#I thought I’d have time to spit out some short answers at work but

[reikunrei]

Hiii

questions 2 and 3 of any Free! pairing olus makorin 🤭

oohohohooo yes!!! thank you thank you!

2. Who’s the messiest? The cleanest?

makorin:

I think that, for the most part, both makoto and rin are relatively neat and tidy. rin being tidy is something we’ve had canonically confirmed, and he has that sort of vibe about him, especially for stuff like clothes, the kitchen, and the bathroom. makoto also seems like a relatively tidy person, but only because he used to be more of a mess as a kid. and not even like stuff everywhere, food left out, dirty laundry everywhere, etc. it’s more like things getting put in the wrong place, leaving something out to be noticed later but growing around its presence instead, and a big one for him would be buying food and then forgetting it’s in the fridge because he can’t see it and then his poor batch of apples have gone rotten.

when he’s especially stressed, it leads to piles of stuff stacking up, which, of course, makes him even more stressed and suddenly it’s “oh no I need to find this important paperwork but I have 7 different stacks it could be in!” and now there’s paper everywhere as he tries to search for it and he’s near tears about it.

in the end, I could see rin buying him sticky tabs and label makers and folders and shelves to keep everything organized. sometimes things still get misplaced, but rin would take it upon himself to just casually pick up something out of place and go “yo, makoto, where does this live?” and makoto always finds the right spot for it. his favorite thing is the little blank magnets rin bought for them to doodle their produce on to indicate when something’s in the fridge so they use it before it goes bad.

and for my second pairing let’s dooooo hmmm momotori!!

now, hear me out, I know people would want to say that chaotic momo would be the one who’s the mess, and while he’s not necessarily neat and tidy, ai is the one who’s a total mess. similar to when we had it confirmed that rin is very neat, it was confirmed that ai is not a neat person. he tries to be! but as the week goes on, more and more stuff stacks up. the weekends are his time to clean up, but it gets awful before then. he also definitely tries to justify it with “it’s an organized chaos!” which is more or less true, but also… not. like if he’s searching for something on his own, he can find it pretty easily and without stress. if someone else asks for something specific from his tower of shit? the room will be a mess before he finds what they’re asking for, and he’ll be an apologetic nervous wreck about it the whole time. he definitely needs someone to kick him into gear in order to get things cleaned up, and for him to stay on top of it. and he definitely needs someone to say to him “no I promise you can throw this instruction pamphlet out, we don’t even have this device anymore.”

sadly I do not think momo is entirely that person, but! momo makes cleaning fun! he might gripe about it if he’s asked to do it, but when he’s the one suggesting it, he ends up going on a tear and makes the whole place spotless. he’s probably messier by way of like. food. not to any gross levels, but he’s left out a few too many dirty plates before and got way too excited about the cockroaches that ai was trying to scold him for. he’s also definitely neat about his interests, like stag beetles and other insects!! any jars and terrariums he has are super well kept and don’t have any buildup of grime, and all their food and supplies are super organized so he can treat them with the best care possible! that especially makes ai happy, because while he doesn’t dislike pyunski, he definitely does not want loose critters climbing all over the place.

3. Who fixes the vehicle after a breakdown?

makorin:

this is kind of a tricky one! because I can totally see makoto taking initiative and working it out, but also, god bless him, he’s kind of a moron. like, he could fix it, but it would take him 10x longer than rin bc he’s looking at the manual 17 times and can’t tell what’s what and keeps second guessing himself and getting scared because “what if I make it worse! what if I make the car explode” and rin sighs and says “you’re not gonna make it explode, makoto.” I think rin being basically on his own in australia at a young age made it easy for him to take charge and fend for himself, so he knows how to wing it and figure things out as he goes along.

honestly, I’m very tickled by the idea of makoto being unable to do the easy stuff like change a tire or refilling the wiper fluid etc. like it’s meant to be easy so he psychs himself out about it! however, if it’s something trickier than that, as soon as he gets over the immediate panic of the car breaking down, he can sit there and work out some fairly complex stuff, at least enough to get it going until they get to a mechanic. rin, on the other hand, I think handles the simple stuff like a pro. changes tires super fast, changes the oil frequently, is always ready to jumpstart a battery, but if it’s even slightly more complicated than your average mishap, he gets that deep furrow between his eyebrows and starts grumbling as he reads the manual and curses and gets all pissed off and frustrated. that’s when makoto’s “I need to take care of you” instincts kick in and his nerves completely dissipate as he helps rin through it step by step, leaving rin gaping at him like “he can’t even change a tire how did he figure this out.”

and let’s just do momotori again bc they’re cute!!!

I honestly think that, on their own, the both of them would be hopeless. ai is too much of a worrywart and momo would get distracted and be like “wait what’s this!?” and ai has to slap his hands away like “no don’t touch it we’ll never figure out how to put the pieces back together!!” like, maybe momo would try to brute force things, and think he totally fixed it, but in a way that’s like “you got the right answer but the process was completely wrong” so they still have to take it in to the mechanic to do it properly or else it’s going to be even worse later. ai would probably be fine for simple things, but he even struggles with changing a tire, so he usually just calls for a tow lol.

in the end, if they do like a cross-country road trip (by momo’s insistence) and if they broke down, I could see momo being stubborn and insistent on figuring it out on his own, like a fun crazy puzzle, and ai humors him while the tow company is on speed dial on his phone, and they end up stuck on the side of the road for hours but at this point ai is in too deep and he has to let momo see this through to the end, because he thinks he might actually do it! and he does! and momo scoops ai up and swings him around and they yell and cheer and get funny looks from the few other drivers that whizz by but ai is proud of momo and neither of them care about the looks!!

[golden-ebony]

Man Eater (1) 𓆩♡𓆪

♡ Series Masterlist ♡

♡ Pairing: Logan Howlett/Fem!Vigilante!Reader

♡ Word Count: 4.4k

♡ Rating: Mature (but any additional parts may be explicit)

♡ Warning/Tags: suggestions of child/adult abuse (no detail), mentions of violence (little detail), mutant/vigilante reader, suggestive language, Logan being a lil flirty menace (i love it)

♡ Summary: Leaving your past behind is never easy; teasing Logan makes it tolerable

♡ Note: reader has the same power as Diego from Umbrella Academy which I just summarized as projectile manipulation. also! this is a plotline i've fiddled with for years across different marvel characters and i finally found a way to make it work! i'd expect more parts because it'd looovvvve to tease Logan

Logan stood out of apartment 404 of a modern apartment building. Given the fact that Charles told him to come here to retrieve what he had described as a vigilante who could use some guidance. Yet, he was surprised to see such a dangerous person living in such a swanky place. It was none of his business, he thought.

He pounded on the door. No one answered. He groaned, pounding the door again, “Hey! Anyone home?” He heard the slightest of footsteps before hearing a voice.

“I’d be careful about pounding on a stranger's door,” you called back in a short tone. A woman, Logan thought.

“Oh, why’s that?” Logan scoffed, folding his arms over his chest.

You cocked your shotgun loudly enough for Logan to hear. You aimed it toward the door, “You never know where you might find trouble.”

Logan lowly chuckled to himself. He went to open the door; to his surprise, it was unlocked. He slowly pushed it open. There stood you, a double-barrel shotgun aimed toward Logan’s head. “Trouble, yeah?”

He glanced at you, not intimidated by the shotgun as he didn’t even attempt to move from the line of fire. You didn’t back down, still aiming the gun at his head, “Not scared of a little lead between your eyes?”

Logan closed the door, assuming you didn’t want your fancy neighbors seeing you about to gun down a man. Couldn’t bear to splatter his brains onto the community hallway. “Lead? Nah, I’ve dealt with a lot worse.” he smirked, casually leaning against the door.

Your eyes narrowed in his direction; no one came to your door. Ever. You took a deep breath, tilting your head in curiosity with the man in front of you. It was never your intention to know him, but you did. You slightly lowered the gun, “You're like me.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Depends. What’cha mean by that?”

“I mean what I mean.”

He sighed, his breath dripping with annoyance, “Kid, I don’t do riddles. Spit it out before you piss me off.”

“You, Logan, are a mutant,” you spat while completely lowering your gun further. You knew you didn’t have the firepower to take him down. “The Wolverine.” Your voice was song-like as you teased him with an eye roll.

He was surprised by your blunt answer; he was even more surprised by the fact that you knew what—who he was without any additional prompts. He chuckled in mild disbelief, “What? You a telepath or something?”

You chuckled, crossing your arms over your chest, “No…but Stryker used to talk about you allll the time,” you teased, striking a deep nerve in Logan.

His fists clenched as he stood up straighter. He appeared defensive as if this was all an elaborate set up by Stryker somehow. If it wasn’t Charles that had sent him, he would have let his mind go there. Yet, it didn’t feel like Charles sending him to this apartment was a coincidence either. Still, looking at you, you looked too young to be around when Stryker was at his peak.

“You know Stryker? How old are you?” By his demanding tone, you knew Logan wasn’t messing around anymore.

You leaned against the arm of the couch, “The only thing Stryker loved more than having mutants do his bidding was perfecting his soldiers,” you bit the inside of your cheek to maintain your composure, “but you? Ohh, you were his favorite. You broke the mold and all he wanted to do was put that perfect mold back together.” You spoke with a disdain that Logan couldn’t figure if it was directed towards Stryker or him. His gut was telling him both.

“I was only sixteen when Styker found me. He called me his best gun.”

That piqued his interest, “Why’s that?”

As Logan finished his sentence, you threw a spear point knife in Logan’s direction. Before he had a chance to react, the knife banked left into a wooden board hanging on the wall. Logan approached the small board, seeing the multiple knife marks wedged into it. It was out of place compared to the pricier art work that adorned the walls. He huffed turning back to you.

“You control metal, too?” he snarked, hoping Charles didn’t send him to find the second coming of Erik.

“Projectile manipulation—knives, bullets, really anything that’s airborne,” you explained. “But that isn’t enough for Stryker…I can’t explain how he did it, but he was hellbent on making me practically immortal…kinda like you. It took him a couple of years. The trials were…” your voice drifted off as the pang of dread filled your chest. 

Logan felt for you, imagining you at sixteen under the oppressive thumb of Stryker. Your eyes wavered from his for the first time. Although Logan was probably one of the few people left in the world that he had any clue what you had been through—the things you were probably made to do—you didn't appear to want his sympathy.

“But you’re out,” Logan stated, trying to offer some semblance of perspective, “Obviously doing your own thing—things Stryker never would have approved of.”

“That’s because I killed him when I escaped.”

Your words heavily weighed on him. He had been looking for Stryker on his own for a while. He raced down every lead on his own time—pulled every thread, turned over every stone. He just assumed that Stryker was alive somewhere underground.

Though shocked, he was impressed, “So you weren’t just a lab rat, you had some fire in you, huh?”

Slowly approaching Logan, your stare was intense. “Unlike you, I had the balls to do something about Stryker instead of just leaving,” you spat.

Logan’s jaw clenched. His patience became thin as he took a step toward you as well, making you well aware of your size difference. “You don’t know me, sweetheart. I don’t have to explain myself to you, so don’t you go around acting all holier than thou.” Truthfully, it did cross Logan’s mind. He hadn’t seen Stryker in decades. But if he had ended him when he had left, how many lives would be unchanged? Looking at you now hearing the hurt in your voice, he was face-to-face with his unconfirmed yet biggest regret. “You’ve got no goddamn idea what I’ve been through!”His tone was gruff and curt.

Like a slap, you chuckled at his remarks. “Right, sixteen year old female lab rat? Gotta be a walk in the park,” you muttered under your breath. Logan’s imagination didn’t have to stretch far to figure what you had gone through, not just in the field but in the lab, too. You roughly brushed past him and pulled your knife out of the wall, securing it in the sleeve, “But you didn’t pound on my door to talk about Stryker, did you?”

Logan dug his hands into his pockets as you walked back into his view, “I came to talk about what you did—what you do. Your little ‘heroics’ as a vigilante.”

You hummed, “And?”

“They’ve been noticed.” He took out a flask before taking a swig of it. He glanced back to you. “I’m here to assess whether you’re a threat or not.”

“And the verdict?”

His eyes narrowed, analyzing you from head to toe. You assumed he was analyzing how many weapons you had on you. He pulled out his phone, showing you an array of photos.

They were photos of you from various nights with different dates with a variety of men. The police called them victims. You had more…colorful language to describe these men. In some photos, your hair was brown and short, black and long and so on. 

“They aren’t dead, you know,” you feigned innocence with an insincere pout and wide eyes.

The level of violence would suggest otherwise. “No, just close.”

You hummed before taking Logan’s flask, taking a drink from it. He didn’t stop you. “Then I’m sure you know what they did to deserve this, Wolvie.” He knew the general idea, but he looked at you for an answer. You swiped through the photos. Some of them were surveillance, others were crime scene photos. “Phil Stanford: beat his wife so badly that she lost her baby in the second trimester. Jones Hill: almost drowned his girlfriend’s child just to teach her a lesson. And these guys? They passed around their intern to each other like she was a piece of meat.”

You showed Logan each crime scene photo. You remembered every single one like you got the assignment yesterday, remembered the satisfaction of leaving the hotel rooms that they paid for. Awaiting his reprimand, you took another swig before giving it back.

“Look, sweetheart, I get it,” Logan admitted. You raised your brows in surprise, but now, the reason for this visit felt clear. “The Man Eater; it’s fitting.”

“I didn’t give myself that name.”

“It sticked though.”

“Why are you really here? Did Charles send you?” Your question, again, surprised Logan. Was there anything you didn’t already know, Logan thought as he took another drink.

“You know Charles, too, huh? How long?”

You shrugged, “Like 20 something years. He’s always trying to sell me on the whole family and team shit. I never bought it; I’m better on my own. Still, Charles was always good to me when our paths crossed.”

Logan noticed your body tense when you mentioned family. He understood though. “I thought the same thing a few years ago before Charles found me. I was wrong,” Logan admitted. You could tell that it took at least a little bit out of him to admit that; vulnerability was clearly not his forte. Logan just thought you were lying to yourself.

“Charles and I had an agreement where he’d never get in my mind again. But instead, he sends a Stryker experiment, like myself, not only for him to determine if I’m a threat to what I can only assume is how the public views mutants but also to remind me that I shouldn’t be going through life alone, right?”

There wasn’t much for him to say; you had said it all. Instead, he offered you his flask. He only nodded at your statement as you took the flask. You couldn’t say that you were surprised that Charles used this specific tactic. He definitely didn’t have to get into your mind to play mind games.

You took a final swig from the container, taking the last drop of the liquor, “Did you also send you to bring me to the mansion?”

“Charles said that you may not come willingly; I told him that I’d do what I can. Even if that was just to extend the invite.”

You chuckled to yourself, “You never truly escape the grasp of Charles Xavier.” You pulled a coat off the hook near Logan. “But I guess we’re due for a reunion. I’ll go with you…peacefully even.”

Logan grunted slightly. He had no plans of forcing or fighting with you, even before he met you. Though, he was curious how you’d fare in a fight. The photos indicated you were brutal, having the ability to leave someone on the brink of death. Yet, Logan doubted that any of these men saw it coming. Getting a look at you today, he was sure the men were just excited to be in the company of a beautiful woman. Like a siren, he was sure he could be lured by you.

“Good,” he muttered, as he watched you open your apartment door, trotting out of it.

You followed Logan outside, immediately eyeing the bike he was approaching, “That bike yours?”

He nodded, looking at the bike. He had left it in a nearby parking lot. It was a black and silver Harley Davidson motorcycle and a damn expensive one. He turned to look at you, “Yeah, you ever been on a motorcycle?”

”I’ve had a few Harleys in my lifetime,” you mentioned, your hand slowly grazing over the bike and the leather of the seats. “Went to Milwaukee and got one off the line back in the 90s.”

He lifted an eyebrow, looking mildly surprised. He hadn’t expected that. He slowly walked over the bike, getting ready to mount it. He looked back at you with a smirk, “So, you’re a Harley girl?”

You mounted the back, testing out the suspension, “Show me any bike and I’ll show a Harley that does it better.”

He laughed as he watched you get comfortable on his bike, “You think Harley’s better than a Triumph? Hell, you think Harley’s are better than a Ducati?” He mounted the bike and pulled out his key.

“Nothing’s beating American-made, baby,” you shrugged with a smile. You could tell how amused Logan as he shook his head “That’s why I got one in the garage and two in storage. A Street 750, LiveWire, and a Fat Boy.”

He slowly looked over his shoulder again to look at you, obviously impressed. You had good taste. “And you can handle all that, princess?”

“You’d be surprised what I can handle, Wolvie,” you lowly spoke, maintaining eye contact until he went to turn the engine. 

“Then you know the drill.” The engine added a layer of low rumble to his voice. “Hold on, sweetheart.”

You did as you were told, wrapping your arms around his brown leather jacket to connect around his waist. With it being cold out, you almost audibly sighed when you felt the warmth radiating off of him. It was combined with the slight scent of mahogany, pine, and smoke.

Logan kicked the stand up before speeding off. You held on a little tighter as he sped up and weaved through traffic. Logan felt pleased with himself as he felt you gripping him tighter. He weaved through traffic, unconcerned with the angry car drivers he was surely pissing off. You couldn’t sit there and say you hadn’t done the same, but Logan had no reason to be in this much of a rush. You believed that he just liked being an asshole.

Once out of the city, the roads to the mansion began looking familiar. More into the countryside, traffic lessened and Logan’s speeds picked up. As you approached, you could begin to feel the raindrops begin to fall from the sky. You looked up to see the clouds threatening to release a storm. Luckily, Logan was quick to pull into the garage of the mansion before it began to downpour. Logan pulled up to the garage, parking the bike and killing the engine. 

