head and your fluffy blanket draped around you as you give out a weak cough. “Are you sick?”

“I think so,” you rasp out, leaning against your door frame and tugging the blanket tighter around you. 

“Did that fucker give you mono?” Jungkook looks irritated, brows pinched together in a grimace—something you’re definitely not accustomed to seeing so you almost don’t catch his accusation.

“Jungkook, no! It’s nothing serious.”

He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugs anyways, positive you weren’t interested in getting interrogated when you were feeling under the weather. “Alright, let me know if you need me to drive you to the doctor if it becomes something serious.”

With a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you wave him off, slowly shutting the door behind you. Your eye immediately peeks through your peephole, not relaxing until he makes his way down the hall and enters the elevator, still on his quest for greasy food. 

“God, how old are you?” you grumble to yourself, yanking the blanket off your body and onto the floor with a huff. Pretending to be sick to avoid your friend was a new low, especially after the post-orgasm epiphany you had last night. A sane person would come to terms with their feelings and confess to them, uncertainty and possible rejection be damned! But you? No, you have to fake a cold like the giant coward you are. 

The guilt only deepens when a knock comes from your door an hour later, a quick peek through your peephole allowing you to see Jungkook setting two plastic bags on the floor before stepping back and walking to his apartment next door. You don’t come out until you hear his door shut, seeing the logo of your favorite diner down the street. No doubt would your comfort meal be inside the takeaway container. 

It takes all you have to not rush over to his place and say you were lying when you see he had also gone ahead and got you cold medication, a few different bottles because he surely didn’t know which was best, along with teas and some cough drops. 

You’re a dirty liar. A horrible friend too. 

That doesn’t stop you from devouring the meal in the takeout box as you’re hunched over your breakfast bar like a little gremlin. “This is just for today,” you mumble out to yourself as you set the plastic fork down and chug some of the leftover alcohol you had in your fridge. It’s your own version of a pity party, except the food feels heavy in your stomach, knowing the man you were avoiding was the one who bought it—bring on the guilt. 

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

You’re a dirty liar and horrible friend 2.0. Why this time? Because tomorrow stretched out a few more days than planned. It wasn’t entirely intentional at first, getting stuck at work longer than usual and missing the weekly hangout at your place where you got your remote covered in cheeto dust as you argued over what to watch. But it trickled down onto shorter replies to his texts, or you scrambling out of your apartment and into the elevator so fast in order to not run into him, your mind still trying to list all the pros and cons to this potential relationship before you even had the guts to confess to your feelings. 

Jungkook didn’t know thats what was occupying your mind, no he was currently thinking the worst. He notices the change instantly, recognizing it because this was the exact way you had acted while you were with Hajoon, right before you broke the news to him that you needed to keep some distance while you focused on your relationship. So Jungkook automatically assumes that your sudden change in behavior after going on a single date with Jung Hoseok, was because you wanted to make your relationship with this man work. 

His assumption stings—a lot actually—and soon enough he stops initiating conversations altogether. He didn’t want to hear you tell him you had to distance yourself again, he’s not sure his heart could handle that a second time, so he decides to get ahead of the curb and take a massive step away from you. It hurts him to know you’re right next door, and just like before, it’s like you’re back to being total strangers. 

Safe to say Jungkook was currently going on his own downward spiral. 

You could text him like nothing had happened and he’d accept it with open arms, but instead you text your best friend an SOS text, begging her to meet you at your place. She calls you dramatic at first, but once you say it’s about Jungkook she shows up at your place in record time. 

“Did you finally fuck him?” Is her greeting of choice, spoken shamelessly from the hallway with no worry about her volume. She cackles when you yank the bottle of wine from her grasp and tug her into your apartment, letting the door slam behind her. 

“You’re lucky he’s not home you bitch.” An eye roll is her only response, yanking the bottle back and making her way into your kitchen to grab the opener. 

“So you didn’t fuck him?” The cork pops at her question, a curious glance staring you down as she pours the red liquid into an oversized cup. 

“No Seulgi, I didn’t fuck him. But I did...something.” It makes your face warm up as you remember it, gratefully grabbing the cup she hands your way because you definitely need some liquid courage before confessing to your sins.

She hums in thought as she raids your pantry for something to munch on, settling on a bag of mini pretzels before leading you to your couch, needing to know the gossip that led to your sos text. “Okay, did you accidentally send him a nude then?”

“No, that wouldn’t be so bad I think?” Sending him an accidental nude would be laughable, probably resolved by a few screaming texts and dumb jokes before moving on. But new feelings seeing the light of day seemed so much worse. “But I sort of kissed him at a club a few weeks ago to get back at Hajoon—long story,” you cut in when you see her ready to fire off questions. 

“And then I went on that failed Tinder date I told you about, and when I got home I sort of heard him, you know,”— you mimic a jerking off motion with your hand and ignore her lewd gasp, “and then I…” you trail off shamefully. 

“No!” she gasps even louder, hand pressed to her mouth and eyes wide. 

“Yes! And the fucking orgasm opened my eyes and made me realize that maybe that tiny crush you guys always joke about him having is real, and maybe I have a tiny crush on him too.”

“Does he know?”

“That I like him?”

“No, that you rubbed one out while listening to him you dirty slut!” Oh she’s loving this, leaning back into your cushions with a handful of pretzels resting on her boobs, a sly smile on her lips as she takes a sip of her wine. She’s the one who planted the seed in your mind, playfully joking about Jungkook any chance she got, saying he had the hots for you because she enjoyed the flustered look on your face. No doubt would she text the group chat with the news the second you finish this cry for help. 

“Do you think I told him? I can barely come to terms with the fact that I like him. Like what am I supposed to do?”

She sighs dramatically, munching on the final pretzel on her tits before sitting up and dusting off the crumbs from her shirt. “Look, I know you’re just realizing that he likes you so this is still new and fresh for you, but we’ve noticed it for years. It’s fine that you didn’t see it, you had other things occupying your mind.” 

You frown as you stare at the rug beneath your feet, remembering how life was when you first moved into this complex. Getting out of a previous relationship weeks prior, when you had met Jungkook your mind was not interested in pursuing anything with him regardless of how cute you thought he was. It made it easier for you to form a friendship, not worried about trying to impress him, or flirt with him, allowing him to see you for who you truly are. 

Jungkook had his fair share of girlfriends during the years, none of which were entirely serious but by the time he was completely single you had met Hajoon, and he had accepted the fact that maybe you were better off as friends and he would just admire you from afar. That is, until you decided to plant one on him. So technically this is your fault. 

“Jungkook likes you okay, and I’m sure if you just marched next door and told him you like him too he’ll drop on one knee and marry you.”

“Shut up,” you snort, shoving her shoulder with a smile. 

“As a matter of fact, go over there right now!” She stands up from her spot, yanking your arms to haul you up with her. 

“I told you, he’s not home. But, I’ll tell him. I have to.”

Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest as she stares at you, clearly displeased that she wouldn’t be witness to this love story unfolding in real time. “You better. You never know what sneaky little bitch is trying to get him to get over you.”

The sneaky little bitch in question is Park Jimin, currently sitting directly across from Jungkook, guzzling down beer like his life depends on it. It's impressive really, how quickly he empties the cup, eyes shut looking as content as could be even in the dim lighting. Jungkook can only watch with a grimace as his friend sets the glass down and wipes at his mouth with no sense of table manners. 

“What?” he burps, proceeding to pour more of the golden liquid into his cup from the pitcher in the middle of the table. 

“I always forget how absolutely disgusting you are. How do you do it?” Jimin just frowns at the question, not entirely understanding so Jungkook continues. “What switch do you flip to go from sipping champagne to chugging beer like a fucking biker.”

“It’s a talent, I know.” He smiles wide, reaching forward to grip Jungkook’s hand and force him to grab his own cup. Condensation was pooling around the bottom from sitting there untouched, and that just wouldn’t do on Jimin’s watch. “C’mon, drink it!”

“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, raising the glass and allowing Jimin to clank the cups together before taking a big gulp. He doesn’t clear the cup like his friend did seconds prior but it's enough to appease him. It tastes absolutely bitter the whole way down, settling into his stomach uncomfortably, and the look on his face as he pushes the glass away from him is very telling. 

Boisterous shouts fill the sports bar they were in, huddles of people surrounding the tables and booths as they watched the current soccer match playing on the televisions lining the walls. Jungkook honestly feels like a debby downer now, moping in his seat instead of enjoying the atmosphere with his friend like they normally did. The current game was definitely not the reason Jungkook had texted Jimin to grab drinks, no he needed an outlet to talk about you—preferably in a space that didn’t have walls as thin as his apartment.  

When he barely acknowledges the plate of wings set in front of him Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to dig in because he knew once he did he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Are you gonna be like this the entire time?”