“You ride like an asshole,” you spat as you dismounted off the bike. 

Logan was amused with you snapping at him, “And if I waited in traffic, we would’ve got caught in that rain and it would've drench that little white tee of yours.” He let down the kickstand. A smirk formed across Logan’s lips as he turned back to see you still standing by the bike. His eyes clearly raked your body, “Actually, maybe I should’ve waited.”

You scoffed as you watched him dismound. “I’m assuming Charles is still in the room at the end of the hall on the top floor to the left?” You opted to just change the subject.

“You know this place well, don’t you?” Logan asked as he walked you out of the garage to the inside of  the mansion. 

It was exactly how you remembered it, “Well enough. I met Charles back when he wanted to make this place a school. Make it a safe haven for children like us, he’d say.” You thought it was fun pipe-dream at the time, believing there couldn’t be a safe space for mutants. He was obviously more optimistic than you ever were. “Some things have changed here, but it’s practically timeless.

Logan led you up the stairs, “So, you keep coming back, but you never stay.” 

“Like I said, I’m better alone.”

“Sure you are,” he muttered under his breath. You could still pick up on the sass in his voice. You shot him a glare. “You’re better alone, yet you jump at the chance to see the man who has been pestering you for years? You like him checking up on you? Showing you he cares?”

You didn’t immediately respond as you two walked the hallways. The sound of the rain  colliding with the roof filled the space instead. There weren’t many contant people in your life. When you first met Charles, he could tell he genuinely cared. He wouldn’t keep checking in if he didn’t care. You just weren’t sure if you had the capacity to care in that same way. It felt easier not to.

“It’s complicated,” you sighed as you approached Charles’s room.

“Not that complicated,” Logan mumbled before knocking on the door and pushing it open.

Charles greeted you and Logan before the door was fully opened. You entered both annoyed and relieved to see your old friend. You hadn’t seen him in about 3 years

Logan entered behind you. He stepped quietly to avoid drawing attention to himself for the moment. Charles slowly looked up from the book he was reading and smiled softly. He looked happy to see you again.

“It’s nice to see you again, my dear. Come in, have a seat,” you offered, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk.

“I think I’ll stand,” you replied, still approaching him. “You sent one of your lackeys to come get me?” you asked as you pointed toward Logan.

Logan gave a huff of annoyance at the word lackey; it felt borderline disrespectful. Charles gave a heavy sigh, looking unbothered by your question.

“I did, but I believe I said that we’d speak again soon the last time we were together,” Charles reminded you. “I told you living alone was no way to live. The world is a dangerous place. Surely you know that, my dear. I just think it would be safer if you were here, with us, where you’re protected.”

“I don’t need protection,” you huffed.

“Not physically. You still need people—connection.” You felt like the conversation was a broken record, yet you always listened. “You have no one, my dear. No friends or loved ones—”

“Not true, we’ve been friends for over 20 years, and I’ll even consider making Logan a friend to mentally protect myself,” you cut him off, trying to humor the conversation. Charles was not amused. Logan was though.

Charles sighed. He could see that you were frustrated and being stubborn, masking it with humor. He knew you had always been a lone wolf. He had hoped that maybe time would change that, but obviously not.

“Is this truly how you want to live out your days? Alone?”

You glanced over to Logan who was also staring at you, “I already explained this to Wolvie. And thanks for sending him. I’m sure it was a meeting that Stryker would have loved seeing.”

Logan was listening to the interaction, though he was trying to keep his mouth shut. Charles could see that he was teeming with his own opinions, and decided to speak in his own defense.

“I thought Logan would be a good choice. He can deal with your stubbornness,” Charles admitted.

“You knew that I wouldn’t be able to kill him.”

Charles sighed again, knowing a part of that was true. You were more of a shoot first, ask questions later kind of girl. He wasn’t going to outright agree with your statement. He knew it would cause more conflict, but Logan spoke up, unable to stop himself.

“You didn’t even try, princess. Going soft?” he teased from the peanut gallery of the conversation.

Looking over your shoulder, you glared at him, “Fresh out of adamantium bullets; might need to invest now.”

Logan's chuckle at your response got lost in the rumble of the thunder. He was just enjoying this interaction between you and Charles. Getting a rise out of you was just a bonus.

You do protect others,” Charles interrupted. Knowing both you and Logan, he figured you two could bicker for hours if given the chance. “You can do that here.”

“I don’t think you want me running my work out of this place, right?”

“No,” he simply stated, “but our students—our future students—don’t always come from the best homes…you may not need us, but we need you, dear.” 

You hated to admit it, but that stuck with you. Your home life wasn’t good. Yet, it paled in comparison to your life with Stryker. You waited for help that never came. The number of unanswered prayers you had shot up always fell flat. Being the help for someone like you? It spoke to you.

You slightly paced, thinking while the storm outside roared, “I’m not a good team player, Charles. I’ve given it a try and it’s not my cup of tea. I appreciate the offer, but I think I oughta go home.” Near the end of your sentence, the loud rumble of the thunder made you jump.

Logan smirked slightly when he saw you jump. He took note of this, an idea forming in his mind. The storm was pretty intense outside, the rain pouring and thunder roaring. Logan spoke up, his tone slightly amused.

“You gonna run through that, princess?”

You huffed as, again, Logan had a point. You looked at the window, the wind whipping the rain in all directions. You groaned to yourself and paced back toward Charles.

“How about I stay the night and think about it?” you offered. For the first time in 20 years, you were on the fence instead of jetting home.

Charles had some gleam of hope. You were appearing to give this more consideration than you had in the past. “That’s a good idea, my dear. You can spend the night, think about it, and I’ll talk to you again in the morning. How does that sound?”

“Peachy,” your tone was short.

Charles chose not to comment on your attitude; you were here and that was a lot farther than he's ever gotten. “Very good…I expect we’ll be able to speak again in the morning. Logan, do you mind showing our guest her room for the night?”

You rolled your eyes before turning to look at the gruff man standing against the wall near the door. Logan chuckled slightly as you turned to look at him. He appreciated how cute you looked when you were upset. 

He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and walked over to you, that signature smirk on his face. “Well, come on, princess. I’ll show you to your room.”

You rolled your eyes as you allowed Logan to exit the room first. Logan led you down the hallway, passing rooms where students were staying. Some were roaming the hallways as well. There were a lot of them, all different ages and different powers, all just…happy. Logan glanced back at you, noticing how jarring the amount kids must be to you.

“Not used to being around this many kids, huh?” Logan asked.

You shook your head, “You just live with all these kids?

Logan chuckled, continuing to lead you down the hallway. He shrugged, “Eh, it ain’t too bad. It was a lot at first, but they’re good kids. And Charles is right, they need someone like you. Someone who’s skilled and gives a shit.”

You could see the sense of pride and protectiveness Logan had for the children just by the way he looked at them. For the first time in years, you felt your heart flutter. You didn’t even know your heart could do that anymore. The little smiles and greetings he got secretly warmed your heart. “And the kids seem to like you.”

He chuckled again, “You sound surprised.”

“Well, you just seem to have an asshole vibe rather than a nurturing one.”

Logan shrugged, “There are enough people here that baby them. I ain’t one of them. I imagine you being the same way, sweetheart.”

You passed a group of older female students, all of them saying hi to ‘Mr. Logan’ before erupting into fits of giggles. Logan didn’t pay it any mind. Glancing over your shoulder as they walked by, you could recognize the teasing of girls with crushes.

“Ohhh, I’m sure the girls love it,” you teased.

Logan lowly laughed at your little comment, “They have their little crushes. Not only do they love it, they also think I'm a pretty damn good looking guy too, princess.”

You felt like gagging at his response, “They’ll grow out of it,” you retorted as you approached the guest room.

Logan chuckled again. He was just enjoying your banter and entertained how you responded to him each time. He was amused by your scoffing and eye rolls. He opened the door to your room, watching you closely as you walked in.

“I doubt it, princess. Most women seem to love me damn well into adulthood.

“Oh yeah? You’re just too damn irresistible? They just can’t help themselves?” The layer of sarcasm on your words was thick.

Your words were only fueling his ego and that damn smirk on his face. He leaned against the door frame, shamelessly eyeing you. “Just ask all the women I’ve been with. Not a one that didn’t want more.”

As irritating as Logan was to you in this moment, it was something to do—someone to mess with. You approached him, your eyes gazing into his, until your hands were pressed against his chest. You felt his breath hitch against your palms. You leaned up to whisper into his ear, “You keep telling yourself that, Wolvie.”

Logan let out a bit of a grumble at your words, his hands gripping the doorframe to control himself. “You think I’m lying?”

You allowed your finger to dance across his chest, noticing the prominent definition of it, “I just think you overestimate your own…abilities…”

“Sweetheart, I think I can prove damn well that I don't have to overestimate anything…" His voice was low. His eyes wandered to your heaving chest, knowing he had an effect on you, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

Your eyes narrowed, “What are you? The mansion’s welcome wagon concubine?”

“It’s a new…package offered with the welcome wagon.”

You slyly smiled. With your hands on his chest, you pushed him with enough force to push him into the hallway, despite his grip on the frame. “Good night, Logan.” 

You closed the door in Logan’s face before he could make another snide remark. Finally letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you could hear the hearty yet low laugh from Logan on the other side of the door. 

You hated how fluttered Logan made, how he made your heart race. He was shameless with his flirtations. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving in, no matter how tempting it was. He needed to be knocked down a peg. Still, it was hard to ignore the heat between your legs.

Logan was still outside in the hallway, standing right outside your door and still chuckling to himself. He could feel the heat that formed when he was pressed so close to you; he hadn’t felt like that in a long time. He smirked and shook his head. He was going to have some damn fun with you…

note: I'd love to do a part 2! tell me your thoughts♡

𓆩♡𓆪 Next part

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath Part 2 (Steddie X Plus Size You)

Warnings: Daddy Steddie (Businessman Steve/ Rockstar Eddie) & Plus Size Fem Sub Y/N, SMUT (just pure smut; me working on this may be why I'm so subby right now lol), light smacking, slight spit play( if you squint), spanking, LOTS of dirty talk.

SLIGHT ANGST, like very slight, mentions of insecurities when it comes to the reader and her now knowing who they are. Brief mentions of an ex (that I can use for angst fodder later because I'm me)

More than anything they are feeling each other out and setting up some boundaries.

Word Count: 4835

Part 1

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your friend asks as she lightly touches your shoulder before becoming distracted herself. “Maggie! I swear to God you kids are going to get me to retire early.”

“Promise?”, one of the kids teases.

Blinking, you pull yourself back into the moment, remembering the anonymity everyone requested including you.

“Ok, guys, come on. I think we bothered the people up here enough. There’s a reason they make so much money and it’s because they don’t deal with kids like you.”, you joke as you usher them to follow the guide.

It takes all of your energy not to glance their way again but you can feel their eyes trail after you as you disappear with the class. 

After dropping off the kids on campus and making sure everyone gets home safe, you head back to your apartment. As soon as the door shuts you lean against the wood, sliding down to the floor as you cry. 

You enjoyed being with Mogul and Rockstar the other night but now you know who they were. Were they going to leave now that you did? They wanted their identities to be private but never said for how long. After what happened, you were willing to wait but now… now what happens?

You hadn’t even began to fully process that they were millionaire womanizer Steve Harrington and famous well known party bad boy rockstar Eddie Munson. Insecurities had already begun to seep into your brain and it killed you. 

Your phone vibrated causing you to roll your eyes and glance at the notification that danced across your screen. 

(5:15pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!

(5:16pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude declined your invitation for a video chat. 

(5:17pm) Accept the invitation.

(5:17pm) Please.

(5:18pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!

“Yes, Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson, how can I help you?”, you answer in a short, annoyed tone. 

“You can let us see your face for starters. If I wanted to look at the wall I can turn around.”

“Of your penthouse I bet.”

“We’re still in my office. We wanted to reach out earlier but we thought you’d still be on your field trip or at the school.”

“We wanted to give you time to get home so we could talk properly. Are you crying? Why are you crying?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Look, you don’t have to pander to me, ok? I know now this whole anonymity thing is ruined and you’d rather be with someone more suited to your lifestyle.”

“Define ‘our lifestyle’.”

“For you, Mr. Harrington, I imagine some blond girl with big tits who comes from money and can squeeze her itty-bitty body into the most expensive dress your money can buy. For bad boy Mr. Munson, I see you with more or less the same but she’s cool like Janis Joplin.”

“I do like Janis.”

“So…big tits, money, and blond. Is there a height requirement?”

Your hand covers your mouth as you breathily laugh at their joke.

“No, no height requirement but according to princess here there is a weight limit. I guess because rich men like us are super vain we only care about a woman’s appearance and not her personality.”

“Is that right, honey? Or is the curvy baby with attitude a bit self-conscious?”

“THIS is why we wanted anonymity. We aren’t what you read in the papers, sweetheart. I’d figure the other night would have gone in the category of proving that. If we only cared about what you claim we never would have come down to the hotel.”

After a long exhale, you tilt your phone to allow them to see your face. 

“I think you also forget, honey, we have seen you. Yeah, you were wearing that mask but we knew about your body, your hair, and your tits. We’ve had our hands on them, remember?”

“You just caught us off guard today because… now we regret making you wear that sleep mask thing. Your entire face is so fucking beautiful. I wonder if your real name is equally so.”

Leaning your head on your knees, you take in their demeanors on the other end of your screen. They did still seem to be in his office but they were both sitting on a couch within. Steve was still wearing his sleek suit and Eddie in a black shirt with jeans but their eyes were no longer reflecting surprise as they had earlier that day. Right now, they seemed to be displaying genuine concern. 

“My name is Y/N.”

Both men softly grinned making you do the same. 

“Beautiful… would, um, would you be willing to meet us in a couple of hours at that hotel? We’d like to talk to you some more. Maybe figure some things out when it comes to us three.”

“We’d invite you to our place but we feel like it might make you more comfortable for us to meet somewhere where there’s common ground…so speak.”

“You two live together?”

“Oh good. We can still keep some secrets!”, Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, no point for me to get my own place when I’m on tour a lot and Stevie here travels for work.”

“Ok.”, you nod as you rise to your feet. “I’ll, um, see you both in a couple of hours.”

##################

Nerves float through you belly as you stand outside the hotel door, exhaling as you prepare for what may be on the other side. To your surprise both men are already there, Steve pacing by the window as he scrolls through his phone while Eddie lays on his back on top of the bed. 

As soon as the door closes, they come to attention, pausing as their eyes rake over your body. When you were here last time you had thrown on clothes not caring how you were dressed after your ordeal and today you weren’t expecting to see your two admirers so you were in your jeans and school t-shirt with a messy bun and sneakers. 

This time you wanted to show off with your off-shoulder butterfly sleeve green blouse and black skirt that accentuated your curves. The black heels helped fuel any confidence you were lacking and your hair flowed down around you giving you that extra layer of armor as well as hiding that still prominent bruise you had lingering on your skin. 

“Jesus Christ.”, Eddie breathed before clearing his throat and glancing towards Steve. “You know, seeing her now, Harrington, she doesn’t hit that height requirement we talked about.”

His friend rolled his eyes as you giggled. 

“This is so surreal.”

“What is?”, Steve asked.

“I just…I just read about you the other day. About how you just made a big financial move that made you 400 million dollars. And you…I’ve been listening to your voice for so long. I have your songs on my phone.”

“Yeah? And is that bad?”

“Ah, no, Munson. It’s those insecurities again which by the way I find totally amusing for a girl filled with so much sass.”, the pretty boy grins. “If I may ask, what are the other Daddies like? Why aren’t you like this with them?”

You scoff as you saunter to a nearby chair, place your purse down, and sit crossing your legs. Both men try to control their eyes from scanning along your limbs but Steve in particular struggles to focus on your face as his gaze constantly shifts to your heels.

“A lot of men on there have no idea what they are doing and the men that I have met up with are either trust fund babies or CEOs. They aren’t famous or really worked hard for anything. Personally, I think that’s why they struggle being dominate. They don’t know how to fight or work hard. They barely even know what they want let alone how to take care of me.”

“Goddamn, sweetheart, you are sexy.”, Eddie sighs almost excitedly. “You have no reason to be insecure at all, Y/N. I mean we get it. Like I said, this is part of the reason we wanted the anonymity. We want you to like us for us not our names or status.”

“Is that what happened with your last Baby?”

They glance towards each other again before answering. 

“No.”

“No…”

“No.”, Steve says again with more conviction. “No, that’s not what happened.”

“That’s all I get?”

“You get what we give you.”

Your breathing stutters a bit at the metalhead’s words as your pussy clenches at his casual yet confident tone. 

“Y/N, honey, can you do me a favor and uncross your legs?”  You do as he asks going the extra mile of opening them so they have a good view at your silk black panties underneath. “You have no idea how bad I want to throw those gorgeous high heeled legs over my shoulders and just fucking devour your little pussy till your shaking.”

A small moan escapes your lips but when you try to rub your thighs together for relief Eddie tuts loudly across from you. 

“Ah ah, baby. Keep your legs open till we’re done talking and you!”, he chuckles as he gestures towards his friend. “Stay focused.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“When it comes to sex, princess, is there anything we should avoid? Any hard no’s or anything like that?”

“Nothing…too rough. I’m not into masochistic stuff like canes and flogs but you can hit me or spank me. You’ll probably be doing that a lot.”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby girl. We can handle the brat.”, Steve grins as he winks, taking off his suit jacket and tie, tossing them on the other chair beside him. 

“What about you two?”

That gives them pause before they smirk and the mogul continues rolling up his sleeves. 

“Would you believe you’re the first woman to ask us that?”, Eddie ask as he shakes his head. “No, pretty girl. As long as you’re vocal and tell us when or if you’re uncomfortable, we’re happy. That being said, do you have a safe word you prefer?”

“I’m alright with ‘red’, Daddy.”

Steve walks to your side and extends his hand out for you to take so he can guide you to the edge of the bed beside Eddie before descending to his knees. The long-haired boy brushes some of your hair back and his ringed fingers lightly trace your bruise.

“How does this feel? Still hurt?”

“Yes, sir, but not as much as before.”

“Fucking asshole putting his hands on our baby girl.”, he growled low as his lips kiss your skin. 

“That’s another thing, Y/N, because apparently we weren’t clear last time. You are ours. You belong to us and in turn we take care of you.”

“Are we still…still…keeping this a secret?”, you inquire trying to focus as Eddie’s kisses trailed to your neck while Steve’s mouth lingered on your thigh. 

“Is that alright? Till we get more comfortable with each other and the dynamic.”

“Y-Yes, Daddy. Please.”

“Please what, baby? What do you want?”, the rockstar breathes in your ear.

“I want Daddy to eat my pussy.”

You watch as Steve’s head disappears into your skirt making you groan when his nose presses against your panty covered core and you feel him inhale. 

“Fuck, she smells so fucking good.” His wide tongue flattens against the fabric and Eddie grins as your mouth falls open. “Jesus, Ed, and she tastes so sweet. Let’s get these off, honey.”

Nodding aggressively, you helped him pull down your panties and he tossed them towards his jacket. He licked a strip between your folds, wrapping his mouth around your clit, and repeating the process as his eyes watched your face. 

“Oh fuck, Daddy.”

Eddie’s hand cups your cheek as he brings your lips to his, open mouth kissing you as his own tongue caresses yours. Your body abruptly jostles as Steve bunches your skirt around your waist and throws your legs over his shoulders before pressing his face into your cunt as his tongue vigorously flicked your bundle of nerves.

Your fingers threaded through his hair as you fell back against the mattress and grinded your hips. His large palms glide up your stomach as the other man lifts off your shirt and throws it to the floor. You moan, gripping the mogul’s wrist as his digits pinch and roll your nipple between them. 

“Oh my God, yes, Daddy! I’m gonna cum!

Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave as Steve shakes his head from side to side helping you ride out your high. Refusing to slow down by any means, the man’s arms circle your hips, holding them down as he continues to run his tongue between you folds as he builds you back up. 

Feeling a warmth beside you, you shift your gaze to see a now naked Eddie on his knees stroking himself by your face.

“Do you want Daddy’s cock, pretty girl?” When you don’t respond, his palm lightly smacks your cheek, his eyes scanning yours for discomfort when they finally meet. “I asked you something.”

“M’sorry. Da-Daddy’s mouth feels sooooo good.”

“Maybe I should have him stop so you can pay attention.”

“NO! No, please. I’ll listen! I’ll listen. I’ll listen.” When he repeated his question, you nodded as your free hand started to reach for him. 

“No, baby. Just keep your hands on Steve. Fun fact, he kind of likes when you pull his hair while he’s making you feel good.”, Eddie grins as his palm pets your head. “Just keep your throat open for me, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

A guttural moan left the rockstars lips when his cock slid through your parted ones. His girth overwhelmed you instantly but you loved the way he tasted as every vein dragged along your tongue. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s it. God damn Steve, her mouth feels amazing.”

As the metalhead began subtly thrusting his hips, you did what he suggested, gripping the other man’s hair tightly in your fingers as you tried not to gag.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.”, Eddie panted as he pulled himself back and you collected some air. “It’s ok to gag and drool, baby. We don’t mind it messy, trust me, and the thought of this pretty face choking on my cock just…fuck. Oh, wait. You’re going to cum again aren’t you?”, he says in an almost mocking tone that has your pussy clenching. 

Almost abruptly, Steve climbs up your body and snake one of his hands behind your neck, lifting you just enough for your forehead to lean against his. Pushing his ring and middle finger into your core, the sound of your slick filled the room as he thrust them into you at a brutal pace. 

“Cum again, baby. Come on. Soak Daddy’s fingers.”, he chanted under his breath as one of your arms wrapped around his neck. “I gotchu, Y/N. Daddy’s right here. Cum, baby girl. Keep your eyes open and on me.”

You screamed as the coil snapped, panting as your hair was yanked back.

“Keep your eyes open, little girl!”

His large digits continue to pump into you, slowing their rhythm as you gradually come down from your high with both men murmuring praises as they hovered above you. 

Through heavy lidded eyes you see them smirk at each other as Eddie pats his shoulder as if to say thank you before he maneuvers around on the bed, flipping you onto your stomach, and pushing you up on all fours. 

Steve lays on his back and hastily adjusts you till your in-between his legs. With a hungry gaze, you watch as he unbuckles his belt and pushes down his pants just enough to free his cock, stroking it in front of you as you wait. 

“Go head, Y/N.”, Eddie permits making you smile as you tongue darts out to lick the precum off his tip. “Atta girl. Remember, it’s ok to be messy.”

“Just tap me twice if you need a minute, honey.”

“Ok, Daddy. Oh-Oh fuck.”

While you two were talking, the rockstar had placed himself behind you, collecting your arousal with his length before guiding himself into your entrance. You whimper at his size as your nails claw under Steve’s button up shirt down his abs. 

“Fuck me, baby. I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying—shit—I’m trying to go slow but your pussy is just pulling me in…squeezing Daddy so tight.”

The man underneath you bit his lip as your face scrunched in pleasure. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Such a good girl taking him so well.” Your hand wrapped around him as your mouth enveloped his cock, taking him as far down as you could. “Fuck, good-good girl.”

Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, Eddie waited, allowing you to get accustomed to him while you focused on his friend. Taking his recommendation, you lowered yourself as far down as you could, gagging around Steve’s massive size, and coming off him quickly leaving trail of spit that lingered on your chin. 

“There you go. God, Y/N, that felt amazing. Do you want Daddy to take control?”

“Please… I trust you.”

Almost too gently, he lifted your hair into a ponytail, caressing your lips with his thumb as they fell open while Eddie began thrusting into you. When his cock found its way into your mouth again, however, he was anything but.

His mushroom tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly as he guided your head lower and lower onto his lap.

“You’re doing so good, honey. Fuck! K-Keep your tongue flat. That’s it, baby. Just like that. Mmm get Daddy nice and wet. Yeah? Is Eddie fucking you nice and deep?”

Tears consistently fell at the euphoria you were feeling as Eddie’s cock hit all the right places inside of you and then some while Steve’s words and actions were making you clench the rockstar to an almost a painful degree. 

“Fuck, man!”, he blissfully shouted as he spanked your behind and slowed his pace as he watched his cock disappear inside you. “She fucking loves sucking your dick. Every time she gags, her cunt wraps tighter around me.”

The pretty boy grins as he pets your head and dries some of your tears. 

“You like sucking my cock, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy, I love it.

“Can Daddy fuck your tight your little throat till you both cum?”

“Yes, Daddy, please!”

Eddie stills long enough for his friend to rise to his knees and slide himself back into your mouth, matching his pace as they both thrust into you. Your orgasm takes you by surprise as you roughly tap on Steve’s body and he immediately pulls back as your upper body collapses on the mattress. The rockstar grunts as reaches over to grab your hair, bringing you flush against his chest as he chases his release. His arms circle around to your tummy and you place your own on top of his as he slams his seed inside of you. 

“Thank you.”, you whisper as you pant against his cheek and in response he tilts his head to kiss your lips. 

“Come here, baby girl.”, Steve coos, his head ticking to the side when you shake yours.

“I don’t want to ruin your suit, Daddy.”

Smiling softly, he takes you in his arms and you can’t help but inhale his scent as you nuzzle your face into his neck. After placing you on the pillows, he tugs his shirt over his head and removes the pants the rest of the way. 

“I don’t care about my clothes, honey. All that matters to me is that you’re comfortable and taken care of. Plus, it’s kind of sexy to me to have your gorgeous, naked, sweat covered body against my suit.”

Positioning himself between your legs, he brings one over his shoulder and lets out a long, pleasure filled sigh as he guides his cock into your somewhat overstimulated and dripping pussy. 

“God…fuck me.”

At this angle, it felt like he was splitting you in half but in the best possible way.

“Mmph, fuck, Daddy. You’re so big.”

“I know, Y/N. I know but you can take it. You’re doing so well already.” Steve’s lips kiss your ankle just below your high heel as he gradually began finding his rhythm. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

When you didn’t do what he told you to, you felt him lean over you as he pressed his palms into the mattress to steady himself. 

“Y/N, stop making us repeat ourselves. Now, open your eyes.”

“I-I’m sorry, Daddy. You feel—mmm—so good. I can’t—”

“Yes you can, little girl. Don’t let our kindness fool you. We can be mean when we need to be and have no problem punishing bad girls.”

Your eyes open to meet his dominate ones and just as Eddie had he scans your face for any signs of discomfort. When he found none, he rested his forehead on your own.

“This is the first time we’re really getting to see them.” Steve rolls his waist and you mewl as he roughly hits that sensitive spot inside you. “Right there? Ok, baby.”

His jaw goes slack as he pounds into you, slamming into you g-spot over and over again turning you into a moaning mess that drives him crazy. Pushing back on to his knees, you watch as a glob of spit falls from his mouth before he utilizes his thumb to rub it into your clit.

“FUCK! I’m gonna cum!”

The bed shakes underneath you as skin smacking skin loudly echoes through the room. The coil in your belly snaps for the final time that night and Steve’s lips crash to yours to capture every moan he can. After a few moments, his head dips to your side and his groans fill your ear as he empties himself inside you. 

You wince as the man tries to carefully pull out, murmuring apologies as he kisses your face. 

“Here, sweetheart, drink this.”, Eddie instructs in a gentle tone as he hands you a glass of water that you promptly chug back. “I’m going to go figure out how to turn the rocket ship they a call a tub into a bath so we can get you all clean.”

You giggle at his joke as Steve over exaggeratedly sighs as he presses his face into the pillow beside yours. 

“He’s just trying to impress you by seeming more ‘down to earth’. Our bathrooms at home are more or less the same.”

“I’m sure they are better than mine. It’s a 30 sq ft cube and I shower with the door open so I don’t feel like I’m actually IN the movie Cube.”

His eyes scan you over as you laugh at your circumstance.

“I hope this doesn’t come off as rude so if it is please tell me but…you don’t make enough with the website to get a better apartment?”

“I don’t think it’s rude. Um, no. I don’t deal with too many Daddies. I mean I deal with them but not enough to actually get anything going or keep them around long term. Either they can’t handle me or I can’t tolerate them.”

“Girl who knows what she wants?”

“Girl who’s been through enough and is tired of wasting her time.”

He nods as Eddie saunters back into the bedroom to tell you the bath is ready but as he casually comes around to pick you up, you stop him. 

“It’s ok. You don’t need to…”

As you start to climb out of bed, he places his palm on your chest and pushes you back down.

“I don’t need to what?”

“You don’t need to try and lift me.”

“Good to know.”, he responds sarcastically as he effortlessly lifts you in his arms. “Thankfully I don’t need to try. I already know what I can and can’t do.”

After removing your skirt and heels and placing you in the water, the metalhead climbs in behind you and begins cleaning your body as Steve, now donning boxers, places himself on the edge.

“Am I allowed to ask questions?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but we decide whether or not to answer.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“Did you have a particular question in mind, honey or…?”

“Just some general things.”, you shrug. “Like I know you make a lot of money but I don’t actually understand what you do.”

“Um, the short answer would be I’m an investor, I guess. My father owned and ran an advertising firm that I took over. Then I utilized those funds to buy and resell properties. That business move you mentioned? I bought a building in Las Vegas and spruced it up. Since it was right on the strip it sold for a high dollar value.”

“Did that go right over your head?”, Eddie asked in jest.

“A bit.”, you smile shyly. 

“Those kids you brought…what do you teach that would bring them to my office?”

“Oh, that wasn’t my class. I was helping my friend with her field trip because another teacher called in sick. She teaches economics; I teach English.”

Both men make a subtle ah noise as they chuckle. 

“Almost all of students know you.”, you smile as you shift your focus to the rockstar. “They say you need to post more on social media.”

“Yeah, I have no idea how any of that works. I just post what they tell me and Gareth runs our band one. I’m an old man, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god. No, you aren’t.”, you laugh as you keen into his chest. 

You don’t see it but both men exchange another look before Eddie wraps his arms over your own and holds you tightly against him as he kisses your shoulder. 

“I’m, um, assuming that doesn’t bother you…that we are older?”

“Most sugar daddies are, honey.”

“That’s not what I asked.”, Steve scolds as he reaches out to lightly grip your chin.

“No, it doesn’t bother me.” Nodding at your answer, he releases you to take hold of your hand and help you to your feet to step onto the bathmat allowing the metalhead to do the same so he can dry you. “Do it bother you?”

“No, baby girl, it doesn’t.”

“Now if any younger guys are out here hitting on you—“ Eddie smiles when your loud belly laugh cuts him off. 

“Trust me, no one is hitting on me. I’m not saying that in like an insecure way. I’m just, usually my sarcasm gets in the way.”

After leading you back into the bedroom, you’re surprised when Steve grabs his shirt and puts it on you, falling to his knees as he closes the buttons.

“This material feels nice.” A sexy smirk paints his face as you watch his fingers move. “Smells like you.”

As soon as he completes his task, his face presses into your stomach as his hands tenderly trail up one of your legs. 

“I smell cigarettes to. Almost like my best friend insists on smoking around me.”

“Oh, sure, because you don’t smoke with me sometimes.”, Eddie teases as you both smile. “I like that you smell like us both though. Let’s people know you belong to someone already.”

Taking a hold of your bicep, he guides you under the covers and you immediately spoon your body into his as he circles his arm around you again.

“Should I…remove my profile from the site?”, you ask sleepily as Steve lays in front of you and brushes some of your hair away from your face.

“We would appreciate that. Tomorrow we can give you our number so we can talk directly on the phone and get some more information so we can send you money when you need it. I would also like to work on getting you a better place to stay. I don’t like you being in a small place where—”

“Steven.”, Eddie chuckles as he interrupts his friend. “Look at her.”

As his eyes glanced over you, he realized you had fallen asleep, your steady breathing and calm face making them swoon.

“Am I asking for too much? I hate the idea of her living somewhere she isn’t comfortable.”, the mogul inquires as he slides further under the covers and caresses your skin while the rockstar props up on his elbow. 

“She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman to do anything that would make her uncomfortable.”, he grins. “But no, I don’t think you’re going overboard.”

“You know how we are. That’s why women always took advantage of us.”

“That’s why we’re taking things a bit slower this time so we don’t have another incident like last time.”

Steve growled under his breath at the thought.

“I don’t think Y/N would be as vindictive as our ex was. Yeah she’s got a mouth but she seems up front and honest. I like that.”

“Me to.”

“I hope we aren’t wrong about this one, Ed.”

############

@aol19 @paradisepoisons @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

@lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer

@aactuaaltraash

[byuntrash101]

facetime

switch!reader x switch!mingi

smut | mdni

1.1k

mingi has a small favor to ask you real quick

nsfw tags under the cut

phone sex, established relationship, slightly perv!mingi, sub leaning mingi i guess?, mingi is obsessed with your boobs (as he should be), slight body worship (if u squint), masturbation (m), very very mild degradation (mingi is called a perv), orgasm (m)

a/n: i wrote this on a whim after i saw a video of mingi in a fancall event and he was flirting without shame with op and i was going insane for him again so yeah.... here we go ♡

ateez masterlist | navigation

You were surprised when you received a facetime call from Mingi, normally he doesn’t call you when he’s at work. You were just lounging on the couch of your shared apartment. Catching up on the newest netflix show before you get inevitably spoiled on tiktok. Comfortably laying on a legion of fluffy pillows and wearing your boyfriend’s favorite oversized graphic t-shirt.

You sat back straight and pushed some of the cushions aside. Before swiping the green icon and answering his call.

“Hi babe!” you greeted him, happy to see his face emerge from the dark screen. “What’s up?”

“Hey baby, can you show me your tits, like real quick?”

…

“What?” is the first thing that comes to your mind. Your tone is a lot closer to confusion than indignation despite the rather straightforward nature of the request. 

Upon closer examination, your boyfriend appears to be a little pink at the cheeks and also kind of agitated. But that’s not completely abnormal, he was rehearsing and probably dancing his heart out so appearing a little sweaty and disheveled wasn’t an alarming sight. Until you noticed the camera seemed to be rather unstable too…

“Baby…” his deep voice sounded a little needier than usual. “I-I j-just” he stammered. “Well I’m practicing like crazy and I thought I’d quickly go to the bathroom and you know jerk off real quick” You cock an eyebrow, which seems to push him to justify himself. “You know? To get the edge off?” You crossed your arm over your chest, still holding the small screen in front of you. 

“Baby please I just need you so bad. I’ve been trying to cum for so long but I just can’t. And I just can’t stop now. I’ve gone too far. I need to cum.” He panted, you could tell this whole time he hadn’t stopped stroking his cock just from the way the phone in his other hand kept shaking. “Please baby help me get off” he begged, his eyebrows meeting on his forehead, sad droopy puppy eyes pleading in such a way you couldn't refuse.

“Fine” you cave in as you lift up the loose t-shirt over your breasts, holding the soft fabric at your neck. 

“Yes thank you!!” he exclaimed, deep voice laced with gratitude.

You then lowered the phone to aim the camera at your chest. You heard your boyfriend suck in a deep breath as soon as you did so.