“Like what?” Jungkook has the gall to ask, acting as if he wasn’t looking like a wounded animal. 

“Like you just discovered your wife of ten years is having an affair with your sister.”

He sits up straighter at that, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus.“

Jimin knew the jist of what was happening through the texts he had received the past week, but it seems like Jungkook didn’t want to jump into the topic of it at all now that they were sitting across from each other. He just sighs before deciding to be honest, wasting no time beating around the bush to hopefully be the voice of reason Jungkook needs. “You’ve been simping over her for years JK, and I get it, you think she could be the one. But what about you huh? It’s not fair for you to have your heart wrung out each time she gets a man and decides to put the friendship on pause—“

“That happened once!” He defends, brows pinched on his forehead as he shakes his head, ready to explain your situation because he wasn’t a fan of hearing his friend say anything about you when he didn’t truly know what happened. “The dude was a piece of shit and basically told her it was him or me. I’m not gonna crucify her for wanting a long term relationship to work.”

“Right, so she’s not icing you out again because she got a new man? That’s literally what you told me, it’s why I bought you this sympathy pitcher of beer!”

“Fuck you, you bought this pitcher for yourself.” Jimin had chugged two giant glasses of beer already, and was steadily working on his third, whereas Jungkook’s watered down cup remained relatively untouched. “Besides, I was just...spiraling and assumed when I sent you that desperate text. But I haven’t heard anything.”

Jimin can only stare blankly at the table as he processes what was just said before locking eyes with his friend once more, “Sorry, what? You haven’t heard anything? The hell kind of riddle is that.”

Jungkook sinks into the booth with a look of shame, not wanting to admit to occasionally laying in his bed at night in complete and total silence just to see if he could hear you and the hypothetical version of Jung Hoseok doing literally anything. It’s not one of his proudest moments, feeling like a bit of a creeper as he laid stiff on his bed, too scared to make a sound.  “Nothing, forget about it. Point is, I haven’t seen the fucker come in or out of her place, so what does that mean?”

A deep sigh comes from Jimin, hand reaching forward to push the beer closer to Jungkook, desperately trying to get him to drink and ease up. “It means you pay far too much attention to her. When was the last time you got any action?”

Two weeks ago. From his hand and filthy imagination. 

“A few months,” he grumbles, remembering his last hook up that happened a few days before he discovered you got dumped. 

“Get outta here.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he points to the door. “Literally, go stand at the corner outside, show some thighs or a tattooed titty and take your pick of the swarm of girls that will surely follow you.”

Jungkook thinks he’s joking, but when his friend doesn’t drop his hand and narrows his eyes threateningly he knows he’s being serious. “My tits aren’t even tattooed,”—his large palms press against his shirt covered chest as if to prove a point— “And you sound like a douchebag talking like this.”

“What? She went on a tinder date and definitely got laid, so you need to even out the playing field. Also, it might help you chill the hell out.”

“Oh my god, you’re not helping.” Jungkook really didn’t need that visual again, it had flashed in his mind too often the night of his pity party and now it was once again at the front of his brain. 

“Alright, okay. I’m throwing out my safe word right now.” Jimin leans closer, arms resting on the table with a confused look on his face. “What do you need from me here? Like, do I play the role of a supportive friend who wants you to get over her, or do I play the role of a friend who wants you to confess? Because you’re giving me some mixed signals Jeon.”

A groan escapes Jungkook, fingers rubbing at his eyes before dragging down his face as he sinks even further into his seat. “I don’t know.” 

It’s the truth. Jungkook had no idea what he wanted his friend to do to help him. He knew that although his feelings for you have weighed heavy on his chest for what seems like years, you technically had no idea, so he feels a little guilty over his frustration for the whole situation. You were newly single again and determined to go through this self proclaimed wild phase so Jungkook isn’t dumb enough to think you can’t go out and do whatever you want, even if that means being with someone who isn’t him. 

“Look,” Jimin sighs, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You only have two choices here, tell her how you feel and accept whatever comes with it, or make peace with the idea of just being friends. Either way, I think you need to loosen up and have fun tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jungkook sits himself up, wrapping his fingers around the cup in an effort to at least look like he wanted to be here. He couldn’t sit here and mope about a problem like this when he hadn’t attempted to come out and tell you how he feels. 

One night of loosening up to get you off his mind wouldn’t hurt, if anything it might help him come to his senses. At least that’s what Jimin was currently whispering with a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure you don’t black out and get home safe. Who knows, you might get plastered enough to drunk text your confession.”

Jungkook glares at his friend, not liking the goofy look on his face as he starts to laugh. “I swear to god, you better not let me get to that point. Take my phone away from me.”

Jimin obviously wants to see the world burn, or at least he enjoys it when Jungkook somehow digs himself into his own grave. That's exactly why he responds with a million laughing emojis when Jungkook texts him asking why the hell he hadn’t taken his phone last night. 

He did a good job hiding his shock when a knock came from his front door, half expecting it to be you, keeping a smile on his face as he allowed  the person who was very clearly not you in before swiftly entering his bathroom. Jungkook wants to stay locked here forever, holed up while he sits on his toilet and not in the living room with company. It wasn’t like it was bad company either, his drunken ass going through his contact list and sending an invitation to hangout the following day to the last person he spoke to, Aillie. 

The girl is sweet, someone he had a casual fling with for months, someone who was used to his random texts so she doesn’t think twice before agreeing. The only silver lining to this was that he hadn’t sent you a typo-filled drunken confession, which is what Jimin responds with before telling him to suck it up and leave his bathroom. 

Jungkook accepts his fate, as well as accepting that he is partially responsible for this. He shoves his device back into his pockets before standing up and flushing the toilet for show, washing his hands just to stall. One good glance at his reflection makes him cringe, stained shirt and sweats combo leaves him looking like the unprepared mess he is. Another detour through his room to change was a must before he has no choice but to step back out. 

“You’re totally hung over aren’t you?” Aillie jokes from her spot on the couch, comfortable enough in his apartment from the time spent here. She locks her phone as she stands up, taking her time to really look Jungkook over. He was not dressed like someone who was expecting a guest, and despite having seen Jungkook at his sloppiest, his previous attire of oversized shirt and slightly stained sweatpants didn’t look like someone who was expecting a fuck buddy to pop over. Even with his new outfit looking more put together, it was obvious Jungkook was caught off guard by her showing up. 

“What?” Jungkook dumbly asks, trying to come up with some lame excuse to justify his earlier appearance but he falls short. His fingers gently rake through his hair, a grimace falling on his face as he looks back up at her. “Actually, a little. Sorry, I got drunk last night when I text you so sober me was not really prepared.”

“Yeah I figured, you sent me some blurry selfies right after. But we can just hang, we don’t have to do anything,” she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. The only time they ever hung out was to hook up, having ten minute conversations before and after the fact. “Or I can leave too if it's weird that I’m here.” 

Jungkook is shaking his head before she can even finish, already feeling bad enough after texting her to come over. How shitty would he be if he immediately kicked her out. This was fine, a nice distraction from it all, decent middle ground that would help him get his mind off you without having to take Jimin’s douchebag advice. 

“No, we can watch a movie or something. It’s not like I have other plans.” Had this been two weeks ago it would be a totally different story. Jungkook would typically be waiting in his apartment as he stared at the slowly ticking clock, just waiting for it to strike 7:30 because that's when you usually got home. Then he’d either get a text from you to come over with snacks or you’d show up at his door and invite yourself over for the weekly game night. 

It didn’t happen last week, or the week prior, so Jungkook is very confident that it would not be happening today either. It’s that same sense of confidence—and saltiness—that allows him to get comfortable with Aillie, blissfully unaware that you had just pulled into the parking garage a few stories below. 

“I swear to god if you don’t go straight to his door the minute you get off the elevator I will never let you live it down.” Seulgi’s voice fills your car through the speakers, fading out as you shut the car off and bring your phone to your ear to continue the conversation. 

“Dude, I just got off work. I need to make myself look decent.” Plastic bags rustle together as you grab the snacks you had picked up on your way home, all full of yours and Jungkook's favorite treats. It was definitely a guilt fueled purchase, hoping the items were enough to distract him from the fact that you were kind of a bitch for ghosting him recently, or at least butter him up into accepting your apology easier. 

“You think Jungkook cares if you’re a little sweaty from work? He’s a grown man, that’s not gonna stop him from going do—“

“Okay, goodbye!” You hastily cut her off as you press the elevator button, hearing her rambling off about being interrupted. “I’m about to get on the elevator, I’ll tell you how it goes.”

With a small sigh you hang up and stuff the device into your purse, stepping onto the lift as the doors open up and pressing the number for your floor. Your hands are clammy as you grip the plastic bag, uncharacteristically nervous about seeing Jungkook again after so long. 