“Ffffuck yeah” he breathed out. “That’s what I needed. Perfect fucking tits” he said, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Instantly he felt closer to his release. He gripped his aching length tighter as he practically burned into his eyes the image the screen was reflecting. Drinking in the two beautiful lumps of flesh staring back at him through the device. At this point his hand was gliding so smoothly along his cock, made so perfectly slick with his precum.

He was so close now.

You could tell that much. It was easy to guess as his short bleached hair struck to his forehead and how his jaw went lax except when he caught his lower lip between his teeth just to spit it out all swollen and red. But that probably was nothing next to his cock.

What wouldn't you have given to see the state of his dick. You could only imagine it as you guessed he was gradually picking up the pace, the camera becoming even shakier. 

“You’re close?” you asked, feeling your own arousal pool in your panties, lightly squirming on the sofa.

“Yesss. So fucking close baby” he breathed, voice coming out a little squeaky as he was trying so hard not to make to much noise, one large bead of sweat hanging under his chin. “Fuck, baby. Can I see your face too? Can I have your tits and face ?” the question sounded more like a desperate plea.

You held the phone a little further so both your chest and face would fit in the frame. And Mingi instantly squinted his eyes, trying his best not to close them from how good he felt. He wanted to keep looking at you.

“Fuck baby. You’re so pretty. So fucking perfect for me” He sighed, now focussing the rapid strokes on his cock head. He moaned again, his voice going up on octave, right before pinching his lip between his teeth again to shut himself up, so hard that he could have drawn blood but he didn’t care at this stage. He couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the agonizing pleasure of his fist tightly holding his fat, pulsing and weeping cock.

“Yeah you like that?” you asked, your own voice soaked in lust. “You’re such a perv! Jerking off in the stalls at work like a creep.” you smirked when you picked up on the micro expression of shame flashing on his face.

“Fuckkkk” he growled. “I’m so fucking close baby. So fucking close for you!” he said, applying just the right amount of pressure to his tip with his thumb.

“Yeah?” You swiped your tongue on your bottom lip. “Then cum. Cum for me now. Cum all over my tits and face baby” your ordered pressing your tits together with your available hand. 

“Fuck yeah. Cumming. C-cumming for you now” he warned in a strangled whisper as he finally reached his peak, his huge cock uncontrollably twitching in his clenched fist, delivering large ropes of cum on his hand and against the door of the stall, some large squirts even crashing on the tiled floor. 

You didn’t dare to blink, scared to miss even one split second of your boyfriend’s beautiful features contorted into divine agony. He was so perfect, you thought as you gazed at him with heart eyes through the screen and felt your soaked panties uncomfortably cling to your drenched folds. 

He gradually slowed down before coming to a stop. He chuckled lightly as he wiped his sweat forehead in his elbow, now looking at you with this ravishing smile that you came to adore.

“Thank you baby” he said, as innocent as could be. Almost making you doubt the sinful expressions of bliss you witnessed only moments ago.

“You’re welcome, baby. I expect you return the favor once you get home” you said grinning, a mischievous glint hinting away in your orbs.

Mingi poked the tip of his tongue on the corner of his lips being pulled into a smirk. 

“Of course my love”

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The Lord's Daughter

Cassian x Devlon!Reader

Synopsis: You’re Lord Devlon’s daughter, which definitely won’t cause any issues. Right? Fluff and Angst

Warnings: Devlon, misogyny :D, abuse, wing clipping, also you’re somewhat of a housewife because I read to many stories of people that end up with Cassian, Azriel or Rhys where they want to train and be strong. You can be strong and take care of a house, fuck that fighting shit. Also, I use female terminology, but you could read it as a more feminine male, FtM or even MtF if wanted.

Words: 7.6k

The High Lord was coming to the house for a meeting, and then dinner. Father stated they were to talk about the camp, what the High Lord wanted to change, to talk about the girls training. Father stated it was because ‘that bastard general of his’ has reported once again the girls aren’t training. The other lords of Windhaven have all agreed that the girls can train just after their chores.

The only issue with that is the males of camp have just been giving us more work. So where I used to have time to myself to read, or play piano, I spend most of my day now doing chores and helping the younger girls of camp.

I don’t mind it, truly, it helps them out to do what they want. Train. I just don’t have an interest, and it’s not because my Father believes a female’s place is the house, I just don’t enjoy it. I’ve spent enough time helping patch up the warriors in the infirmary to know I want nothing to do with it.

I’d rather be a ‘housewife’ likely to the High Lord’s displeasure.

It doesn’t help that the General has been pestering all the girls lately to see why none of them are training.

It doesn’t help he pestered me before about it. Just before Rhysand became the High Lord. That thought caused me to look to my father, who had been in the sitting room sipping his whiskey.

“Father, do you know how many will be attending the meeting and meal? So, I might be prepared?” I ask, and the look on his face either turned to anger because I interrupted his thought or because of who will attend.

“The bastard lord, and his two-bastard ilk will attend. Not sure about his whore cousin.” He answered and downed his glass. Yea the anger is from the guests.

I wiped my hands on the apron I wore and untied it to set to the side, “Is there anything you’d specifically want for the meal? I can head to the butcher’s tomorrow when he opens. And I believe that the Huxley’s just finished canning and harvesting some of their vegetables for the season, I can stop and see what they have.”

“Get something from a pig. Just what they need to remind them what they are. No better than anyone else. Just nicer versions of pigs.” He poured himself another glass. Three fingers full this time.

“Pig sounds good, it’s been a little while since I’ve made a pig roast. I get some beans and potatoes to mash with it if that sounds good father.” If I’m to roast an entire pig for dinner, then I’ll have to go to the butchers early. Hopefully Elias can help bring it to the spit for me.

Father just grunted in reply, I’ll have to see what good alcohol I can find on short notice to serve. Possibly a cheap wine for me in order to get through it all.

Father was to spend most of the day showing the High Lord, the General and the Shadowsinger how the troops were, and how the girls’ training were proceeding, whilst I prepped the house for dinner. Turns out a pig roast doesn’t take as long as one would think to cook.

So, I got to spend some of my morning and afternoon outside tending to it and watching the camp show what they’ve learned. What new techniques have been taught from the war, whilst some of the girls stood to the side doing simple maneuvers like breathing or stretching.

It was strangely beautiful seeing the males move how they did. Like it was a dance whilst they were paired off, a dance that turned bloody and violet sure, but a dance nonetheless.

I tried my best to ignore the eyes of the three guests but at some points it couldn’t be avoided, and I’d quickly look away and go back to peeling my potatoes. Like a game of camp and mouse, except each time I’d glance there’d be some type of questioning look in one of their eyes. The General’s.

Whilst one of the three would pop in for a visit to the camps occasionally, I was never around. I’d just hear my father’s complaints later. With the occasional slap if it was a real grueling day. They weren’t the worst punishment you’ve received from the man. By the time it gets to the point he wants to slap he’s had a few glasses full, and he doesn’t have much strength.  

Besides he wanted me to look beautiful so he could still possibly find me a husband. Being the camp lord’s daughter did have its benefits. A pick of husbands, not that I’d get to chose but, and less beatings than some of the other women. Because whilst father would have rather had sons, he only has me. And as cruel as he can be I can say he doesn’t hate me. Detest me for not having a cock, sure.

But I am still his child.

Cauldron, part of me thinks just a little he hates he clipped my wings. He’d done it properly, thankfully. Had the best healer tend to it, so I still have functions in my wings and no real pain. Many of the girls and females in camp can’t say that. I’ve tended to many of them after the fact of how mangled their fathers make them. How they can barley even function.

The High Lord has attempted to ban wing clipping, imposing harsh punishments on those who still do it. It hasn’t stopped many of the fathers from clipping in secret. Which has caused more injuries than needed. It doesn’t help many of the males of camp beat their wives and daughters.

No wonder some many of the fae hate us. No wonder the High Lord and his friends hate coming around. Maybe that’s what the meeting is about. More changes to make to the camp. I’m sure father will love that. Something I’ll have to listen to until the next demand the High Lord makes.

I’d been so busy peeling and cutting up potatoes I didn’t see the massive imposing figure next to me. Red siphons littering his body, stature casting a shadow over my body, wings just posed enough to not be aggressive but catching my attention.

“Why aren’t you training with the other girls?” It was the General, Cassian, who had walked up to question me. And I’m shocked to find him talking with me. I’m trying to remember when the last time it might’ve been, and the only time I can think of it was around the time of their Blood Rite at a bonfire.

The war came not long after that, and then once it ended, I started taking care of the house more. Learning how to be a good wife from my mother, learning from some of the healers how to care for wounds.

“I’m peeling potatoes…” It’s the most obvious thing that I’m doing. He can see the potato in my hand, the others that had been peeled, and the skins on the ground around me.

“The girls of camp are to train just everyone else. So… why aren’t you training yourself?” He asked again, as if it’s the strangest thing in the world to not want to train. To rather cook, clean and care for a home than fight and get bloody and bruised.

���Because I’m prepping for dinner. After the meeting with the High Lord.” It’s a simple answer, one anyone should be able to guess, especially the General.

“Lord Devlon has been instructed that all girls of training age, or those that wish to, train before doing chores.”

“I know the rule Lord Cassian,” He cringes lightly at the title, “My father tells the camp of the rules the High Lord has created and has been enforcing. Believe it or not, I am not of training age nor do I want to train. I am perfectly content doing what I have been.”

The General almost seemed shocked at what I said. And just as he went to add something else, someone called him back to the others. He looked at the voice, then back to me, as if he was going to ignore them. Continue to question me; but he left.

Once he left, I took the food inside, to finish cooking it. The Generals presence reminding me of that bonfire. What the night brought, what rare fun you got to have. Before many of you had responsibilities for the real world….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“If your father finds out I allowed you to go out tonight he’d have both our heads.” My mother had stated glancing hesitantly at me from over the counter.

“Well, father is going to be in meetings with some of the camp lords, and other males of camp. Hence why this party is happening tonight.” I told her, the crunch of an apple piece ending my statement from the fruit she had given me for a snack.

“You’re not going to do anything… reckless are you? Nothing to…-“

I interrupted her, “Mother I’m not going to sleep with anyone. My pureness will be intact when I leave the house and will still be present when I come back. You’ll have no issue marrying me off. Even then, you and father are still able to have children.”

My mother had walked around the counter and pulled me into her chest, kissed my head and stated, “Why would I ever try to mess up perfection?” She had always said I was the best thing she made; no other child would be able to compare.

By the time I had gotten to the party it was in full swing, liquor and ale being passed around in cups, people sneaking off to the shadows to feel or hook up.

I had just planned on seeing some of my friends, only have maybe one or two drinks, I hadn’t expected the heir to the Night Court to be there. Which meant his two shadows would be around him too, both bastard low-born males, one who fought for his place in Windhaven and slid his way to the heir’s side. The other, the one everyone says was kissed by flame and shadow, who was dropped off here by his father’s guards as a favor to whoever his mother was. Just because the Lady of Night was a family friend.

The three of them weren’t much older than I, maybe by a few years, they were nearing the age and power to compete in the Blood Rite, where many Illyrian males aim for the age of 30 to compete. The name is self-explanatory, it’s a rite of passage where lots of blood happens.

I had spotted the long-hair male, I believe his name is Cassius or along the lines, standing by the fire passing a cup of ale to another female. Brushing through the crowds, I made my way over looking at the different drink options feeling hazel eyes looking at me.

Without even looking at the person staring I ask, “Going to give a suggestion or just keep starring?”

“I mean either works for me. Which allows me to stare longer?” Cassius… Cassiel… shit what is his name…

“Hmmm… giving a suggestion allows me to sip something as you stare.” I finally turn to look at him, and realize how much taller he is. He’s standing at least a head over me, if not two heads. Maybe a head and a small head.

“Ale is always a good choice. If you’d like something harder, a whiskey mixes or rum. Something sweet, I saw someone walk by with wine earlier so that’s somewhere… Cassian by the way.” CASSIAN! That’s his name.

“Y/N, and I’m okay with ale. My mixed drinks either varies by too strong and mainly the liquor or not enough and its basically just soda.” He nods his head and takes to pouring me a cup, getting no foam in it before handing it over.

“So, Windhaven native orrrr….?” He asks, and I can’t tell if he expects to end the night in my pants or not. If he actually just wants to get to know me.

“Native, my father is one of the lords sooo. Kinda have to follow the line. Only reason I got to come tonight was the meeting.”

“Yea, that was the main reason for this soiree. Helps that the High Lord is there taking the attention off of us to do it.” My eyes widened just a little, not realizing that the Lord of the Night Court was present.

“I didn’t realize he was coming to that meeting… how do you know that, figured it’d be a bit of a secret.” I watch as he points off to the side, following his direction I see how he knows, the heir, Rhysand is against a tree. Kissing another male with a female between them.

“He’s… committed?” I don’t even know how to describe it, and whilst it wouldn’t be me… I won’t judge others. That’s wrong.

“Oh,” the sharpest grin spreads on Cassian’s face, “He’s a very committed High Lord.”

“I’m sure the Night Court will be in… loving hands?” It’s a questionable laugh, one I hope doesn’t offend him or his friend.

“He will be, he’s got plans. Hopes to make Illyria a better place. But none of that, you’re drinking with one of the next Carynthian!” He’s proud of the statement, as if knowing he’s going to win no matter what.

“Oh, you’re competing this coming spring? Are… are all three of you doing it?” It’s a simple question, one because I know my father has already complained about them signing up together. It’s somewhat nice seeing others give him a headache rather than I.

“You can bet you’re sweet ass.” My eyebrows raise as I blink at what he exclaimed, “We all plan to complete it together. We started as one, we’ll end as one.”

“That’s… sweet. To many Illyrians die during it… To much blood shed just to come out on top just to come out with bragging rights.”

Cassian shrugs as if it isn’t too much of an issue. “Everyone in this camp is out for someone’s blood. The blood rite keeps everyone… sated. It’s a way to get rid of your enemy’s or people you hate without having to deal with a punishment from Lord Dickhead. Illyria is awful anyway with how everyone gets treated, if there weren’t challenges or the blood rite, we’d never be an army. Be to busy fighting each other.”

He's right but the name ‘Lord Dickhead’ throws me off… he’s not talking about…? “Lord Dickhead?”

The biggest grin ever splits across his face, and that’s how I know 1. He’s talking about my father and 2. He doesn’t know I’m his daughter. “Lord Dickhead, Lord Devlon. He’d answer to both I think.”

It had caused me to laugh, Windhaven is a big camp so not everyone realizes that my dad is one of the lords, let alone realize I’m his daughter. We talked more that night, but Cauldron knows I can’t remember. The ale was pretty strong, and I hadn’t drunk much before. But I do remember the night ended with a sloppy kiss.

We had moved to just the outskirts of the party, and he made a comment about going to be the best warrior the camp has seen. His goal was to be a general one day. And I had made a silly little comment about me being the fair maiden and him being the amazing knight.

He told me that the knight always gets a kiss before and after saving the maiden. So, he said he earned a kiss before the Blood Rite. So, I risked it. One of the only times I ever risked my status and the ire of my father.

I pressed my lips against his, hesitantly. He cupped my cheeks in his hands, tilting his head just slightly and pressed his lips against mine a rush of heat flowing through me. My brows furrowed just as he ran his tongue along my lip and in my confusion, I followed instinct and raised my hands to cup his face.

It had been a hot, hungry rushed kiss. My first kiss, something no other male got from then on. The war came after, among a thousand other things. But it always felt like a part of my soul was missing from then on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Present~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had been so lost in my daydream I had finished the potatoes. The type of ‘blackout’ where you just rely on muscle memory and continue doing whatever you were and come back out after going “Oh I actually cooked those right and didn’t just imagine it right?”

I quickly started setting everything out on the table, laid out the glasses, with a pale of ice cubes if wanted and the slightly expensive whiskey I found set out as well.  

And just as I finished stirring the mashed-up potatoes, I heard my father lead the males in. In walked the High Lord, the Shadowsinger and Cassian. I walked into the doorway of the eating room, watching my father lead them in, the whiskey and glasses already on the table from earlier today.

My father nodded to me, seeing that everything was out for them already. He then turned to the others and nodding in my direction and three sets of eyes lay on me. Each holding different twinkles in their eyes. “I’m not sure if you all remember back from, you’re all’s youth, but this is my daughter. Y/N Devlon.”

The High Lord’s and Shadowsinger’s expressions stayed neutral, but Cassian’s eyes widened just a bit. Either from realizing that I would in fact know the rules because of me being his daughter. Or because he finally remembered who I was. 

Either way I bowed just enough to be respectful, “Hello. Dinner is ready, and I left the option of drink choices. I hope everything is to your guys’ liking.” The Shadowsinger’s gaze glanced over the table, likely trying to see if anything would be poisoned but his gaze stuck on the roasted pig sat out, glistening with juices.

As if realizing what caught the shadowsinger’s attention, the High Lord and Cassian’s attention moves to it as well. Cassian only really seemed to have an issue with it, his teeth clenched and fist slightly clenched.

The High Lord took it in stride however, “Devlon, I’m glad you remembered how much I loved a roasted pig. Did it come from the Collymore family? They still have their butcher shop don’t they?”

My father leaned over his seat, and poured himself a glass, “You are correct Rhysand, the Collymore’s still have their butcher shop, their son has helped take it over. Truly it was them to remember your love for pig. Too many of you boys I raised and sent off to remember it all.” There’s a little eye twitch in his eye at the dig. “Please sit. Let’s not let this meal go to waste.”

I helped pour glass for the males, asked if anything else was needed before being waved away by my father. Walking back into the kitchen for my own dinner, I felt eyes follow me.

My own meal was smaller, consisting of really only the sides, pork wasn’t my favorite choice of meal, especially when it came to having to look at the face of a pig while eating. I spent most of dinner trying to ignore the conversation happening one wall over.

Voices varying in differing heights as disagreements and agreements happened. Why they elected to have a meeting over a meal? I’m not to sure. Doesn’t seem like much eating is actually happening. And as the person who cooked the meal, it kind of upsets me that my work is going to waste.

I could see the little shadow join me in the kitchen as I ate. Giving me some company, granted I’m sure it’s reporting back. As soon as that thought happens, it shoots off and another replaces. At least I think it’s a different one.

I’d been so distracted by the noises from the other room and the little shadows I didn’t see the massive frame entering the kitchen from the back. I jumped a good foot when I heard him speak.

“Why didn’t you say you were Devlons’ daughter?” General Cassian.

“Pardon?” It comes out quickly, just with one breath as I stare at him. His wings flexing with a slight irritation to them.

“You know what I asked.”

“Are you talking about earlier today or when we first met?” It’s a good question. Simple enough that if he doesn’t remember then I don’t have to possibly deal with the fact we drunkenly kissed. Or I can let him have some panic for calling my father ‘Lord Dickhead’. Even if that shoe fits.

“That depends. When do you think we first met?” I just slightly narrow my eyes, then glance in the direction of the dining room and back. What’s his game? And how do I play?

I’ve grown up around these warriors. Whilst I’d rather stay at home, I can bite back. “’Lord Dickhead.”

A saccharine smirk grows across his face, a glistening white canine peaking out. “What would Devlon thing about his daughter kissing an Illyrian bastard?”

“He didn’t know. The only one who did was my mom. Maybe your friends. But I never said a thing. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“That why you don’t train? Because he’s your father and he doesn’t allow you to?” He seems almost pissed as if it’s my father not letting me train.

I finally set my fork down with my plate and glare, “If I wished to train with everyone else. I would. It’s my choice whether I do or not. The High Lord doesn’t require me to train, he just states that the girls that wish to train, do. And I don’t want to.” My wings have started to flare just lightly, likely the only amount of dominance I’ll ever show.

He glances at my wings, eyes narrowing as if now realizing that my wings were clipped. A slight growl coursing through his chest. “So doesn’t allow you to train and clipped your wings. Wonder how Rhys would feel about him breaking both rules he’s imposed.”

I pull my wings back in close and tight to my back almost self-consciously before saying, “My wings are none of your business. It especially doesn’t concern the High Lord. What I do is not any of your business either. If I wanted to train, I would.”

“It matters if the Lord of this camp is breaking the laws that have been imposed by the High Lord. Rhysand has explained in great detail what the punishments are for wing clipping, and for not allowing the girls of camp to train.” I understand they want change. I do. But the punishments he’s talking about is either a beating or death. To “prove a point” they just kill them.

We’re in silence for a few minutes, him waiting for me to bite back likely. And when he seems to think I won’t, he turns to leave. To go back to his precious High Lord, but as he hits the doorway something makes me open my mouth, “They were clipped before I met you. Even before the bonfire.”

It makes him pause, but he continues back to the dining room.

It’s a week later until I see him again. I had been walking around the farmer market the camp has. And he seemed to be walking around buying some of the food, either for a quick lunch or just to support some of the families of Windhaven.

So, being the peace maker, I try to be, I go up to him, “Hi.” Simple, if he wants, he can ignore me, or he can engage.

“Y/N. How are you?” Okay so not an immediate ‘fuck off’ so that’s good.

“I’m doing great! How about you?”

“Good.” Okay so maybe he’s just being polite.

“…What brought you to the market today.” He just glanced at me, and it’s really making me rethink trying to be nice.

“Have you been over by the Monroe stall since being back at the camps? Cade and his wife Calliope run it now. I think he did the Blood Rite a couple years after you.”

He sighs, “What are you doing?” He just barley looks down at me, an emotion in his eye I can’t pinpoint.

I just shrug, “I don’t know, I figured you’d maybe like the company. I know you’re not the most popular in the camps all considering. Plus, that first time we met we were friends,” I look down at that, “At least I think we became friends. Even if it was just for that short time! I didn’t really see you after…. And I know the second time we met it was tense, but you were eating dinner with my father-“

He cuts me off, “Whilst you were eating the bare minimum in the kitchen. Alone.”

My eyebrows furrow just lightly, “I couldn’t really eat with you guys. You were discussing camp policies. Not really a place for me.”

“Because you’re a female?”

“No, because I don’t know anything about camp policies. It wouldn’t make sense for me to be there. It’d be like if I showed up for a war meeting. No reason for me to be there.” It makes sense in my head so I would think it makes sense in his.

“That’s your home. You prepared the meal; you welcomed us into the home. You should have sat at the table and ate.”

“Can I ask something General Cassian?” It’s something I want to know. But his face makes me smile just a little.

“You can just call me Cassian; but yes.” It’s almost a grumble with how he answers.

“Why does it bother you so much? How I decide to do things with my life?” He pauses in his step as if debating something. Either to answer or to tell me.

“That night. The… night of the ki- of the bonfire.” He rephrases his statement as if remembering we’re around others of camp. As if he realizes if anyone overhears, my virtue will be in question. My reputation in the camps, ruined. “I… I know we’re older. Now. But I thought I felt something… that night. Something deep in my soul. And then you were gone, the Blood Rite happened, then the war.

Just to find out you were under my nose the entire time. Did you know that Rhys didn’t know Devlon had a wife, let alone a child. One so close in age. Let alone one who’s wings had been clipped, doesn’t train with the other girls and females of camp.”

“He doesn’t have a wife anymore. My mother died not long after the war ended. And I told you the other night that my wings were already clipped the first time we met.” I sharply turn in front of him, “Also, I didn’t realize I had to inform you who I was when we met. I don’t usually walk up to people go ‘Hi my names Y/N, my father is Lord Devlon lets go make out!’ When we met, we were nobodies. You didn’t have a title, such an important role, so many responsibilities. So, I stayed out of the way. No matter what I might’ve felt that night.”

It's like a ripple is sent out. Something in the wind has changed. But all we can do is look at one another. Both breathing slightly heavily from what’s been shared.

Cassian looks away for just a second, nostrils flaring. “Is that why you didn’t come around? Because I’m a bastard? A fatherless motherless brute with no standing?”

I scoff at what he’s trying to imply, “Why would your parents matter to me? I didn’t come around because 1. How did I know you wished me to? You were sent to the Blood Rite the night after, then the war came, Rhysand became the High Lord and you left. 2. You forget that even though my father is Lord Devlon, I am a woman, a daughter to a brute that cares more for this camp than I. I have no standing which is something I’ve accepted.”

“So, I just assume I’m supposed to sit here and believe, that even when I was not a general, you would’ve had me? Would’ve let me court you?”

“YES!” I exclaimed, the few people still wondering around the market glancing in our direction. I hold my stuff a little tighter before glancing back at Cassian’s eyes, “Come on, follow me before we get into any more trouble.”

The winged male slowly followed behind, as if he were a child that had gotten in trouble. Luckily, father was to be with the ‘troops’ and wouldn’t be at home until late. So, we would be left in peace for a bit.

“Won’t Devlon get pissed your in here  unchaperoned with a male?” He’s almost hesitant in walking into the house, as if he’ll be run off for just walking in.

“Believe it or not, even though I’d rather stay in the house and raise kids than fight, I am allowed to make my own choices. Much to my father’s anger.” There’s just the smallest smile that graces his face, it lights up as he does.

“Is that why you don’t want to train? Because you would just rather keep house than be a warrior?” It’s as if he’s finally understanding me, finally realizing that everyone wants something different.

“I’m an only child, I always begged for siblings, always played with babydolls, or played house. My mother couldn’t have anymore kids, I never truly knew why I just know she couldn’t. Because of that, I spent most of my time playing ‘mom’ with different things and people. That’s all I wanted to be… Then my mother passed away after the war, that disease that passed through the camps, remember? The dreams of a sibling kind of… shattered, unless father remarries.

Then the High Lord became the High Lord, started changing the rules of the camps, trying to make change. Think what you want about my father, I know how he seems and gets viewed, but he’s always been like that distant in his own way. Cass, I wish I was one of the females of camp that wanted to train, he’d allow it if I truly wanted to, but I don’t. It’s not something I want for me, I want to be in the home taking care of people, raising kids if I get to have them. And if that’s not something you can accept… then I don’t know if there could be an… us.” I glance up towards him, and the most heartbroken look is on his face.

“I couldn’t care less if that’s what you truly want. I only cared because I thought you were being kept from what you wanted to do. I didn’t know you truly didn’t want to train, I thought you were being forced to keep house. That’s why I was pushing for it so much, that’s why I cared.” He still has the look on his face, as if I’ve killed his mate…. Wait….

“Earlier… you said something… about the night we… kissed. That you thought you felt something… What did you mean?” It’s like a white sheet has draped over him, his tan Illyrian skin lighting to an unhealthy look.

“It-it’s nothing. Just I don’t know Y/N we were drunk, but I just feel like-“ He’s twiddling with his fingers as I interrupt him. Something I never picture the general doing, the famed Prince of Bloodshed.

“It felt like something more? Something… in the making, or in the forming?” His hazel eyes make contact with mine, an almost knowing glint in them. Like he’s already thought that’s what it was, although there’s still a look of fear.

“I’m not sure if that’s what it is. The only experience I have with mates is Rhys’ parents’… and they weren’t… the best examples. I just know that night I felt something, and ever since then it felt like something’s been missing. Until we met again, and that feeling came back.” I chew on the corner of my lip, chewing on the skin some.

“So… are we mates?” That beautiful grin is back on his face, the color her lost coming back to the usual tan.

“I think we’re mates.”

Right as he says it, as if talking about it summoned it, that beautiful golden bridge is formed between us.

It’s been almost a week since the mating bond formed between us. Something that I’ve kept away from my father, which Cass has been in full support of. He has started to buy and give me courting gifts, which I can’t tell if my father noticed and is ignoring or not. Granted I did want to put feelers out at dinner tonight.

“Father?” I hope my tone isn’t as anxious as it sounds, but I fear it might be.

“What would you like Y/N?” He asks still reading the report he has in his right hand as he eats.

“Would....” How do I approach this? “Would it be okay if someone… started to court me?” This makes him pause mid-chew, and it’s then I start to wonder if maybe he is just slightly more male than I thought, than I saw.

“Is there a male in the camps courting you? Because if so, they should be coming to me for permission. Who is it?” Okay yeah maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up.

“I don’t think it’s actual courting, I just think someone has been giv-leaving gifts for me. Just little things that usually get seen as courting gifts. I just wanted your opinion on it father.” Simple, appeasing to his pride.

“I’m not sure which game you’re playing child, but if someone does wish to court you, then the proper way is through talking with me and allowing me to approve it. Are they a respectable male? The one leaving gifts.”

He doesn’t believe he’s respectable, but he’s more respectable than the males in camp. “What if they’re my mate? I know it’s rare, but if The Mother and Cauldron wished it, would you still accept them?”

My father stops chewing once again, as if getting tired of my questions during our usual meals. “You’ve been reading to many of those books again, haven’t you? They still need to speak with me if they wish to court you. Mating bond or not.” Okay so maybe he will accept Cassian then! “But if he is not a male of good standing, then it won’t be happening. I won’t have my child marrying some bastard, mating bond or not.” Shit.

“The books bring me joy father. Something to do once I’m done with my chores.” Entice my father with the sweet words for the females of his time, where we’re happy with doing chores. Which for me I am but still.

It wasn’t until hours later when I go meet Cass that I told him.

“How’d your father take it?” He asks, wrapping me up in his arms holding me close to him. The bond thumping along our chests, even unmated and it thrives with life.

“I chickened out… Don’t look at me like that! I asked how he’d feel if someone started courting me, and he said he wanted them to come to him to ask permission. So, I asked what if they were my mate. But he said if that was the case, even so rare it is, that he’d technically allow it, unless they weren’t in ‘good standing’.” Cass lightly pushes me slightly away from him to look at me.

“So, your father’s definitely not going to allow me to court you. My mate. I knew your father hated bastards but…” He sounds upset about the fact, which is understandable.

I look up and run a finger along the length of his nose, “You could always rescue me, be the amazing knight again and me being the maiden. Take me away to the Moonstone Palace safely tucked away.” He gets some kind of guilty look on his face at the mention of Moonstone Palace.

“Is that what you’d want? For me to take you away from your father, bring you back to my home with me?” he’s sincere in his question, and I know he’d do it in an instant.

“I wanted my father to approve. I wanted him to be okay with our relationship, with our eventual mating. To be happy for me that I was able to find a male that could care for me. Mates aren’t something that happened, let alone happen in these camps. But I’d never forgive him if he tried to keep me away from you.” And I wouldn’t. He’s my father and I’d do almost anything for him, like he’s done for me, but this is a chance at my happiness.

“I’ll see what I can do, speak with Rhys about seeing if there’s anything that can be done. If there’s a loophole.” He’s sweet and doesn’t even have to do what he plans to do. Really, he could just cut his losses and move on.

The issue was we were wrapped up in each other, we never even noticed the male watching from the shadows. So, when I awoke the next day, my bedroom door locked; I didn’t know what was to happen. Was even more shocked when I found my father in the corner of my room waiting.

“Are you fucking him?” It was all he said. Just like that my loving father was replaced with the male Lord of the camp.

“What?” No, seriously, what?

“Are you fucking that bastard?”

“Father what are you talking about? I haven’t been with anyone, you know this.” Really, all me and Cass have done is kiss. Yet that little brush of question down the bond from him makes me wonder if it could be seen as more.

“It’s been reported to me that you have been seen sneaking out. Then meeting that bastard born foot solider. So, I’ll ask you again. Are you. Fucking. That Bastard.” He’s pissed, I’m pissed that someone’s followed me to him. Because this is going to fuck over whatever plans me and Cass made.

The anger on his face makes me pull on the bond and send just the smallest rush of panic down the bond. Hopefully letting him know that somethings wrong, that I might need assistance. “Father, I don’t know what someone claims to have seen but they are wrong. You know I would never do that, compromise us like that. You’ve raised me better than that.” He didn’t necessarily raise me at all, my mother did. He just kept us alive in terms of money.

“So, the male is lying to me and your telling the truth?”

“Father, you have nothing to fear. You know I am waiting for your approval and marriage. It would be unladylike of me to not have my maidenhead before being married.” It’s not a lie, I do still have my maidenhead, but I am kind of sneaking around with Cass.

Speaking of who, responds with my earlier tug, with one of his own, and a questioning feeling down the bond. I tug back almost instantly, sending back reassurance but still a little push of panic. Hopefully getting the point across I need him.

“If that is the case you won’t care for me to go get the male and question him again. See which of you are lying.” He knows something. Either there’s actual evidence of me and Cassian sneaking around, or someone is trying to screw me. I’m not happy about either.

I just shrug in response, “I just planned on cleaning up around the house today. So, I’ll be here if you wish to ask me anymore questions.” I smiled at him kindly.

I need to figure out a way to get out of camp.

My fathers’ eyes just narrow at me, before his lip curls and he leaves the room completely. Not locking the door behind him thankfully.

It was only two hours later I heard a knock on the back door; a sharp tug following after telling me who it was. Picture my surprise when I let Cass in and the High Lord and Shadowsinger follow in behind him.

I start to try and bow but before I can even attempt to Cass pulls me into a hug. “What’s going on?”

I push back lightly, “Someone saw us the other night. When we met and talked about leaving. Someone had followed. Father thinks we’ve…” I stop, and glance at the other two before finishing.

The High Lord leans against the wall, the Shadowsinger joining him, “So he thinks you’ve slept with him and thus are basically worthless in terms of any marriage deals.”

My face rushes to a heated tint, and Cassian growls in response, “Rhys.” It’s a simple command he makes. Don’t speak about my maidenhead so casually.

“Do you know who the male was that reported seeing you guys?” It’s the Shadowsinger that speaks now.

I shake my head, “No, he locked me in my room, waited for me to wake then basically came and interrogated me. Just said someone reported to him that they watched me ‘sneak out’ then followed me and saw me meet up with Cass.”

He shares glances with the Lord and Cass, before Cass asks, “How pissed is he?”

“Well, I can almost guarantee that when he comes back later after questioning that male again it won’t be a happy dinner.”

Cassian runs a quick hand down his face, and it makes me feel bad that I’m putting him through this stress. As if noticing my feelings, the High Lord speaks.

“Devlon would be pissed no matter what. The Cauldron themselves could be your mate and he’d be upset. It does slightly complicate things, but this is an easy issue to solve.”

“Rhys. Don’t insinuate my mate is an issue.”

“Not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Az do you think you’d be able to intercept Devlon before he finds out to much information?” Cass asks, and before I can tell them it’s likely to late, he’s gone. Shadows hiding him away taking him… somewhere.

“Y/N, do you want to stay and see what happens or would you like to pack some stuff to leave?” The High Lord—Rhys, I guess is what I should call him now. Cass has told me enough about him I feel it’d be appropriate.

“Do you think it’s needed?” I don’t want to leave my home. It’s the home I was born and raised in, the home my mother lived and died in. The home I learned my purpose of life in.

Cassian answers instead, “Me and my brothers were talking. The three of us think it may be safer if you come with us. But… I’ll leave you with the option. The choice to see how your father reacts. We just think it’ll be safer if you come with us at the end of the day. We… we don’t know what Devlon will do once finding out we’re mates.”

I must look sad about that because Cass brings me closer, if possible, and his wings just slightly curl towards me. “He wouldn’t hurt me. He might be some type of monster but he’s still my father.”