The main obstacle for you to get over was apologizing for being a crappy friend, and if that went well you were going to suck it up and just come out and confess, the odds of him saying no were slim. And even if he did, you’re perfectly content with staying friends, as long as you could keep him close. 

It’s that same optimistic mentality that allows you to calm down as you enter your place and decide to give yourself a minute to mentally prepare. His favorite ice cream gets put into the freezer for later before you decide to shower and give yourself a pep talk the entire time. 

This pep talk of yours is filled with best case scenarios: Jungkook accepting the confession with open arms, finally being able to kiss him properly, everything falling into place the way it should have a long time ago. And as you head over, totally sober, freshly washed, looking and smelling your best, you really can’t picture this going any other way. 

With a deep breath you’re knocking on his front door, quickly pulling back your hand and wiping it onto your pants as you step back. Jungkook hears the knock clearly from his spot on the couch, his gaze tearing away from the television to stare at his front door with a small frown. He hadn’t ordered any food and Aillie had just excused herself to use his bathroom so his brain is having a hard time wondering who it could be. 

He curses under his breath, not putting it past himself to have texted a second person last night with an invitation to hang out. Why was Jungkook a friendly drunk?

As he presses his eye against the peephole and spots you standing there, he thinks he’s imagining things. It had seemed like so long since he had last seen you in person, and the warped fish-eyed version of you has him stepping back and rubbing his eyes before taking another glance. He suddenly feels like throwing up, and he can’t blame his earlier hangover on it. 

For a brief second he contemplates pretending he hadn’t heard you, but the guilt of doing so makes his heart twist, so he musters up the courage to open the door. It’s barely a crack really, just enough for you to see him while still concealing his apartment, something you definitely found strange because you’re usually flinging the door open and strutting right in, but you suppose his reaction is warranted considering your previous behavior. 

“Y/N, hey. Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine!” Your fingers tangle together in front of you, not entirely sure what to do with your nerves and Jungkook spots it easily. His own nerves sky rocket when he hears the sound of running water coming from his bathroom a few feet away, knowing Aillie would most likely pop out any second now, and he’s not sure why it feels like a dirty secret that he has another girl over. 

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about something kind of important.” Your smile is hopeful, despite the nerves swirling in your eyes. The nervous skip of your heart is felt in your throat, not remembering the last time you had felt this way about telling someone how you felt about them romantically. 

“Right now?” he wonders, fingers gripping the door handle tighter when he hears his bathroom door unlock, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner before stepping into the living room, a few feet away from the door and in perfect view of the wedge Jungkook had opened. 

When your eyes flicker over his shoulder, spotting the auburn haired girl giving you a curious glance, you feel all your confidence slip away. Seulgi had definitely been right about needing to confess soon, Jungkook was a catch and just because you hadn’t realized it sooner didn’t mean the rest of the world was blind to it. 

“Yeah, right now...but you’re busy, so it’s fine!” You want to scramble away from there, feeling dumb the longer you stand there. Jungkook wants to say he’s not busy, kick the girl out of his place and invite you in but that wouldn’t be fair to her, for all he knew your important conversation would be a repeat of the conversation you had over Hajoon, and he really didn't want to get friendship dumped while this girl was in his apartment. He’s pretty sure his Yelp rating would drop a bit if he cried on the couch about you to his old hook up. 

He starts to speak but you cut him off before he can, “Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you later.” You force a smile before walking away, not allowing him to get a word in as you quickly step into your apartment and move to the furthest room away from your bedroom. 

You can feel the cold of your kitchen floor as you sit on your butt, back against your cabinets, the small twinge of defeat spreading within you. “This is fine. Maybe she’s just a friend. I can always tell him tomorrow,” you whisper out. But your fingers seem to think otherwise as they type out a message to Seulgi, informing her that the mission was unsuccessful and you’d be putting on The Notebook like you always did. It was basically protocol to do so when things went south in your life. 

She doesn’t even know how to console you, knowing she can’t tell you it was his loss or that he wasn’t worth it because she knows that’d be a lie and you wouldn’t believe it for a second. The only thing she can offer is coming over, but you’re quick to turn her down, deciding that being alone in the comfort of your bed as you inhaled the ice cream you bought for Jungkook would be best. 

Is being in your room the wisest choice when you know you share a wall with Jungkook—and he has a cute girl over? No. Probably not. But you figure if you hear anything explicit it’s just your dose of karma, so you accept it, turning up the volume of the movie a few levels just to soften the blow. 

However, Jungkook would definitely not be hooking up with her in his bedroom, or anywhere in his apartment for that matter. Luckily Aillie is blessed with the gift of reading the damn room and can easily spot the shift in Jungkook’s mood the second he shuts the door. She’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, hands gently placed on her knees as she gives him a sympathetic smile. 

“I get the vibe that somethings off.”

He looks up at her then, slowing his pace until he’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “My friend—my neighbor just wanted to talk about something. But everything’s fine.”

The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, and Aillie doesn’t believe him in the slightest. A small sigh fills the air as she stands up, collecting her bag and approaching him. “Look, I know deep talks really aren’t our thing so I’m not going to even try to dive into this, but you should go talk to your friend.”

A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder before she makes her way to the door to leave, Jungkook already following closely behind her. “No, you don’t have to go. You came all this way because I texted you with way too much tequila in my system.”

“Jungkook,” she laughs, opening the door with a smile. “You’re way too sweet for your own good. It was nice seeing you though.” Her eyes slowly move over to your front door before looking back at him, head cocking to the side in a very clear indication that he better go over. He can only nod in understanding, waving her goodbye and shutting the door once she heads down to the elevator. 

The action sounds of the movie they were watching continues to fill his apartment, whatever chaos was going on only making his brain whirl so he’s quick to grab the remote and shut it off entirely. Now he’s just stuck in complete silence, wondering if he should quickly make his way over to yours or play it calm and collected. 

The total silence allows him to hear the muffled mumbling of a movie he knew all too well. It draws him in, lures him into his bedroom until he’s kneeling on the mattress with his ear pressed against the wall to properly make it out. You were watching the Notebook, at a concerning volume, which could mean a number of things. Jungkook knew none of them were good, usually rooted in issues you had with your ex, or a tough day at work, or any particular day where you just felt like crying. 

With a deep breath, he’s slowly knocking along his wall, almost experimentally, hoping it's enough to grab your attention through the current scene playing. For a second he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep while watching the film, but then the room falls silent as you pause it entirely. 

Your hearts racing now, ears straining to hear anything else and hoping this wasn’t how the beginning of the explicit noises would start, but then another knock comes from behind you. It makes you gasp, like you’ve just been caught being the nosey neighbor you are, hearing the soft scrape of his hand sliding down the wall. The ice cream gets put onto your nightstand as you sit up properly, forcing yourself out of the mountain of pillows you were practically suffocating in and turning around to knock back.

Jungkook’s palm presses back onto the wall, smiling at your response before fishing his phone out of his pocket. His fingers find your thread of messages, further down the list than he was used to, and as he opens them up and sees the string of unanswered texts dating back to two weeks ago, it stings just like it did before. He pushes his pride aside though, knowing you had wanted to talk today in person, so he proceeds to quadruple text you. 

Jungkook 8:44pm : are you seriously watching the notebook again?

You’re unlocking your phone the second it buzzes, smiling at the dimly lit screen before typing out a response. 

Y/N 8:45pm : shut up, it’s my comfort movie

Y/N 8:45pm : do you wanna watch it with me? for old times sake

The device is locked and placed face down onto your sheets the second you hit send, sinking into the pillows once again as you try not to scream at yourself because you know he’ll hear you. Why would you invite him over when he clearly has company? You had seen her with your own eyes, had seen how cute she is, had seen how cute Jungkook is, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

Jungkook is quick though, texting back in agreement and heading over instantly. If you were watching your comfort movie then Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay. Putting the past two weeks behind him, knowing you’d most likely have a good enough explanation—an explanation he would definitely be needing before the night was over—he’s knocking on your door before you can even check your messages. 

It takes you a minute to untangle your limbs from your covers as you hastily try to get to your door, sock clad feet sliding along your wooden floors when you finally yank the door open. Jungkook wears a soft smile as he stares down at you, taking note that you had switched your outfit to your usual sad movie binge attire of baggy shirt and lounge shorts. His eyes zero in on your lips when he notices there's something lingering at the corner of them. 

“So, are you gonna share whatever the hell that is?” His finger points at it smugly, laughing when your tongue peeks out to wipe it away. 

“It was actually meant to be for you.” Stepping aside, you let him enter your place. Jungkook almost feels a little strange being here after the weird few weeks, but he pushes it aside, just wanting things to feel normal. 