Rhys answers for Cass, “It’s not that we think he’d intentionally hurt you, but he said it himself, he wouldn’t marry you to your mate if it wasn’t a… good match. But it wouldn’t be a happy life if you stayed. I know it’s a big ask, this is your home, all you’ve known. But I also know Cassian would be a lot happier if you were with him. Safe.”

Closing my eyes, I sigh because I know they’re right. I’d be happier in the long run with him. “I’ll go pack some things. Should I wait or just leave a note?” My voice is solemn.

Cassian and Rhys look at one another, but Cass answers, “I’d leave a note for now. We can always come back if you want to see if he’d like to make amends.”

And so, I do, I leave a simple note apologizing. Telling him that I was in fact still a maiden, even if he thinks I’m not. Tell him that Cass is my mate, and I couldn’t have a higher-ranking male as my husband. If he wishes to speak with me, he can send letters.

Other than that, I take my most prized possessions. Some of my mother’s jewelry, books, a few more odds and in’s I’ve collected in my few hundred years of living.

Then we left. So, I can be happy with my mate, and his family.

Author's Note:

This was going to be 5.6k words but last night I felt it needed just a little more angst because we all know Devlon would be pissed.

Like, comment, share/reblog.

dividers came from @firefly-graphics

DO NOT REPOST. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR THIS TO BE POSTED TO ANY OTHER SITE.

[seedofjoseph]

hellbent (WIP)

Author's Note: After posting homebound (link), I immediately began working on a ficlet featuring the overprotective love interest trope starring John Seed. However, I've only picked it up again this week, so I'm posting this early on WIP Wednesday.

The whole of Holland Valley knew John Seed as a madman. You? All you knew was that he was mad. Wrath he called you, though it sounded like it suited him better. Especially during his last radio call.

“Wrath,” he screamed through the static. “Godammit, Wrath! Where are you?”

“Language, Seed,” you shot back, not being able to see if you’ve hit your target, but hearing the words had wounded him instead. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.”

“I’ll find you, girl,” his words were muffled, his mouth probably planted close enough to kiss the microphone. “Even if I have to burn down every dive bar and liquor store in this valley to draw you out, I’ll find you.”

“Thought you let me break curfew so that I could go bar hopping,” you smirked. And, while he couldn’t have seen you do so, he sure as shit heard it in your tone. “I thought you let me out so that I could indulge in my sins.”

“I did and you have,” he answered, the coolness of it making him out to be as inhuman as the receiver his voice was coming out of. “And now I’m coming to save you from yourself.” Before you could press the button to press his buttons, John Seed went completely cold as the receiver went silent.

Feeling only a little bit frustrated by his lack of fire on this chilly night, you finally dismount your bike and let it recline on the stand instead of your legs. After, you unfasten your leather jacket on your short walk to the rest stop entrance, feeling only a little bit heated. Then, taking in the neon-lit shelves and the yellow-stained floors, you cool off with the thought of a cold Coke.

The truth is that you didn’t set out to indulge in anything else besides caffeine tonight. And the lie is that you bask in the fire your wrath left in its wake. That is the lie you fed to John Seed through your shared frequency, the target you put on your back as you drove away from Holland Valley, from everyone you wouldn’t want to be in his crosshairs. And the truth was that businesses that you were a patron of were going up in flames.

So you sigh in sweet relief as the taste of the sugary drink elevated some weight off of your heavy shoulders. “Needed that,” you paid for the half-emptied bottled as soon as you made it to the counter. “Keep the change.” And you exit before the kid on the other side of it can lift his head and recognize you.

All you knew was that John Seed was mad and you wouldn’t bet a poor boy’s life on him not blowing a gasket along with the rest stop.

“That you, Deputy?”

The door slammed loudly behind you, but it’s a shouting human voice that startled you.

You shake your head frantically and walk back to your bike briskly. “Not tonight I’m not.”

The man is indignant and you can tell from the sound that comes out of his throat. Because you weren’t facing him. You couldn’t face him. Not after what happened the last time you did.

“It’s me,” you hear him hop out of the pick-up and bounce back on his boots like he’d lost his footing. “It’s Jean. But you called me Jaaawn,” he slurs like he’d forgotten how you speak. “Yes, Jaaawn. Fuck yes,” he spits your own drunken words back to you.

It’s like he’s getting the both of you shitfaced again. It’s like he’s in your face and up your shirt and in your pants again. Like you never shoved him off of you and locked him in the bathroom stall. Like the bar is still up and running and not in ruins after some Peggie recognised you stumbling out of it and gave John Seed the excuse to indulge in his wrath.

“I’d buy you a drink, buuut,” he stumbles between you and your bike. “But John made them all go BOOM.”

Jean didn’t look much like John Seed tonight, so that drink he’d bought you was strong enough to make him shape-shift before your very inebriated eyes. Though he stands at the same height and combs back the same dark hair with fingers covered in just as much ink, his eyes are more murky green than clear blue. And though he stands before you untouched by the collateral damage your indulgence has caused, you don’t hesitate to lay your hands on him and shove him to the side.

“I’m going sober,” you decline, determined to quit drinking Coke, too, and drive off.

“Least you could do is moan my name,” he spits. “My real name. While I'm fingerin’ your pussy. That was me, bitch, not John fuckin’ Seed.”

The whole of Holland Valley knew John Seed had eyes and ears everywhere. All you knew was that Jean’s slurred speech had summoned him and the empty rest stop you’d pulled into is now crawling by his cavalry.

“Oh, my God,” Jean tries and fails to find his footing and stumbles backwards into your bike. “Oh, my fuckin’ God,” he turns around and takes you in, eyes filled with fear. “Don’t let him kill me, deputy. Please don’t let him kill me.”

Your voice is steady as you instruct him to get inside, even as your heart is rattling the cage that is your chest. And your body shields the entrance, even if your soul threatens to make its escape. But you won’t let it or yourself get away. And you won’t leave another trail of fire in your wake.

“Wrath,” he calls you, but this sin burns brighter in his words than they ever did in yours. And he hops out of the van in a hurry, already heaving like he’d been chasing you on foot through the Valley. “How many more lives have to go up in flames before you’re satiated?”

“None,” you raise your hands in front of you, adding more distance between the Reaper and the two lives. “Not a single one. I’m done.” Then, you stretch your arms above your head. “I’m done, okay?”

You were far from done, far from having your eyelids ripped open, the furthest you can be from amazing grace. And his big brother would’ve called you blind still, but you needed him to see you as enlightened right now.

What your blind eyes do see is something strange in John Seeds eyes, something which resembled a comforting warmth and not a punishing fire.

“It’s suffocating, isn’t it?” His voice is horse like he’s been shouting, and your throat dries like he is right. You are suffocating. “Your wrath has set the world on fire and you’re the only one left to breathe in the ashes.”

The little air left between the two of you is enough for you to exhale: “Yes.”

TO BE CONTINUED

[gvfgal]

Bound- Chapter Two

Chapter One

A/n: Chapter 2 is here!!!! This chapter is pretty fluffy, I know you guys are waiting on the good stuff *wink wink* but it’s coming, trust me!

No warnings for this chapter.

Word Count: 3.1k

You were definitely hung over the next day. The sun had you shielding your eyes with a lazy hand, groaning with exhaustion as you awakened from your deep slumber.

Turning over on your back, you let out a huff as you blinked to adjust your eyes. As you remembered the night that you spent with Jake, a blush began to creep up on your face.

But your thoughts were cut short as the sound of tires coming up the driveway snapped you back to reality. You sat straight up to look out the window, and upon seeing Jake's truck approaching, you sprang out of bed. Both of your parents were at work, so you were obligated to answer the door for him, you couldn’t leave him standing out there right?

Or could you…?

You quickly shook away the thought, rushing to look yourself over in the mirror. Mascara was smeared across your cheekbones, and your hair was a tangled mess. A quick fix, you used the heel of your palms to wipe the smudged mascara away, then grabbed a scrunchy from your vanity and tied your hair up in a high bun.

Dashing into the bathroom, you swished around a mouthful of mouthwash, spitting it into the sink before splashing cold water on your face.

Jake's knuckles rapped against the door just as you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

You flung the door open, and Jake flinched slightly.

“Jake! Hey, what are you doing here?” you rushed out.

Stopping dead in your tracks, your eyes fell to the beautiful bouquet of lavender hydrangeas and coral bells that he was holding.

Jake smiled at you as you stared wide eyed, eyes darting back and forth between his face and the flowers.

“Well I um, wanted to come check on you, make sure you weren’t too hungover after last night,” he chuckled, then willed your eyes to look at his, “and I also wanted to… well I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Ever since I dropped you off last night I just, I wanted to be near you again. No, I needed to be near you again. I don’t know, I feel like I can’t be away from you for too long or I’ll go crazy.”

He was much more serious now as he extended the bouquet of flowers out to you, and you took them hesitantly.

You wanted to thank him for the beautiful bouquet, but your heart was lodged in your throat upon his revelation, and words couldn’t be formed.

But you needn’t worry, Jake spoke up again to break through the lingering silence.

“And I was wondering if I could take you out… on a date. A proper one.”

“Right… right now?” You surveyed your attire then glanced back up at him.

“Well yeah,” he was growing increasingly uneasy, reaching a hand up to rub over the back of his neck, “I thought maybe we could go grab breakfast at the diner in town, maybe see where the day takes us?”

Shock was an understatement for what you were feeling in the moment. Here was your life long crush, the one you never thought you’d get to have, standing on your porch, bearing gifts, asking to take you on a date. You pondered momentarily if you were dreaming in your drunken state from the night before, but you quickly realized the feelings that buzzed inside felt all too real for this to be a dream.

You also realized that if you didn’t say something soon, you may lose this opportunity forever.

“I’m… not dressed,” you mumbled, “I’d need a little time to get ready.”

He grinned, “don’t worry, I can wait. I’m a patient man.”

You stepped aside to let him in, and his heavy boots clamped down on the wood as he made slow steps through the threshold.

You led him to the kitchen where he took a seat at the small table, then began busying yourself preparing a pot of coffee and getting water for your flowers, silent as you did so.

“You can help yourself to some coffee once it’s done brewin’,” you instructed once you finished the tasks, “I’m gonna go get ready… for our date.”

The corners of Jake’s mouth turned upward, “okay.”

You excused yourself, then awkwardly turned on your heels to ascend the stairs, silently scolding yourself for being so weird.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

30 minutes later you returned, dressed now in a pair of high waisted shorts and a white button down linen shirt tucked on one side, your Keds that you’ve had since highschool tied securely on your feet. You redid the bun on your head, it was much more presentable now, and you carried your same saddle bag.

Jake’s eyes followed you as you entered the kitchen, sipping the remaining coffee in his mug as you came and stood directly in front of him.

“Ready?” he questioned, standing from his seat.

You nodded, “ready.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The diner was busy as usual, it being one of the only places in town to get a good breakfast.

Being very familiar with the menu, Jake and you ordered as soon as the waitress was at your table, and you found yourself grinning at the fact that he still ordered the same thing he did when you were kids. Three buttermilk pancakes (it used to be only two, but that just wasn’t enough anymore), two slices of applewood bacon (extra crispy), sunny side up eggs, and a large bowl of grits.

You made small talk as you waited for your food to arrive, and your nerves quickly faded away as you and Jake fell into your old ways. He’d tease you, you’d blush, then shoot back a smart response.

But soon enough, your mood began to shift. You were enjoying your date, but you were suddenly confused. You’d spent years pining over Jake, laying in bed at night dreaming about the day he’d finally ask you on a date, but it seemed so out of reach.

Yet here you were, and it was a simple timeline of events that led you to this point, much more simple than you thought it’d be. If it were really this easy, why hadn’t you done this years ago? What changed in that time you two spent apart that brought you to this point?

Jake noticed your shift in mood, watching the way you played with the food on your plate as he fed himself a forkful of pancakes drowning in syrup. He furrowed his brow, “what’s on your mind, darlin’?”

The nickname sent shockwaves through your body, but you didn’t let that stop you from responding, you needed answers.

“Why now?”

He looked confused as he chewed, so you clarified the question.

“Why all of a sudden you decide to take me on a date? After all these years, why now? What’s changed?”

He looked reflective as he let your words sink in, gnawing at a piece of bacon.

“Well that’s the thing. Nothings changed at all.”

You were confused now, and Jake smiled.

“I don’t think it’s any secret that I like you. I’ve always liked you, I mean how could I not?”

“But what about high school? You hardly acknowledged my existence then.”

Jake dropped his head and shook it, “yeah I uh… I guess I was pretty stupid back then. I should’ve never let you slip away like that, caught up in my own world, but that never changed how I felt about you. And when you left for Berkeley… I was kinda heartbroken to be honest. Didn’t realize how much I’d miss you until you were gone. I promised if I ever got the chance to see you again I’d do it right, you know make up for lost time. And then when I saw you in the square a few weeks back, then just yesterday, being able to hang out with you like we used to… I knew I had to have you around me again. I couldn’t let you get away again. I won’t let you get away again.”

You were an absolute puddle at that point. It was no use hiding how flushed your face had become, and you’d shrunken into yourself in the booth you were sitting in.

Jake was smirking at you now, “was that answer good enough for you?”

Slowly, you nodded, and he picked up his fork, still smirking as he pointed it towards your plate, “you gonna eat your food now?”

Your mouth curled into a smile as you sat up a little straighter and grabbed your utensils from the table, “yeah, I am.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After your meal, Jake said he had somewhere else he wanted to take you. 10 minutes later, you guys were at the old abandoned windmill farm that you used to frequent as kids.

Still ever a kid at heart, Jake climbed one of the old rickety structures, perching himself at the top before helping you up. You guys talked for a while, the tension from earlier having long disappeared. It was comfortable again, the way it usually was, and was always supposed to be.

You found yourself talking more than you ever had before, telling him anything and everything, and just as he always had, Jake listened, unable to take his eyes off of you as he did so, too absorbed in the fact that he had you by his side again.

Once you grew tired of sitting, the two of you headed back into town, hitting up the old thrift store then the record store. Jake couldn’t help but select The Who’s My Generation album to add to his collection.

The ice cream parlor was the next stop, you selecting a strawberry cone with rainbow sprinkles, and Jake deciding on a simple vanilla cone of his own. You sat outside in the sweltering heat, racing to finish off your treats before the sun consumed it.

Jake insisted on showing you how he and his brothers had transformed the old garage tucked away on their parents land into a bachelor pad of their own, and you couldn’t say no.

You were well aware that the Kiszka boys were good at working with their hands, but the construction was beyond impressive. Off to the right side of the garage was a small living and kitchen area, to the left, Sam’s modestly sized bedroom and bathroom. The top floor was a simple hallway with three doors, one to the left, Josh’s room, one to the right, Jake’s, and in the middle, a bathroom the two shared.

But what was most amazing to you, was the fact that the old garage still stood in the middle, reinforced in a few areas, but other than that, it was exactly as you remembered it. Full of posters and flyers, their accumulation of instruments and equipment organized in a chaotic way (it worked for them). As you studied the space, you even noticed that your name was still carved into one of the wooden planks, Jake’s idea one winter after receiving a Swiss Army knife for Christmas.

“So you’ll always be here with us, even when you aren’t,” he’d said.

The memory made your cheeks glow.

But the day didn’t end there.

After giving you a tour, Jake snatched up his acoustic from it’s stand, a blanket from the foot of his bed, and you guys loaded back into the car.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was now sunset as you and Jake relaxed in the bed of his truck at the creek, blanket spread beneath you as he strummed a pretty melody on his guitar. You were sprawled out on your back, eyes closed as you listened to him play. If you had to guess, this is what heaven would be like.

You turned your head to look over at Jake, shielding your eyes from the blinding sun, “you know I never thanked you for my flowers earlier.”

He continued to play as he glanced down at you, “ forgot all about that, I was too busy having fun with you today.”

A teasing look graced his face, “but it would be nice to hear you say it.”

You giggled, “thank you, Jacob, for my beautiful, beautiful flowers. I love them. And I had fun with you today too. Most fun I’ve had in awhile.”

He turned to look back over the sparkling water, “seems like we’re always having fun, you and I.”

“Yeah, seems like it,” you beamed.

Turning over on your stomach, you placed your chin in your palms, ogling him, “so you like me, huh?”

Jake threw his head back in laughter before shaking his head at you, “you’re something else, you know that? Yeah, I like you. Ain’t it obvious?”

You shoved him playfully, “only took you sixteen years to tell me.”

It grew quiet between you two again, the only sound to be heard was the crickets chirping around you.

“Why did it take you so long, Jake? If you really did care about me like that all these years, why wait until now?” you implored, more serious now than you were before.

Again, he pondered, sitting his guitar beside him.

He cleared his throat, “I’m the first to admit that I’m not the best at expressing how I’m feelin’ all the time, though I have gotten better with age. But it’s like I said earlier, it felt like now or never. I got a taste of what it was like to live without you around, and I didn’t like livin’ that way. You with me, it just feels right, like that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’s different than anything I’ve felt before, and I don’t wanna stop feelin’ it. Ever.”

You laid your head on his lap, feeling bolder now than ever after the confirmation. Without missing a beat, Jake began rubbing your back soothingly.

“Ever?” You repeated.

He shook his head, emphasizing his point, “ever.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Quiet again, only this time, it was warm and inviting. It seemed to hug you and Jake, pushing you further into each other.

The sun had just disappeared now, and Jake picked his guitar back up, switching the melody as you continued to lay your head on him, not ready to give up his touch just yet.

Out of the darkness, an orb of light illuminated in front of you before disappearing again.