“Does that mean there’s no more left?” His eyes playfully narrow at you as you step closer, moving on to stare at the kitchen table, and the coffee table in search of the tub of ice cream that supposedly had his name on it. The earlier nerves you felt slowly fade away when you realize he’s not visibly upset about what happened, but it only makes your guilt deepen that despite your ability to be a crummy friend, Jungkook would still try his best to come through for you. 

“There’s about half of it left, it’s probably a little soft now though.” You side step him to enter the kitchen, grabbing an extra spoon and handing it over as a peace treaty, smiling when he gratefully accepts it. “C’mon, I paused the movie.”

Jungkook is not a stranger to your bedroom, especially when sappy movies were playing, finding his spot easily on the right side where he typically handed you tissues whenever you cried. The tissues were missing this time, in place of them being the bag of snacks you had bought, his ice cream on the other nightstand. 

“What part are you on?” he asks, settling onto the bed after fluffing up the pillows, waving his hands so you could pass the tub of ice cream his way. 

“It just started raining on the boat.” Jungkook hums, scooping out some of the chocolate ice cream and into his mouth. He knew this scene very well, and when you press play, he mentally repeats all of the lines. Just as Noah declares he wrote her 365 letters, you awkwardly clear your throat, your own spoon slowly sneaking over to his side to steal some ice cream for yourself. 

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with your date.” Your voice sounds timid, something he’s not used to hearing from you at all, so he chuckles, laughing harder when you swat at his arm. “I’m serious, I should have texted you before just showing up.”

“Really? When have you ever done that before?” The two of you never notified the other when they wanted to show up, Jungkook had even given you the code to his place once when he was at work and you were desperate for some fruity pebbles—you used that code to your advantage and Jungkook never hated it. But all things considered, it's fair why you think you would have to give him a heads up. 

“You didn’t make it awkward though.” It’s not the complete truth, you coming over is what had made Aillie decide to leave, but Jungkook had to take most of the credit for it. “I kinda made it awkward from the beginning.”

“Why, what happened?”

“I went out last night with Jimin“ —you immediately hum in understanding, knowing very well how convincing Jimin could be with alcohol— “and apparently I texted her to hang out today, had no recollection, so when she showed up I was definitely not ready.”

“Damn, this is how I know you’re a better person than I am. If that happened to me, the second I checked my peephole and saw someone I didn’t remember inviting over, I’m gonna pretend I’m not home.”

“Yeah well, she lives like an hour away so I’d feel like an ass if I did that. Don’t think I’ll be talking to her again any time soon though.” He sighs in thought, gently tapping his spoon on the surface of the softening ice cream. There was one thing weighing heavy on his mind, needing to know what important thing you had to talk to him about, wondering if you were actually going to friendship dump him earlier and he had just made it worse by coming over and hanging out like old times. 

He doesn’t want to come right out and ask it though, not wanting to set himself up for an awkward conversation in case that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, so he settles for something safe enough that would allow him to get a glimpse. 

“So how are things with Hoseok?” Yeah, that’s a good start. 

“Huh?” Your spoon freezes in its spot, face clearly looking confused in the dim glow of the television, the movie long forgotten now that you were speaking. 

“Tinder guy? Yellow sunglasses guy that gave you mono?” 

It suddenly clicks again, having forgotten all about Jung Hoseok the second you had gotten home from the failed date and came to terms with your feelings. Your lie of having a cold must have been believable enough for Jungkook to genuinely think he had given you something like mono. 

“He didn’t give me mono!” Jungkook rolls his eyes with a playful smile, humming along like he totally believes you. “But I didn’t tell you?”

He frowns as he stares at you, not entirely sure how to take your tone. “Tell me what? That you’re engaged and the wedding is in June?”

“No way,” you laugh, swatting his spoon away with a clank as you grab some ice cream before shoving it in your mouth, fighting against the brain freeze to continue speaking. “Our date was a bust.”

“How? Was it that bad?” He desperately wanted to know, having convinced himself the date had gone spectacularly well and you were now an exclusive item. The small twinge of guilt is felt when he realizes he’s a little too happy that the date had been a failure, but he allows himself to have this small, tiny victory. 

“Mm, it was so good it was bad.” He looks utterly confused, and you don’t blame him, so you elaborate. “He was this perfect gentleman who just wanted to play games, like to the point where he had a notebook where he was tallying our points, and then he walked me to my car and kissed my cheek goodbye.”

“Oh the horror!” Jungkook gasps, setting his spoon down to clutch his heart in dramatics. “How dare he try to romance you with a game night.”

“Jungkook, shut up!” you laugh, finally feeling like everything was right again, sitting in bed with your closest friend as you teased each other. “Look, I’ll give him some credit. The date was nice, he was not the sleazy douchebag his profile made him out to be, and I’m sure he’ll find the perfect girl for him on Tinder. But he clearly wanted something serious and—“

“And you don’t want that right now. It’s fair.” Of course you would turn him down, you had just decided to embark on this new adventure in the single world. It was kind of dumb for Jungkook to assume one date with Tinder Boy would be enough for you to give up your short lived dream. 

You take a steady breath at his words before taking another scoop of ice cream, lips wrapped around the spoon as you slowly pull it out of your mouth. The nerves are trickling back in, making your heart skip and your eyes bounce around. If you don’t come out and say it now, you know you never will. 

Your spoon joins his in the tub of ice cream before you decide to move it back to the nightstand, forcing yourself to look back at him, seeing him turned away as he rummages through the plastic bag full of snacks. “I don’t want that with him.”

Jungkook freezes, the rustling of plastic ceases as his hands come back to his sides and he turns back around. With him. He was the king of jumping to worse case scenarios so his brain has no issues coming to this very horrible conclusion. 

“Have you been talking to Hajoon again?”

“No, Jungkook I haven’t.”

“Are you sure? I’m saying this now, but if you get back with him I will not hesitate to pop him in the face if I run into him in the halls. It’s fair game out there, neutral territory for him to get his ass beat—“

“It’s you.”

His brain short circuits at that, mini versions of himself currently running around and screaming in his head as he tries to make sense of this. The first instinct he has is to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t been talking to Hajoon again, and laugh it off. But you look a little too vulnerable right now, eyes nervously looking at him and then looking away at his lingering silence. 

“Wait, what?” It’s the only thing he can sputter out, caught off guard by your words, not wanting to say anything else in case the world was cruel enough for him to have completely misheard you. 

“I don’t want that with Tinder Boy or Hajoon, I want it with you.” It gets a little easier saying it a second time, but his reaction is hard to gauge. You had been expecting him to reciprocate the confession instantly, but the longer he looked shocked only made you think that you and Seulgi had been seriously wrong about his supposed crush. 

Jungkook is having a difficult time trying to go from you ghosting him to you suddenly admitting to liking him, the change in emotions not allowing him to say anything he had practiced in the mirror for so long. He can’t come out and give you a speech about how he thinks you’re the one, how you’re obviously a good match together, brain too focused on other details. “How long have you known this?”

“For the past two weeks, but deep down I know it’s been longer.”

His wide eyes glance over at you now, everything slowly clicking into place. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Yes,” you mumble, embarrassed over the way you had acted. The last time you had avoided someone was in elementary school, having a best friend go ask your crush if he likes you while you hid in the bathroom, scared of the answer. “I like you Jungkook and I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it cool. I was scared to say something and have you not feel the same and then have our friendship be weird.”

Jungkook smiles in that adorable way you love, nose scrunching up cutely as he leans closer, large palms coming to cup your cheeks. He has wanted to hear this for so long, and sure, maybe it wasn’t some super romantic confession over a candlelit dinner like he had occasionally dreamed of, but this felt right. 

“You’re so stupid,” he whispers out, thumb softly caressing your cheek as he chuckles, feeling the way your lips turn into a frown at his harmless insult. 

“Jungkook, I’m being serious,” you whine, heart still pounding in your chest. Your hands come up to gently wrap around his wrists, allowing him to continue to squish your cheeks with that endearing look on his face. 

“I’m being serious too Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Jungkook did everything he did with you out of pure friendliness, never expecting to get something in return from it, but there was a small sprinkling of a crush in every one of his actions. “I like you too, and I have for a really long time.”

The relief you feel comes instantly, lips slowly pulling into a smile when you finally have the confidence to look directly into his eyes again. If this is how light you feel after the two weeks spent freaking out, you can only imagine how Jungkook feels. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, can I please kiss you?” You’re nodding the second the question leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his hands glide down to cup your jaw, soft lips slowly pressing against yours. It’s a gentle smack of skin as he pulls back, a smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes, softly rubbing his nose against yours. 

“Wait,” he breathes out, chuckling softly. “Is he still looking?” He has the nerve to repeat the same question that had been the root of your guilt, and when your eyes shoot open and glare at him, he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out. 