You sat up as it flashed again, growing excited.

“Jake, look! A lightning bug!” you pointed.

Another two joined the first, and you hopped down from the bed of the truck and began chasing them around.

Jake was nothing but smiles as he recalled one of his fondest memories with you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

July 17th, 1959

Townsend, Tennessee

It was a long day spent at the creek with your parents and the Kiszka family. You and the boys had been in the water all day, only getting out to eat the lunch that was packed.

But now that it was dark, and your parents deemed the water unsafe, you guys had resorted to chasing around lightning bugs with mason jars, hoping to be lucky enough to catch one to take home.

After trying (and failing) multiple times to catch one of the flying creatures, you decided to bench yourself from the activity. You took a seat on a nearby rock and watched as the twins leaped around behind the bugs, lunging at them with jar and vented lid in hand.

You admired the glimpses of Jake’s face you got every time a light went off near his face, an eight year old you had never seen anyone so perfect.

When Jake noticed you sitting out, he jogged over to you, confusion spread on his face.

“Why ain’t you playin’ anymore?” he asked as he took a seat next to you.

You shrugged, “just got tired, I guess. I couldn’t catch any.”

One thing Jake always loved about you was how soft and sweet your voice was. Every time you spoke his senses heightened, and he had no choice but to give you his full attention.

“So you’re giving’ up?” he teased you.

You shoved his shoulder with your own, “I ain’t givin’ up. I’m just tired. I told you that.”

Jake smiled at the way you were sulking, before he grabbed your jar and stood up.

You straightened your back as you watched him zero in on one of the bugs, stalking behind it slowly.

“What are you doin—”

“Shh,” he cut you off, “you’re gonna scare it away.”

Following his command, you sat silently and watched as he continued to track the creature. After several moments, it began floating in his direction, and with calculated movements, Jake ushered it into the jar, closing the lid behind it.

He screwed it shut and brought it back over to you, handing it off casually, “for you.”

You eyed him as you took the jar, “thank you. But you know I didn’t need you to catch one for me. I coulda done it myself.”

“I know,” Jake nodded with a smize, “but I wanted to.”

You started blushing, he loved making you blush.

“What are you gonna name him?”

Taking a moment to marvel at the creature, you gave the question serious consideration.

“I’m gonna name him Jake Jr.”

He smiled, “I like the sound of that.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Jake could hardly contain the emotions that crashed into him.

For so long, you’d held a special place in his heart that could never be compromised, not even by the Gods themselves, the memory confirming that to be true.

Love.

It was love.

He didn’t care if someone saw it as too soon, for him, it wasn’t soon enough.

He hated the time he lost with you, but he decided from that moment on, that he’d lose no more.

As you continued to prance around the field, Jake came and joined you. You were wearing a smile when you turned to him, but upon seeing the look on his face, it dropped.

“Jake, what—”

“Can I kiss you?” the question was abrupt.

You could tell he was slightly nervous, but you had never felt more at home in your life.

Stepping forward, you wrapped your arms around his torso, looking up at him with a goofy grin, “only if I can kiss you.”

Jake chuckled before bringing his hands to your face to pull you into his lips.

Your bodies melted into each other’s as the kiss lingered on, never heating up but never slowing down.

The kiss you two shared that night could’ve easily healed the entire world. It was momentous, life changing, the first kiss every girl dreamed of.

As you tasted Jake’s lips on your own, you knew this was it, you were sure of it. There was no going back.

It was absolutely, unreservedly, without a doubt, endgame.

Jacob Thomas Kiszka had you through and through, and by the way he kissed you, you were almost positive you had him too.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Chapter Three

Taglist: @jakesgrapejuice

[purplesurveys]

1641

When was the last time you did something you didn’t want to do, to please someone else? It was like two Sundays ago when my mom thought my shirt was too short for church and told me to wear a jacket to cover up. I normally wouldn’t have had any problem complying, but what made it frustrating is that she regularly wears sleeveless tops to mass lol like what gives? Why such a hypocrite? Anyway I didn’t feel like spitting that fact out because it would’ve gotten me stuck in an argument 100%, so I just wore the stupid jacket.

If you wear mascara, what brand is it? Do you have mascara in any colours other than brown or black? I don’t wear mascara. My eyelashes are super long and prominent to begin with so I’ve never felt the need for it.

Do you have a favourite outfit that you like to wear for nights out? I rarely get into nights out anymore because nearly all my friends are either 1) knee-deep in law school or 2) are in that part of the mid-20s where it’s more appealing to stay in LOL but in the rare time that we successfully make plans I would typically opt for like a crop halter top or something sleeveless, and baggy bottoms.

When was the last time you painted your nails? What colour(s)? A long, long time ago. It was purple if I remember correctly.

Do you know what you’re going to wear tomorrow? I don’t have any events lined up for tomorrow and will only be working from home, so I’ll just have to wear some sort of presentable top in case I have to have my cam on for a call, and then my normal lounge shorts underneath.

When you have a soft drink, do you prefer it in a bottle or can? I would rather not drink soda at all but if it were the last thing on Earth, I’d go for can.

What’s your least favourite alcoholic drink? BEER.

Do your parents get annoyed if you go out and come home drunk? They would be more infuriated than annoyed, but realistically this never happens because I’m always my own driver and I would never drive drunk.

Do you like iced tea or coffee? Both are ok but I definitely prefer coffee a lot more. Iced tea can be too sweet.

Who was the last person to embarrass you? What did they do? She didn’t do it on purpose, but a workmate hosted a trivia game earlier and one of the questions was something everyone expected me to know/associated with me. Long story short, I genuinely didn’t actually know the answer to it but I was pelted with a lot of teasing and taunting for like a good 30 seconds, which I hated lol.

When you’re upset, do you tend to comfort eat or lose your appetite? I completely LOSE it. It’s bad and unhealthy, but I really do lose it and I can’t help it. Just two weeks ago I was stuck in a shitty, helpless situation at work and I legit didn’t eat for like...30 hours. I never felt hunger that entire time and only ate eventually because I realized I had to...well, keep myself alive.

Do you have a friend or relative that turns into a complete ninny when they’ve had too much to drink? First of all, what is a ‘ninny’?

Have you ever eaten so much of a favourite food that you got bored of it? Yeah McDo has this chicken sandwich that my mom used to get me every single day because she knew it was my favorite – until one day it wasn’t anymore because I got so sick of it. To this day I can’t really have it often.

What’s the unhealthiest thing you’ve eaten today? Three donuts in the span of like 10 minutes.

Who was the last person to send you a message on Facebook? Does/did that person go to the same school as you? Reena. We went to the same university, yeah, but different elementary and high schools.

How is your hair looking today? It cooperated majestically today and I fully credit that to being in air-conditioned rooms the entire day. See why I hate humidity and my country’s climate so much? Hahahaha.

What is your favourite brand of haircare products? Cream Silk works like magic for my hair. I used to handle a different haircare brand as one of my accounts and I’m so glad I no longer work with them, because I was always a Cream Silk gal, lol.

Have you bought any alcoholic drinks in the past week? Haven’t bought anything but I did drink a bit of soju last night as solidarity for JK who had a big-ass glass of whiskey during his live.

Has a stranger ever offered to buy you a drink? Yeah, once.

Do you know anyone that talks constantly about themselves and never even bothers to ask you how you are? Yeah my mom can be like that sometimes.

When was the last time you used a public toilet? Around a month-ish ago.

If the last person that hurt you apologized, what would you say to them? “No biggie, I super get it!” with a voiceover in the background hovering and saying, “It was most definitely a fucking biggie and she does not understand she had to have her feelings hurt.”

Did you go shopping today? Nah only thing I did was show up physically for work.

What was the last thing that put a smile on your face? Seeing my dogs.

What is something you’d be happy to receive as a gift, that doesn’t cost a lot? Kwek-kwek.

You’re given an extra $10 and told to go and treat yourself. What do you buy? I’d get some fast food delivered.

Has anyone ever asked for your phone number, and you refused to give it to them? I don’t think so.

When was the last time you used someone else’s phone to text or make a call? Whose phone was it? I haven’t done that since early high school when I didn’t have a phone yet and had to update my parents on my whereabouts. It was most likely either Angela’s or Athenna’s, bless them.

Do you have a favourite comfort food, that you absolutely must eat whenever you’re ill or upset? I rarely get sick. The closest answer I can give is that when my braces were new and I was growing frustrated that I couldn’t eat most foods, the first thing I asked was for cream of mushroom soup.

If you were to decide now that you wanted to get drunk, what alcohol is available in your house? Whiskey, beer, wine, and a whole lot of soju. I always want to have stock of the latter since it’s my favorite.

What kind of music does your significant other/crush like to listen to? I don’t have a partner.

When was the last time you ate cake? What type of cake was it? Really can’t remember; I’m not a big fan of cake. Probably that cheesecake I got at Starbucks around two months ago?

Who did you have your first kiss with? Do you remember what colour his/her eyes were? An ex; brown.

What’s the last letter of your surname? Not sharing.

In your phone’s contacts, who is the first person listed under ‘M’? What colour is that person’s hair? Kezhia. I think she just has her natural black hair at the moment.

Whose Facebook timeline did you post on most recently? I never post on other people’s walls.

Are there any themes from TV shows that you like to sing along to? Friends, Big Bang Theory, and I make it a point to hum along to Brooklyn Nine-Nine’s, Breaking Bad’s, and The Walking Dead’s as well.

Kinky question time … to turn you on quickly, where is the best place to touch or kiss you? Nec

Do your grandparents ever ask you about your love life? No. I’m in the minority of Filipino grandkids/nieces that fortunately never gets constantly probed about my love life, lol.

Do you eat dessert after dinner? No, not a big fan of sweets anyway.

Does anyone send you messages to say good morning or goodnight? Nope.

Have you ever had too much to drink and felt embarrassed about your behaviour the next day? Yep.

Have you ever gone into school/work with a hangover? School, yeah. I don’t think it’s ever happened in my current job though.

What was the last thing your parents gave you money for? Parking fees. I never carry cash these days so I had to ask for some from my mom since parking booths/stalls for some annoying reason are still largely on cash-only basis.

Who were the last people you had a group conversation with on Facebook? Angela and Reena.

The last time you were in a car, who was driving? My mom.

Who was the last person you took a photo of? Also my mom.

What was the last thing that stressed you out? Work.

Tell me about your last night out. Did anything interesting or amusing happen? We went to Pop-Up hoping to p a r t y, but we were quick to remember that most college kids were still on sem break so the atmosphere felt super dry. There were no booths playing music or DJ’ing and it also wasn’t crowded at all hahaha, very unlike how it usually is on a Friday night. It was pretty boring but at least my co-workers and I got a lot of good conversations out of it!

Who was the last new artist you came across, that you really liked? SE SO NEON.

What was the last video you watched on YouTube? I currently have a Cong vlog in the background. What was the last song you listened to, that reminded you of someone? Jin’s cover of Autumn Outside the Post Office. Just reminded me of...well, Jin.

Have you ever told anyone that you were never going to speak to them again, but then you did? I’ve never told anyone that to their face, but I have privately made that decision towards some people and have acted on it. I usually have no problem burning bridges as long as the reasons are valid and that I do it to protect myself.

How old is the last male you texted? No clue. Asking media contacts for their age isn’t something that comes up in conversation haha.

When you go out drinking, what do you prefer to drink? Cocktails. I’m mostly retired from shots now lol

What was the last thing a friend bought for you? Coffee.

What colour was the last mug you drank out of? That would be black.

Do you have a collection of anything? K-pop merch.

Is there a food or drink that you haven’t had before, but would like to try? Authentic shawarma! We have loads of shawarma restaurants here but a good 98% of them are always local takes, which are always bitched about Filipino kids who were raised in the Middle East. I’d love to know how the real deal is like and how it differs from the shawarma I’ve always had.

[dadbodosamu]

only you || part i

Stepdad Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: pseudocest, stepcest, cheating, wombfucking, semi-public sex (in an alley), extremely light dumbification, breeding kink, spit kink, Osamu has a dick piercing

4.5k words. thanks to @waka-chan-out and @vanilleswtmacaron for beta reading this and reassuring me that it doesn’t suck lol

ao3 link here (aha its not too long mobile just sucks!!) part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

You sighed as you tapped your fingers on the table. Your mom had decided it was high time for you to meet your new stepdad, who you had put off meeting for the past three years. You smiled as you remembered the perfectly timed appendicitis that had you missing the wedding. You couldn’t have planned it better if you tried. 

Your dad had only passed away a little under four years ago, leaving your mom to remarry only six months later. You’d opted to live with your grandmother, citing her health as a reason to live with her on her farm. Your plan had worked perfectly, and you hadn’t had to meet Osamu for three years.

Now though, with your grandmother in the hospital, your mom thought it was a great time for you to come and visit and finally meet the great Osamu.

“Osamu should be home any minute,” your mom said, smiling happily over the takoyaki she was making. “He’s bringing your favourite!”

“Yay,” you said, unenthusiastically. You glanced at the time on your phone. You were almost wishing Osamu to be here so you wouldn’t have to spend another awkward second with your mom.

You and your mom hadn’t been close to begin with, you always being a daddy’s girl from the day you were born. And after remarrying so quickly, you’d drifted even further apart. At this point, you had nothing to speak to her about.

“I’m home!” Someone called. The door slid shut behind them and you glanced around, waiting for them to appear in the kitchen. “And I brought umeboshi onigiri!”

The man who stepped into the kitchen nearly knocked you out of your seat.

He was handsome. Devastatingly, heartachingly, handsome. He was tall, with brown hair and deep grey eyes, and thick. His t-shirt was pulled taut over his broad shoulders and his thighs in his shorts were almost indecent. 

The next thing you noticed was that he was young. Probably only a handful of years older than your twenty-one, definitely closer to your age than your mom’s.

God, why had you put this meeting off? Had you known your mom was married to an actual god, you would’ve actually visited.

“Hey, honey,” your mom greeted, smiling at him. Your stomach twisted as she leaned over, puckering her lips for a kiss. Osamu pecked her lips quickly and turned towards you.

“Hey, I’m Osamu,” he greeted, smiling widely at you. Your heart skipped. “I heard ya like umeboshi onigiri so I made you some.”

“Th-thank you,” you stuttered. “I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to finally meet ya,” Osamu said. “Was starting to think ya were avoiding me!”

“More like she was avoiding me,” your mom said. “She was always a daddy’s girl.”

“Oh?” Osamu asked, looking at you. Your cheeks burned. “Well, I’d never try to replace yer dad, but if ya ever need some daddy/daughter time, I’m here for ya.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something stupid. 

“I really appreciate that,” you said. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you two are getting along already!” Your mom squealed. She carried the takoyaki to the table and smiled as she sat down. “Dinner is finally ready.”

“Itadakimasu,” you mumbled, already loading your plate up with onigiri and the other food on the table. 

“So, how is university going?” Your mom asked. 

You shrugged as you slurped up some noodles. “It’s going. Made nationals.”

“Oh? What sport do ya play? I don’t think yer mom ever mentioned,” Osamu said. You rolled your eyes. Of course she hadn’t mentioned volleyball, it wasn’t like you’d been playing since elementary school or anything.

“Volleyball,” you said. “I was on the Niiyama girls team in high school. Hoping to go pro after uni.”

“Volleyball? I played in high school! My brother, Atsumu, and I were on the Inarizaki team,” Osamu exclaimed. 

“Not Miya Atsumu, right?” You asked, excitedly. “MSBY Black Jackals Miya Atsumu?”

“The very one!” Osamu said.

“No way! They’re my favourite team! I have a signed poster in my room, it’s my prized possession!” I exclaimed. “I heard a few members are going to the Olympics this year.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me she plays volleyball,” Osamu said, glancing at your mom.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” your mom said.

“We should go to a game sometimes,” Osamu said. “I can get an extra ticket to the MSBY, Adlers game later this week.”

“That sounds great!” You said, smiling widely.

Your mom ate in relative silence as you and Osamu traded stories about your volleyball times, only ever inputting something every once in a while. After dinner, Osamu found a Sendai Frogs match. 

“I’m currently in the nation’s top 3 setters,” you said, proudly. “I’m number two behind Takao Michi.”

“I’ll have to start coming to yer games,” Osamu said. “See ya in action.”

“I’d like that,” you said, honestly. 

“Why don’t ya come to work with me tomorrow? I can introduce ya to a few of my friends that are in town,” Osamu said.

“Absolutely,” you said.

“Don’t get me wrong though, I’m putting ya to work while yer there,” Osamu said. Your mom yawned.

“You all have me worn out from all this volleyball talk,” she said. “I’m going to bed.”

“Night, mom,” you said as she stood up.

“Osamu?” She questioned, turning back to glance at him.

“Oh, we’re going to stay up a bit longer,” he said. “The Schweinden Adlers have a match after the Frogs.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. You could hear the disappointment in her voice.

Osamu waited until you heard the bedroom door click shut before speaking.

“I know this is probably too much information about yer mom but she must think I’m some sex robot,” Osamu said, huffing. “A guy can only do so much.”

You crinkled your nose. “Gross, I did not need to know that.” You tried to hold steady but laughter bubbled up through your lips. Osamu laughed loudly and you joined him, holding your gut with how hard you were laughing.

“We need- we need to be- to be quiet!” Osamu laughed. “She’s trying to- tryin’ to sleep.”

You giggled a few more times before quieting down.

“So, how old are ya?” Osamu asked, standing up. “Old enough for a beer?”

“I’m twenty-one,” you said. “Old enough for a beer.”

“We got wine coolers if ya would rather have that,” Osamu said, stepping into the kitchen.

“Please,” you said. “So, how old are you? Can’t help but notice you’re quite a bit younger than my mom.”