“I hate you,” you mutter out, not an ounce of truth behind it. 

“Mm, no you don’t.” 

His lips find yours again, falling into a steady rhythm, softer and less rushed than the first kiss you had shared at the club. There’s no pounding bass in the background, or the taste of liquor on your lips, but Jungkook prefers it this way. He likes the low hum of the movie continuing to play in the background, the sweetness of the ice cream lingering on your lips when his tongue gently swipes at the seam of them, the way your hands slowly slide around his neck as he deepens each kiss. 

With each shared breath, you slide further down your bed, pulling Jungkook down with you until he’s hovering directly above you. His knees dig into the sheets, one hand pressed beside your head to keep himself stable as you urge him even closer to you. The delicate golden chain he wears kisses your skin, pendant settling onto your chest, the cool sensation is almost enough to distract you as his tongue slowly slips into your mouth. Jungkook groans when you let out a small gasp, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently at the strands by the nape of his neck. 

He wants to remember this kiss instead of the one from the club, embed every gasp you let out into his brain, the way your chest pushes up to feel more of him, how your hands slide down his back, leaving a fiery trail in their path that makes Jungkook shiver. And when you slide your thighs further apart for him, innocently at first, he can’t help it when his lips freeze on yours as you slowly roll your hips upwards. It gives him the same automatic reaction he had gotten at the club, all the blood rushing to his cock instantly, except this time he doesn’t feel the shame he had felt before. There was no ulterior motive to what you were doing, sincerity shown in your confession, shared within each kiss, so Jungkook allows himself to bask in the want he feels for you.

“Y/N,” he groans out when you repeat the action, pulling away from your swollen lips to stare at you through hooded eyes. You’re licking your lips over as your eyes slowly open, a small glimmer evident in them as you tilt your head and pretend to not know what you’re doing.

“What?” you question, leaning up to kiss the edge of his mouth, giggling when he attempts to chase your lips as you pull back, choosing to kiss down his jaw instead. As your tongue gently trails along the side of his neck, you feel the harsh gulp he takes, his fingers bunching up in the sheets beside your head. His neck has always been a weak point for him, turning him into a puddle in seconds, you knew this from the unfiltered conversations you’ve had and it was something you were definitely going to be using to your advantage. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut as you nip at his skin, a visible shiver racking through him. 

“Of course I am,” you hum, letting your hands roam his back, sliding around his front until you’re sneaking past the white fabric of his shirt. When your cool hands meet his skin, he tenses, the muscles on his stomach tightening up as your fingertips trail up his body. You’ve known Jungkook was well defined, lean and toned in all the best places, having seen him shirtless a few times. But being able to touch him like this, feel each stuttered breath and jump of his skin reacting to your touch fueled you. 

Jungkook knows you can feel the racing of his heart now, your palms flat on his chest, each thrum revealing his emotions despite the cool and calm exterior he was trying to have. His hips lower towards yours, resisting the urge to rut into you as you start to suck on his skin. The low hum you let out vibrates against his neck, mixed in with the feeling of your wet lips, and he knows he’s done for. The final blow comes in the form of you swiping your tongue at the blossomed hickey, sweet voice pulling him back to earth as you look at him once more. “I want you Jungkook.”

Oh god, he couldn’t do this. His face pulls into a grimace, begging himself to not instantly cum in his pants at what you just said. How many times has he fantasized about this? Hoped you’d beg him for anything in that same exact voice, dreamed of you kissing and sucking on his skin like you currently were. Jungkook isn’t sure any amount of mental preparation would be enough for this. 

“Say that again please.”

You giggle, finger pushing back a strand of his hair as it falls over his face, tucking it behind his ear. The normal doe eyed look you were accustomed to is nowhere to be found, pupils blown out in lust as he stares at you. Being on the receiving end of this stare fills your stomach with butterflies, the flapping of their wings intensifying as he nudges his nose into yours. 

“I want you.” It’s breathless, spoken so softly through the background noise like a personal secret just for him. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say it, that much is proven true when you repeat it in between kisses, trailing back up his neck in the same path you had taken until you're speaking the words directly against his lips. He swallows them down greedily, groaning into your mouth when his tongue tangles with yours once more. 

“Fuck, you can have me baby.” He chuckles against your mouth when you start to tug at his shirt, yanking the thin material until he has to pull back and slip the tee off himself. The balled fabric gets tossed aside without a care, dark swirls of ink on his arm fully revealed now, each tattoo reminding you of how long you’ve known him, remembering the two pieces that he had when you first met. When he leans back over you, taking his time trailing kisses down your neck, onto your chest until his own hands are slowly tugging your shirt off of you, you decide there’s other things to focus on besides his glorious tattoos.

“Ah, Jungkook,” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair when he kisses the swells of your breast, warm tongue sliding over your nipple before his lips are wrapping around it. His large palm gropes the other, thumb flicking over the pebbled bud, smirking when you push your chest further out for him.

“What baby?” He pulls back to blow a gust of cool air on your nipple, the wetness of his saliva making your skin break out into goosebumps. 

“No teasing.”

Jungkook’s laughing now, eyes peering up at you through his lashes. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna tease you after what you did?” He tsks in disapproval as he continues to kiss down your torso, letting his hands trail down your sides, not stopping until he reaches the hem of your shorts. A kiss is placed above your navel as he pulls the shorts down your legs, toying with the waistband of your black underwear. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

The build up before pleasure will always be your favorite part. The way his hands grip your thighs after tugging your underwear off, fingertips trailing up until his palm is pressing them further apart. It’s impossible to look at him now, the visual of his long hair framing his face as he starts to press wet kisses on your skin is too much to handle. You can feel the warm huff of air when he laughs as your head drops back onto the pillow once more, eyes slipping shut while you wait with anticipation. 

Jungkook wants to comment over how wet you are already, boost his own ego about being able to rile you up with just kissing, but he can see the way you’re already on edge, and he decides he can tease you some more later with what he has in store. Instead, he gives you what you’re mentally pleading him for. Finally pressing his soft lips to your folds, the short gasp you release as his tongue glides up before gently flicking across your clit has him shutting his own eyes, reveling in the way you react to his touch. 

His long fingers spread out your folds before he’s messily spitting onto them, watching the way the glob of saliva trickles down before he’s diving in, falling into the perfect pace with ease. It has your hips rutting up instantly, your hand uncurling its grip from your sheets to travel down your body and find its place tangled in his hair. Jungkook groans against your clit when your fingers grip tightly, yanking the dark strands as the prettiest moan flows out of you. 

“J-just like that, fuck,” you whimper, finally lifting your head up to stare down at him when he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. It sends a spark down your spine, stomach tensing at his rhythm, fully intent to have you fall apart. 

Jungkook wants to push you over the edge, knows he’s talented enough to get you there in record time—he was cocky in the best way—and the way your thighs tremble as he slowly sinks his finger into you proves his point. The slick coating your entrance allows a second finger to slip through with little resistance, a shuddering breath filling the air as he begins to spread his fingers apart, stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

It’s not until his fingers curl up, rubbing along the sweet patch inside of you and you moan out his name, that he realizes he has you right where he wants you. He can’t get himself to look up at you, to see the way your jaw drops as you plead for more. Jungkook knows if his eyes lock with yours too soon he’ll be too weak to be as cruel as he wants to be. 

The pleasure blooms inside you, hips rolling up into his in a way he welcomes, smirk spreading onto his lips when your moans get breathier. He eats you out with determination set in his brows, not satisfied until you’re tightening around his fingers, thighs threatening to close in on either side of his head. The messy way he slurps against you sends you reeling, rutting up into him with need, the wet thump of his fingers blending in with your moans of his name. 

“God, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” He believes you, eyes finally opening up to stare at you. The visual is enough to make his cock throb in his pants, your glassy eyed stare locked onto his, chest rising and falling in time with each choked breath. When he playfully winks at you, your walls pulse around him, seconds away from being pushed over the edge, and that’s when he pulls away. 

The warm glow of your orgasm approaching, just about to crest, gets ripped away from you instantly. It makes you gasp, thighs twitching as your hips attempt to push up back towards his mouth, but he’s having none of that. His shiny lips smile up at you innocently, head tilted to slowly kiss your trembling thighs, chuckling at the small cry of frustration you let out. 

“You taste good baby,” he hums, smooching the skin at the juncture of your thighs, circling around your clit without relieving the pressure you felt. The dull ache has your fingers releasing his hair in defeat, a frown etched onto your lips. 

“Jungkook, that’s mean,” you pant, sitting up and resting on your elbows to properly stare at him. 

“A little, but you deserved it don’t you think?” Jungkook didn’t want to tease you too much, he just wanted to get even for the past two weeks. “You could have had me between your thighs every single night if you would’ve said something soon, so I think you can be patient.”

A firm kiss is pressed to your swollen clit and it makes your whole body shudder, your head dropping back as you take a deep breath to control yourself. “I can’t be patient Kook,” you whine, head leveling back out to give him the most convincing stare you can muster. There's that crease between your brows that he likes when you pinch them together, hands gently raking through his hair, teeth pillowing out your lower lip as you bite down onto it. 

“Please, you can torture me later if you want but not now.” Your words have him cocking up his brow, hands once again gripping the meat of your thighs before he crawls back up your body. The feeling of his chain dragging up your skin has you shivering, breath catching in your throat when he hovers inches above you once more. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before his hand slips between your thighs again. A groan reaches his ears as his fingers circle your clit, covered in your arousal and his saliva, gliding with ease as he works you back to your ruined orgasm. 

His lips find yours, swallowing down the moan you let out when he quickens his pace. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangling with yours with more urgency than before, messy and desperate in a way that had more arousal gushing out of you. The earlier pleasure reignites inside you, your hands sliding around his neck to keep him close, kissing him with fervor, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past between each smack of your lips. 

“Jungkook,” you barely manage to squeal, a few more flicks needed to finally push you over the edge. Your lips are slick with spit as you pull back, jaw slack as you lose yourself in the feeling, and Jungkook easily bookmarks this into his brain to go back to and daydream of whenever he’s bored at work. Your eyes are squeezed shut as the feeling flows through you, not able to see how Jungkook stares at you in awe. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly pulling his hand away when you keen at the sensitivity, thighs twitching on the sheets as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. You’re looking up just in time to see him slip his messy fingers into his mouth, tongue licking them clean and savoring the taste of you. Just as he slides them back out, your fingers wrap around his wrist and lead them directly into your mouth, sinking onto them with your eyes locked on his own. 

Jungkook’s cock jumps in its confines when you suck, tip of your tongue circling his fingertips before popping them back out with a smirk. There’s a brief moment of shock on his features before he’s jumping into action, quickly unbuttoning his jeans in haste that left you giggling on your sheets. 

“What happened to patience?” you tease, laughing harder when he pauses with one foot stuck in the hole of his jeans, a playful glare thrown your way. 

“Oh, now you want patience?” He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, slowly shuffling towards you as he stands beside the bed in just his boxers. Your hands make grabby motions for him, reaching for the waistband of his underwear to tug them down, licking your lips over as his cock springs out. It bobs in the air for a second, thick and heavy, precum collecting at the tip with the prettiest veins on the underside of it. Of course Jungkook and his pretty privilege would have a dick worthy of leaving you speechless. 

Jungkook allows you to ogle at him, confidently wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, hissing slightly at the sensation as he looks down at it, allowing spit to accumulate behind his lips before a string of it escapes and lands right onto his length to help the glide of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight, hand replacing his as he guides your motions, giving an experimental squeeze and enjoying how his abs tense up. 

“I’ve been patient for a long time Y/N. You said you want me right?” You’re nodding instantly, eyes looking away from his shiny length to stare up at him. “How do you want me?”

“Jungkook, just get over here.” He doesn’t resist when you let go of his cock, hands gripping his arm to yank him back onto the bed in a clumsy heap. His legs are a tangled mess, nearly ramming his forehead with yours from the force, shared laughter filling the air as you situate yourself. Jungkook had pictured this a thousand times and this is exactly how he imagined it, full of soft kisses, hushed laughter and goofy smiles, playfulness mixed in with lust all coming together perfectly to make the two of you. 

As he settles between your thighs, your sodden folds inches from his length, you can see the look on his face as his eyes glance in between both of your nightstands. Already knowing the question that was about to spill out, you beat him to the punch. “You don’t need one, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and haven’t been with anyone since…” you trail off, not needing to specify.

Jungkook tries not to look too excited, really, but it’s hard. Every one of his lewd fantasies had involved being able to feel you entirely, and if your thoughts from that night were anything to go by, you definitely want the same. It takes him a second to speak, having to swallow properly to prevent himself from choking on his saliva and embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you smile, biting down onto your bottom lip as he fists his cock, slowly leading it to your dripping center. His free hand rests on your inner thigh, softly palming the skin as the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscles and into your heat. With his gaze locked down to where you connect, he sees inch by inch sink into you, finally bottoming out with a shared gasp.

Jungkook leans over you properly now, hand sliding up to lace with yours as the other rests beside your head, just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You welcome the stretch, the curve of his length inside you, how he cages you in with his body, eyes full of want staring directly at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze because he knows he can’t properly form a sentence right now. 

“Fuck me, please.” With his hips pressed flush against yours, he’s slowly inching back, letting you get used to his size with each thrust. It doesn’t take long before he’s rearing back entirely, thrusting forward with a wet squelch, corner of his lips curling up into a smirk when you moan out his name. Your hand curls around his shoulder, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself steady from the force of his hips. 

Each time the head of his cock would nudge against your bundle of nerves, your nails would sink into his skin, leaving half moon indents that left him groaning in pleasure. Jungkook hadn’t outright told you, but it had become increasingly obvious that he has a slight kink for pain, practically mewling above you as you scratch his back, fucking you with more determination than before. 

“You feel so good,” he rasps, slotting his lips with yours in a messy kiss. The back of your headboard starts to rattle against the wall, bouncing back in time with his hips, and it brings you back to the filthy thoughts you had before. How often you’d hear the same sounds on the opposite side, mixing in with the sharpness of skin connecting together, and you want it. So badly.

“J-jungkook,” you breathe out, letting him pepper more kisses onto you, hips never slowing down. “Can you do something for me?” The tone you use, coated in sugar so sweet he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Anything.”

It’s hard to concentrate on anything else while his cock continues to fuck into you, turning your mind into mush each time he sunk all the way in. He can see the way you try to focus, eyes falling shut with the cutest pout on your kiss swollen lips, finally grabbing onto the reigns of your mind as you spit it out. “Wanna feel you—fuck—spank me, please.”

Only then do his hips slow down, cock throbbing inside of you, fighting the urge to cum before fulfilling your request. The only confirmation that he was agreeing, wholeheartedly, comes when he pulls out of you, moving too quickly for you to protest at the loss of contact. The room spins for a second as his hands grip onto your hips and flip you over with ease, palms gripping the globes of your ass and softly patting them with a chuckle.

“Of course baby,” he murmurs, hooking his arm underneath your stomach to haul you up onto your knees, allowing you to steady yourself before he’s sliding into you once again. The change in position has you keening, his cock sinking deeper than before, the wetness dripping out of you helping him maintain the earlier pace he had. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, back arching in ecstasy as he hits your g-spot with precision, a tiny shriek of his name making him smile.

Jungkook keeps you on edge, strong hands gripping the skin of your hips tightly, mouth dropping open while he pants at the way you pulse around his cock, leaving it coated in your slick. His hand slides down to your ass, a gentle touch being your only warning before he’s pulling his hand back and delivering a swift slap to your skin. Your reaction is immediate, an unrestrained moan sounding like music to his ears. The sharp sting spreads directly to your core, your head bowing forward as you mentally beg him for more, your wish being granted seconds later when he repeats it on the other side.

If the wet sounds of his cock fucking you weren’t filthy enough, the added slap of his palm across your ass definitely topped it off. Jungkook had never seen you so needy, thighs coated in your arousal, gushing around him each time he spanked you until you were creaming his cock. The greedy way your walls suck him in, wanting him closer, deeper than ever, left him mesmerized. 

His hand soothes the dull throb on your skin, a trembling breath reaching his ears as he leans over your back, lips kissing up your spine up until reaching your shoulder. Hot pants of breath hit your skin, making you shiver as his lips trail along the edge of your ear. “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you mewl, voice trembling from the pleasure, rutting your hips in time with his. 

Jungkook’s way of love was a breath of fresh air for you, rough enough to exhilarate you, the force of his hips leaving you scrambling for purchase to prevent you from face planting onto the sheets, gripping onto your hair and tugging it back with enough force to make your body tingle. But it was intertwined with adoration, sweet praise whispered into your ear, lacing his fingers with yours to let you feel secure.

“You’re never getting rid of me baby,” he groans out. The low rasp in his voice makes you tremble, neck straining from his grip in your hair but the burn feels too good to pull away. His small confession has your heart skipping, eyes slipping shut to bask in the overwhelming feeling surrounding you.

“Good,” you manage to pant, “would never dream of it.” After four years of friendship, the beginning stages of getting to know each other, figuring out the right ways to flow with your different personalities, it's all out of the way now, so it’s incredibly easy for you to picture a steady future with him. The breakfast gossiping, shameless club outings, chaotic game nights with snacks thrown at each other, you want everything you already have with him and more. What you have, so rooted in sincerity, built off mutual respect for each other, blossoming into love so pure, you can’t imagine having this with anyone else.

“Y/N,” he gasps, the pulsing of your walls bringing him closer to his climax. “I’m close.”

You can only hum in agreement, burying your face into your pillow when he releases the grip he has in your hair, nipples rubbing against the sheets in time with his thrusts, the sensitivity sending sparks throughout you. Both his hands grip your hips again, dimpling the skin as he quickens his pace, the tantalizing roll of his hips intent to send you over before him. His eyes trail over the curve of your back, how you arch it further to feel more of him, sliding down to your ass, seeing the way it bounces back with each snap of his hips, how you weakly rut back onto him, pussy clamping around his length as your orgasm approached. 

Jungkook slides his hand around you, trailing across your tummy before slipping between your thighs to the spot you needed him most. Even with your face buried in the sheets, the moan you let out is loud enough for Jungkook to hear perfectly, body shuddering as he flicks across your clit in tight circles.  

“Kook, I’m cumming—fuck,” you shout out, white heat enveloping your body as you get sent over the edge. Your mind blanks for a minute, the intensity of your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly, making your limbs tense up while every nerve ending lights up. The only thing you can think of is him, chanting out your name while you pulse around him, sweet words coaxing you through your high, thumb rubbing along the skin of your hips as he never slows his pace. 

As he fucks you through it, groaning out at how tight your walls are around him, you have to turn your head to gasp in a breath, face feeling hot from it all. You can feel how sweaty your skin has become, the back of your neck feeling sticky as your turn to get a glimpse of him, body still shuddering from the aftershocks. 

Jungkook doesn’t have a care for his own volume now, moaning unabashedly as he pistons his hips into you with less grace than before. The soft mewls of overstimulation you let out just bring him closer to his release, thrusts getting sloppier as the pleasure takes over him. 

“Fuck, baby-” he grunts out, mouth dropping open as he moans even louder, finally falling apart. He pushes further into you, head falling forward as his hips press flushed against your ass, warm spurts of his cum filling you up in a way that fulfills your dirtiest fantasies. A few more shallow thrusts has the two of you gasping, hearts pounding in your chests, coming down slowly as he finally stills.

A serene silence falls over you, the movie long turned off in the background, only the low glow of the television letting you know it was still on. With great hesitation, Jungkook finally pulls out of you, gulping when he sees the thick globs of cum spill from your core, dripping down your thighs before landing on the sheets in a sinful mess. Your sheets are well and truly ruined, Jungkook would honestly suggest tossing them in the trash judging by the damp spot directly beneath you.

With a small groan, you’re flopping fully onto your stomach, thighs no longer able to keep yourself up, the exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungkook chuckles when he hears you, soothing your back with a gentle massage. “You’re not sleeping in here babe.”

“Why not,” you slur, cheek pressed against your pillow, eyes already shut. All you wanted to do was lay here, preferably with his arms wrapped around you, but Jungkook clearly has other plans. 

“Because it’s disgusting,” he laughs, giving you a few more seconds of rest before he’s moving around. The dip in the bed lets you know he’s gotten off, one eye peeking open to search for him, seeing him gathering his belongings from the floor.

“Where are you going?”

He shimmies back into his clothes with a grimace, gathering your own items before approaching you once more. “We are going next door and sleeping in my totally clean bed, c’mon.”

You only put up a fight for a second, secretly enjoying the way he helps you get dressed in your earlier clothes, heart swelling in your chest at how domestic it all feels. The mess in your room would have to be dealt with another day, the only important item being the ice cream that finds its way back into the freezer as you both head out of your apartment and swiftly enter his next door.

He’s just as delicate and careful in the shower, taking turns cleaning each other, large hands gripping your ass and giggling like a child when you wince at the small throb of pain you feel. Soft kisses are shared under the showerhead, warm water soothing your body as the room fogs up, sweet confessions scribbled on the glass in his messy writing, topped off with a heart. Jungkook stops you before you can wipe it away, shyly telling you that he’d like to see it reappear the next time he showers.

His bedroom was one you weren’t too familiar with, used to lounging in his living room the most, so as he settles into his bed after getting cozy in his pajamas, you wait for him to call you over before joining him. The coolness of his sheets has you sighing, snuggling into his side with a smile on your lips, one that Jungkook sees as he stares down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Seeing you draped in his clothes, cuddled up beside him in a way you’ve never done before, makes him feel like a giddy teenager. 

“Can I be honest?” he wonders, arm wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. When you hum in confirmation, he laughs sheepishly. “I thought you were going to friendship dump me today.”

“What, why?”

Your head bobs up as he shrugs his shoulders. “The way you were acting reminded me of the last time you told me you wanted to focus on your relationship. I was just scared I was going to lose you again.”

The tone he uses makes your heart ache, the same guilt you felt these past few days coming back when you put yourself in his shoes. You had no idea that the way you were acting would affect him this way, never once imagining that he thought you would cut off this friendship while you were just coming to terms with the fact that you harbored strong feelings for him. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you sigh, palm resting on his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, no longer racing like before, confident and steady in it’s pace because he knows you’re not going anywhere. “I’m stupid, and freaked out after what I did, and just needed to gather my thoughts before saying anything.”

He cranes his head away from you, a confused look on his face. “After what you did? What did you do?”

Fuck.

“Uhm,” you start with a strained laugh, refusing to look up at him out of embarrassment, but the truth has to come out so you power through it.  “So, the night of the date, I sort of got home earlier than I told you I did.”

His eyes narrow at you, refusing to give anything away before he knew where this was going. “Okay, go on.”

“And I sort of heard you through the walls.” You look up at him now, your guilty stare spelling it out for him. His eyes widen before he can conceal his surprise, cheeks warming up instantly because oh boy, he knew exactly where this was going. “And then, I sort of...joined.”

“You lied to me!” he shouts, shocked smile on his face as he recalls the way you had replied to his texts, telling him you had just gotten home and going the extra mile to say you were in a totally different room when in reality, you were sprawled out in your bed after just getting off to the sound of him.

Filthy. And also kind of hot. Jungkook was definitely into that, something he’ll totally proposition you into doing again because why not.  

“I know! I couldn’t help it, it was so hot, and I felt so guilty. But, you’re technically the reason why my orgasm gave me my epiphany and let me realize I really do like you. So, I think I did us both a favor by being a dirty liar.” He’s laughing instantly, fingers gripping your cheeks to turn your head up, planting a firm kiss onto your lips obnoxiously.

“Alright, you’re forgiven. Plus, consider us even because I have definitely heard you getting off on your own plenty of times too.” A squeal of surprise fills the air as you swat at his chest, burying your face into his shirt and feeling the rumble of his laughter. It really wasn’t ever intentional. The walls are thin, you weren’t exactly quiet, and he couldn’t just lay there and ignore it. So call him an opportunist, or a pervert, because you were one too. 

Jungkook is cheeky though, knowing how to get under your skin in the best way, and you can already tell you’re in for a ride when he gets close to your ear and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snort, peering up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“You did say I could torture you later.” He smiles innocently, fingers pinching your chin as he kisses you again. “It’s later.”

The sweet laughter that escapes you makes his heart skip a beat, still not able to come to terms that this was happening and wasn’t some dream of his that he’d wake up from. He kisses the tops of your cheeks first, then your nose, before reaching your lips, his hand gently caressing your skin. Jungkook had no intention of torturing you tonight, knowing how tired you typically were after work on a normal day, and after drawing two orgasms out of you that left you shaking, he knows how close you are to sleep with the way your eyes droop. 

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on crushes and love?” he mumbles against your lips, inching back to stare down at you. 

“I’m glad I stopped looking for it in the wrong places.” Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with his hair before pulling him back to you, reattaching your lips because you just couldn’t seem to get enough of him. 

Every single moment you shared, from moving in and awkwardly trying to get to know each other, the ups and downs of failed relationships, the push that started it all at the club, and every almost moment in between brought you full circle to right now. There probably won’t be a moment where you don’t wish you had done this sooner, worked past your worry of ruining a good friendship in fear of what could happen, but the past helped mold you into who you are, strengthening your relationship to be the way it is now.

Right now had you thinking of the future, and there was nothing more exciting than that.

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2021, Day 17: Quirofilia

Summary:  Why are Mickey’s hands so enticing??

Pairings:  Mickey Henry X Reader

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, public fingering, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  583

Quirofilia is a type of sexual fetish for hands

Previous

Series Masterlist

You lick your lips when you watch those muscled, but yet so elegant hands scratch along the record.  Your eyes travel up his arms, following the prominent vein up the hills and valleys of his muscled bicep.  Feeling yourself heat up when you travel back to his hands.  You know exactly all the ways those hands can be put to good use.  

Remembering all the ways those sinful digits hands roam over your soft skin.  The way his slightly calloused palms tickle, and heat up your skin in the most delicious way.  Giving you the slightest squeezes as he explores your curves.  You try to look away, try to dance, but he’s a menace.  

Mickey knows just what he’s doing, when he finally catches your eyes, he gives three fingers a quick lick before scratching the vinyl.  It’s not fair.  You have to stand here and wait until he’s done with his set.  But then his head flicks up for you to join him, and you don’t want him to wait.  

Making your way up to him, he pulls you stand in front of him.  His hands on top of yours, he guides you how to move.  You can’t focus, you try, because you hear his laughs behind your ears.  He leans over to pepper kisses up your neck, until he’s back to guiding your hands around his turntables.  “Baby doll, if you focus, I’ll give you a preview of what you’re getting when you get home.”

This is what makes you focus on what he’s showing you.  Another kiss to your neck, and his hands drift under the front of your pants, “I knew you were staring at my hands.  Got you dripping for them,” he seizes when he spreads your slick around.  “I’m going to play with your little bean, to your beat.”

You take a deep gulp.  Your fingers scratch along the album, and like he promised he follows your movements.  Stimulating you in the most perfect of ways, and then he enters two fingers in your cunt, his palm now palming your clit, “You’re slowing down.  Watch the people.  They’re looking up here confused.”

It’s ridiculous that he works your body the way he does, and expects you to pay attention to the music.  You go back to focusing on the beat, but still wanting to him to continue his ministrations.  His rings rub against you, creating a chill with your heat.  You lean your head back on his shoulder, and gives you a quick kiss, “Pay attention.  They’re waiting for that grand finale.”

With this admission he begins to work you over.  The crowd pumping their fists with the beat and Mickey’s pumping.  If only they knew.  You can’t hold back anymore.  Your body keening, and your voice whimpering when you come to the edge.  Mickey’s pace is relentless as your cunt sucks his finger back in.  Your knees buckle and he holds you up.  With a deep scratch of the record, your hand holding it still so the needle can’t read it, you cum on his fingers.  The crowd staring at the two of you confused, and Mickey’s hand jerks out of your pants, knocking your hand off the record, before raising and screaming a loud, “Yeah!” and thankfully they’re back dancing.

“Came so hard you made the music stop.”

“Oh shut up, and do that again.”

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Masterlist

Taglist: @thedarkplume​ @johndeaconshands​ @xoxabs88xox​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @duuhrayliegh​ @rebekahdawkins​ @autumnrose40​ @terry2227​

[fxirest-of-them-xll]

@alwayshorrible @pleasuretomeetme combined your fantasy asks for a two for one deal

includes name calling, humiliation, filming, light bondage, denial, exhibitionism, sexting, threesome

When Illinois checks his phone after his latest adventure, he finds several messages waiting for him.

The usual few from Murdock, detailing how agonisingly boring Murderville is without him, asking when he’ll be back, complaining again, and then the Accomplice’s accompanying photos of Murdock looking miserable and sulking while he presumably types those very messages on his phone.

But, less usual, is a single several minute video message from the Accomplice, with only a black screen as the preview. Whether he chooses to watch it immediately or waits until he’s set up a camp comfortable enough to settle in his sleeping bag makes no difference. What waits for him is the same regardless.

It starts on a black screen and muffled sound, the camera seemingly resting on a surface while the Accomplice fiddles with the settings. For a second there’s only the noise of movement and bad audio, before...

“Haaah— Come on, I’m so close, you—you don’t even have to touch me, just—just tell me I can cum, just that, it’d be so easy—“

A voice, breathless and warbling, distorted through the subpar phone speakers and muffled by the Accomplice’s less than perfect camera work, but nonetheless recognisable to Illinois. Any doubt is quickly quashed when the camera shifts, changing orientations to show a blurry mess before it focuses.

Sure enough, it’s Murdock. Splayed out against the familiar sheets of the cabin’s bed, hands tied at the wrists behind his head to the bed frame, and Illinois can see how his arms flex against the restraints, old and new scars alike rippling as he writhes. He’s completely naked, and his pale skin would blend in with the sheets were he not flushed with arousal, his cock brushing against his stomach and smearing pre cum across his naval. His legs are unbound to let him twist and shift and buck his hips as much as he likes.

And he certainly likes to.

There isn’t a moment that he’s still, his thighs clenching and loosening in a desperate gesture as he cants his hips up in a rhythmless chase for release. His face is twisted in an intoxicating mix of ecstasy and agony, his hair slicked to his skin with sweat and red eyes hazy and glazed over with lust. There’s no telling how long he’s been stuck like this. If Illinois pays very close attention, he’ll see the red marks on his wrists where the ropes have started to burn his skin, the stale sweat dampening the sheets, his muscles exhausted and quivering from too long tensed and thrashing...

But there’s still fight in him. His ruby red eyes burn as he catches the camera lens, lip curled in a half snarl, half moan, as he continues to babble, before a firm voice cuts through the recording.

“Quiet.”

The effect is immediate. Murdock’s mouth snaps shut so fast that the click of teeth registers on the recording, and every inch of him goes taut and frozen in place. Only his cock and throat move, both bobbing with an undeniable thrill of pleasure as they watch the Accomplice behind the phone.

“Tell Illinois why you’re here.” The Accomplice speaks, voice much too steady and impassive for the situation they’re observing.

Murdock flushes an even deeper, shameful red, squirming as he averts his eyes from the camera. “I didn’t—This is ridiculous. I’m not doing this.”

“Alright. I suppose I’ll just leave then.” The camera shifts as the Accomplice moves to turn off the recorded, only for Murdock to cry out and twist against his restraints.

“No! No, no, don’t, please, stay—“ He’s almost whining with how strangled his voice sounds. The camera refocuses on him, and even as his gaze stubbornly avoids the lens, the flexing of his hips betrays his arousal at knowing he’s on display.

“You know the rules. Either you tell Illinois what you want, or I can leave you on your own again.” The Accomplice says it with the practiced air of someone whose repeated it before, and Murdock groans with the frustration of someone who’s heard it before, as well. There’s a long few moments where he fights it, retesting his binds, rattling the headboard against the wall as if it might finally give, and his growl of rage when it doesn’t devolves into a keening whine as his cock seeps more precum against him. His hips snap up as he tries to chase the pleasure, but all it does is make him more desperate. Illinois can pinpoint the moment Murdock’s stubbornness snaps, his body slumping back against the sheets.

“Fine, fuck, fine! I—I want you home, Illinois, want you here, want y—“

“Eyes up.”

It’s a testament to how desperate Murdock is when he lifts his eyes to the camera without argument or hesitation. Their blood red is clouded with lust, tears beading at the edges. “—Want you to touch me, please, fuck me, finger me, anything, just, please—“

“But you’ve got perfectly good hands of your own. Why not get yourself off?”

“You know why!” Murdock snaps, the fight rushing back into him as he thrashes against the bed, only to immediately deflate when he sees the Accomplice do.. Something behind the camera that makes him change his tune. “No! Fuck, no, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I promise!”

“I need you, need—need to—mmm..!” He’s trying his best to say something, but even strung up and laid out to be filmed and pulled apart like this, the tatters of his pride remain stubborn.

The Accomplice seems to take pity on him, prompting him from behind the camera. “Can’t cum on your own, can you? Too accustomed to being used. But you tried, didn’t you? Found you fucking yourself on your fingers, stroking your cock, and you didn’t even notice me until it’d already been hours, and you just couldn’t do it, hm?” Murdock moans at the memory, eyes fluttering shut and hips surging up, cock quivering as he tries desperately to recreate the feeling of his own fingers with thin air. “Too ashamed to tell him how you begged me to touch you. Practically grovelled at my feet for it, pathetic and pitiful, just a filthy whore needing to be fucked before they could cum.”

“Yes,” Murdock moans, breathless and warbling.

“Yes what?”

His self control finally snaps completely, his whole body shaking with how taut every muscle is. “Yes, yes, I’m a whore!” He cries. “I’m just a stupid fucking slut, I need you to touch me, please, please, I want to cum so badly, fuck—“

“Good,” The Accomplice hums soothingly, Murdock’s body going limp at the sound, eyes shut, hips raised, waiting for their touch, before the camera shifts again. “Let’s hope your performance convinced him.”

“Wa—wait!” Murdock’s eyes fly open, filled with terror. “You said—You said if I did it, you’d let me cum, you—“

“I said Illinois would let you cum. And he’s not here yet, is he?” The last thing the camera picks up is a flash of the Accomplice’s grin and Murdock’s desperate pleads before...

“Hurry home, darling.”