“Twenty-five, twenty-six in October,” he said, grabbing a beer and a wine cooler out of the fridge.

“Follow up question,” you said, “and I don’t mean any offence, I’m sure she’s great in some ways, but why my mom? I mean, surely there’s no shortage of people your age that are wanting you.”

Osamu took a long drink from his beer before answering. “Ask me after I’ve drunk a few of these.”

You pursed your lips and took a sip of your fruity drink. “Fine,” you said. “Then let’s play a game. Every time the Adlers score, I’ll ask you a question and every time the Tachibana Red Falcons score, you get to ask me a question.”

“Deal,” Osamu said.

“Oh! Score!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up. “Another untouchable spike by Ushiwaka!”

“Shush, yer mom,” Osamu giggled. You rolled your eyes and chugged the rest of your fifth drink.

“You shush, it’s my turn,” you said, plopping down on the couch next to Osamu. “So, now tell me,” You hiccupped. “My bad. Now tell me, why my mom? Why not someone your age? Because I’m gonna- I’m gonna be honest, you’re hot and my mom is, like, she’s not, like, ugly, but, like, she’s, like, fifty.”

“I could just like cougars,” Osamu teased. You rolled your eyes and popped the top on your next drink.

“Tell the, the truth, ‘Samu,” you slurred. 

“Fine, but this stays between us, as best friends,” he said.

“Bee ef efs,” you slurred.

“Yer mom helped fund my restaurant,” he said. “So, I felt bad. She’s so nice and sweet. So, I married her.”

“Now you have a step kid that’s only four years younger than you,” you said. 

“Yeah, she didn’t really mention ya before we got married,” he said. Osamu leaned in close to you. “She didn’t mention how attractive ya were either.”

Your cheeks flushed. You turned your head away from him, looking back to the television.

“Oh, Falcons scored,” you said. “It’s your turn to ask a question.”

Osamu took a sip of his beer before speaking. “Why have ya been avoidin’ yer mom?”

You took a large gulp from your drink. “I haven’t been avoiding her,” you lied. Osamu blinked at you slowly. 

“Fine, fine!” You exclaimed. You sipped from your drink, then responded, “Mainly because she remarried so quickly after Dad died. And to someone only four years older than me. But we’ve never been close. She and I never really saw eye-to-eye. She was the love of my dad’s life and he was just another guy to her. Not to mention, she’s never been remotely interested in anything in my life, she’s always been so self-absorbed. I doubt she even knew I still played volleyball, that’s probably why she didn’t mention it to you.”

Osamu stayed silent as you chugged the remainder of your drink.

“I know it’s probably not comforting, but I’ll be there for ya if ya need me,” Osamu said. “Even if yer mom and I separate, I consider ya a friend now.”

Osamu’s words were oddly comforting. You nodded as you reached for yet another wine cooler. 

“I’m oddly comforted,” you said, popping the top easily. You fiddled with the top, thinking of what to say next.

“Another Falcons score,” Osamu said. “My turn again.”

“Question away,” you said. 

“Can’t think of any,” Osamu said. He yawned.

“Tired already?” You teased, elbowing him in the side. “Old man.”

“I’m twenty-five,” he argued, yawning again. “But I am going to bed. Let’s call a rain check on our game.”

“Deal,” you said, raising your bottle to him. “Might as well go to bed, too. Night, Samu.”

“Night, Y/n,” Osamu said, standing up. He stretched out before padding down the hallway to your mom’s room. 

You sighed loudly once you heard the door click shut. You gulped down your drink. “Good going, Y/n. You finally found a guy you like and he’s your stepdad.”

You finished your drink before gathering all the empty bottles and cans, throwing them in the recycling before walking towards your room. You collapsed onto your unmade bed and passed out before your head hit the pillow. 

“Two salted salmon onigiri,” you said, placing the plate in front of the professional volleyball player. “And onion soup.”

“Go ahead and join them,” Osamu said, placing a few plates on the same table. “I’ll bring you out some umeboshi onigiri.”

“Thanks,” you said. You could barely contain your excitement as you took a seat between Miya Atsumu and Bokuto Koutarou.

“So, yer a setter?” Atsumu asked, taking a bite of his onigiri. You nodded.

“Number two in the nation,” you said.

“She’s better than you were, Tsumu!” Hinata Shoyo exclaimed. You smiled widely.

“In high school, I was ranked number one under nineteen in my second and third years,” you said. “I even got to play in the junior Olympics in high school. We only won silver, though.”

“We’re playing the Olympics this year,” Bokuto said. “And a few of our friends from the Adlers.”

“Kageyama Tobio, Ushijima Wakatoshi, and Hoshimiumi Kourai?” You asked. “I’ve been keeping up with everyone considered for the Olympics.”

“Maybe you’ll be playing in the next Olympics,” Sakusa said. 

“That’s the goal,” you said, smiling. Osamu set a plate in front of you. “Thank you.”

“So our little star setter is here for the next week,” Osamu said, placing a strong hand on your shoulder. “We should play a game while she’s down, see how good she really is.”

“I’m game!” Bokuto exclaimed. “I wanna see those number two in the nation skills!”

“Probably nowhere near the level of you guys,” you said.

“We do have a few years on ya,” Atsumu said, ruffling your hair. 

“Literally only four,” you said, fixing your hair.

“Leave the kid alone, Tsumu,” Osamu said.

“Hey, she’s my niece now, I reserve the right to tease her,” Atsumu said.

“Uncle Tsumu,” you teased.

“That’s right, Uncle Tsumu and Daddy Samu,” Atsumu said. 

Your stomach flipped as the MSBY boys laughed. Osamu looked down at you and winked. You clenched your thighs together.

“All right, quiet down before ya disturb my payin’ guests,” Osamu said. 

“Lunch on Samu-kun!” Hinata exclaimed. Osamu rolled his eyes.

“Once yer finished, I want ya back in the kitchen,” Osamu said. He rubbed your back before walking into the kitchen.

“So, you plan on going professional after university?” Bokuto asked.

You nodded as the table fell into casual conversation.

“I already have offers to go play in France and Brazil,” you said, taking a bite of your onigiri.

“Brazil is fantastic,” Hinata said. “I played there for a while.”

“You liked it? I’ve been debating back and forth between the two. Can’t decide which one I would enjoy more,” you said. “Does Brazil have good food?”

“The best! Unless you’re looking for Japanese food,” Hinata said. “There’s no good Japanese food.”

“Noted,” you said, smiling.

“What are you studying in school?” Sakusa asked.

“Education,” you said. “If volleyball doesn’t work out I want to teach Japanese in another country.”

“Smart,” Sakusa said.

“So, any boyfriends? Girlfriends? Significant others?” Atsumu asked.

You laughed. “With what time?”

“Oh, come on, there has to be someone!” Atsumu exclaimed. “We all find time for a lil’ somethin’.”

“There was a girl,” you admitted. “On my volleyball team, but we both cared more about volleyball than each other.”

“Any crushes?” Bokuto asked. He winked at you and flexed his arms playfully.

You pursed your lips. “And why should I tell you if I do?”

“Because we’re all best friends now!” Hinata shouted, slamming his hand on the table. He ignored the looks from the other customers.

“There is this guy I have my eye on,” you said. “He’s tall, nice, and beefy as hell.”

“Ooo, tell us more,” Bokuto said.

You shook your head. “No use talking about him. He’s strictly off limits.”

“He’s gay,” Atsumu said, nodding his head.

“What?! No!” You laughed. “He’s taken.”

“Ah, university relationships aren’t always serious, you can probably still get him,” Hinata said, waving away your worries.

“He’s married,” you said. The boys all hissed in sympathy.

“Ask for a threesome,” Atsumu said. Your face must’ve shown your disgust because the boys all laughed at you.

“She must be ugly,” Bokuto said.

“We don’t get along the best,” you said. You sighed as you looked down at your empty plate.

“Better get to work before Daddy Samu grounds you,” Atsumu teased.

You rolled your eyes, but stood up. 

“It was nice meeting you guys,” you said. “I hope we can get a game together before I leave.”

“Oh, we definitely will,” Bokuto said.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you said, smiling. You waved bye to them as you entered the kitchen.

Osamu was leaned over the stove top, stirring a large pot of soup.

“Have fun?” He asked, wiping sweat off his brow with the towel thrown over his shoulder. You nodded.

“They were all super nice,” you said. “I feel like we’re actually friends now.”

“That’s good,” Osamu said, smiling at you. “Ya wanna start putting together a couple of onigiri?”

“No problem,” you said, washing your hands quickly. 

“We need five salted salmon and three umeboshi,” Osamu said. “And then out to table three.”

“Got it,” you said.

The rest of the day went by relatively quickly and smoothly. It was finally around midnight when the last customers finally left and you and Osamu could close down shop.

“Come into my office and I’ll show you how to count all the money,” Osamu said, locking the main doors. 

You followed him into his small office. 

“Okay, whenever you count the money, make sure the door is closed and locked behind you,” Osamu said, closing the door behind him. 

You held your breath as he slowly slid past you, your chest brushing against his.

“A lil’ cramped in here, sorry,” Osamu said, sitting at his desk.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, sitting in the folding chair next to him.

“So, d’ya have a good day?” Osamu asked, casually thumbing through bills.

You nodded. “It was good! It was nice meeting your friends. I really liked them.”

“Ooo, any of ‘em catch yer eye?” Osamu teased. You rolled your eyes.

“I already have my eye on someone,” you said.

“Oh?” Osamu questioned.

“He’s taken though,” you said. “Strictly off limits.”

“Ask for a threesome,” he said.

You laughed loudly. “Funny, Atsumu said the same thing. But no, I don’t get along with his wife.”

“Wife? That sucks,” he said, placing a wad of cash in an envelope. 

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Well, I, for one, think yer a catch,” Osamu said, sealing the envelope. “Anyone would be lucky to have ya.”

“Thanks, Samu,” you said, face burning. He patted your thigh.

“Anytime, princess,” Osamu said. You clenched your thighs together at the new nickname. “Well, we’re all done here, let’s get home.”

You trailed after him like a lost puppy as he double checked all the appliances were off and flipping the lights off.

You shivered as you stepped into the cool, night air. 

“Cold?” Osamu asked, already peeling off his Onigiri Miya hoodie.

“Yeah, a little,” you said, gladly taking the hoodie from him. You tugged it over your head and breathed deeply. “Smells good. Half expected it to smell like onigiri.”

“It will soon,” Osamu said, smiling. “It’s new. Just got the shipment in last week.”

“I’ll have to get one,” you said.

“Keep it,” Osamu said. “Ya look cute in it.”

You blushed deeply. You bumped his shoulder with yours gently.

“It’s like, way too big,” you said.

Osamu shrugged. “Oversized is in. Besides, I thought girls loved to steal guys’ hoodies.”

“Yeah, guys they like,” you said.

“Well, ya took it from me,” Osamu said, bumping your shoulder. “Ya must like me a little.”

“Whatever,” you said, cheeks burning. Osamu laughed.

“Someone has a crush!” He sang.

“Shut up! I don’t have a crush on you,” you said.

“Ya did call me hot last night,” he said.

“I was drunk, so it doesn’t count,” you said. He rolled his eyes obnoxiously.

“Ya have a crush on me, just admit it,” Osamu said. “I won’t tell anyone, pinky promise.”

“You’re my stepdad, in case you forgot,” you replied. “That’s basically incest, isn’t it?”

“So ya admit it?” Osamu asked. You shoved him playfully.

“I actually have a crush on Atsumu,” you said. “He’s the hotter twin.”

Osamu pushed you into an alley and caged you against the cool bricks of a building.

“Oh?” Osamu said. “Ya think Atsumu is the hotter twin?”

You nodded slowly as Osamu looked down at you.

“It’s the hair,” you squeaked.

“Oh, yeah, forgot that girls love a guy who doesn’t know what toner is,” Osamu said, leaning down. “I think yer lying.” His nose was nearly touching yours.

“I’m not,” you mumbled. Osamu’s hands moved from either side of your head to your hips. 

“You are,” Osamu whispered, lips brushing against your ear. You shivered.

“And if I am?” You asked.

“I don’t like bad girls,” Osamu said. “Lying is grounds for punishment.”

“Punishment?” You asked.

“I’d bend ya over my knee and spank ya until ya begged for mercy,” he said. You sucked in a sharp breath.

“It’s a good thing I’m not lying, then,” you said. By now, Osamu’s lips were nearly against yours, so close you could feel the heat from his breath on your lips.

Osamu ground his hips against yours, firmly pressing his hard on against you.

You bit your lip and glanced down. His cock was straining against his jeans, eager to be released.

“Tell the truth and I’ll think about not putting ya over my knee,” Osamu said, lips softly brushing against yours. 

“You’re the hotter twin,” you said, putting your arms around his neck. “And I have a crush on you. And I want you to fuck me in this alley.”

“There we go,” Osamu said. He finally kissed you roughly, like he wanted to devour you. You moaned as he ground against you.

“Samu,” you moaned, pulling back. He wasted no time, kissing down your neck, sucking and biting at your sensitive skin.

“Been thinkin’ about pushin’ this lil’ skirt up all day,” he growled, pushing your skirt up around your waist, revealing the pretty pink lace of your underwear. 

“Please,” you gasped as he shoved his jeans and underwear down, releasing his cock. You nearly moaned at the sight of it, long and thick and leaking precum from the swollen tip.

“Gonna wreck this cute little cunt,” Osamu said, tugging your underwear down and letting them fall to the ground. He dragged the tip of his cock through your wet folds, teasing your clit and hole.

“Is- Is that a piercing I feel?” You asked, feeling cool metal against your warm folds.

“I’ll give ya a closer look later,” he said, teasingly pushing the tip in and out of your hole. “Wanna be in ya now.”

“Fill me up, please, Samu,” you begged, digging your fingernails into his skin. Your walls fluttered around nothing as he lifted you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Good girl,” he muttered, lining his cock up with your hole. “Beg for my cock, princess.”

“Please, please, please!” You cried. “Want your cock in me, need it! Please, Samu, want you to fill me up.”

“Of course, baby girl, anything for my princess,” Osamu said, kissing you softly. He rutted his hips up into you, stretching you out suddenly.

You moaned loudly and let your head fall on Osamu's broad shoulder. 

“So big,” you moaned. “Hurts.”

“Shh, shh, yer takin’ me so well, baby,” Osamu said. “Squeezin’ me so tight, wanna bust just bein’ in ya.”

You whimpered as Osamu slowly pulled out. He pushed back in slowly, giving you time to adjust to each inch. Your walls clenched around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper until the swollen tip was kissing your cervix.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Gonna ruin ya.” Osamu pulled out until just the tip was in and slammed back into you.

You gasped loudly as his cock breached your cervix, going deeper than anything had ever been in you and stretching you more than anything ever had.

“Samu!” You cried, throwing your head back and digging your nails into the nape of his neck. “Fuck, harder, please!”

“Feel that, baby? I’m so deep in ya,” Osamu said. “Fuckin’ past your cervix, yeah?”

You nodded as you bit back your moans as Osamu pounded into you. You buried your head into his shoulder and bit down, quieting your too loud moans.

“Next time, ‘m gonna have ya somewhere ya can be loud as ya want,” Osamu grunted. “Wanna hear yer pretty, little moans.”

You let out a soft moan in his ear and he snapped his hips up harder into you.

“Ah, Samu,” you moaned, struggling to keep your volume down. “Gonna cum.”

He pinched your clit as you gushed around his cock. You looked down to where your bodies met and watched as your juices leaked down his cock, dripping on his heavy balls. You moaned.

“Gonna fill ya up, baby,” he growled lowly. “Come ‘ere.”

He pulled your head up by your hair and squeezed your cheeks until your mouth fell open, tongue lolling out. He gathered spit in his mouth and spat it on your waiting tongue.

“Don’t swallow,” he said. He kissed you deeply, licking into your mouth and sucking your tongue. He kissed you messily, spit running down your chin and a thin strand of it connecting you two when he finally pulled back. 

“Such a messy, little slut,” he said, slamming his hips against yours. “Taking my spit so well. Gonna take my cum like that?”

You nodded, unable to speak beyond gasps and moans as his cock abused your cunt.

“Can’t speak? Fucked ya dumb, huh?” Osamu asked. He chuckled. “My cock makin’ ya dumb, little baby?”

You whined. God, you wanted him to fill you up so bad. 

“Cum. Inside.” You gasped out.

“Oh? Want me t’ breed ya? Make ya big and swollen with my baby?” Osamu asked, hips moving faster.

You nodded furiously. He rubbed your clit in tight, fast circles.

“Cream ‘round my cock one more time, baby,” he grunted. 

“Samu!” You exclaimed. Your stomach tightened as your walls fluttered like crazy.

“Yeah? Gonna cum again for me?” Osamu asked. You let out a high pitched moan as the coil in your stomach snapped.

“Fill me up, please!” You moaned as you came. Osamu’s hips stuttered as he pushed into you deeply before painting your womb white. You cried out, letting your head rest against his shoulder as he moaned.

“Fuck, yer still so tight around my cock,” he hissed. Your walls fluttered. “Perfect little cunt, princess. Milkin’ me dry like a good girl.”

You whimpered as he slowly pulled out. Your legs went limp, falling from his waist.

“Can’t stand,” you mumbled, legs shaking with the weak attempt you made. Osamu held you up as he pulled his pants back up and pulled your panties back on.

“Come here, baby,” he said, swooping you up bridal style. “Let’s go home, princess.”

You nodded lamely as he carried you. You must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing you heard was Osamu talking to your mother.

“She was practically dead on her feet,” Osamu said. “Fell asleep while I was counting the money.”

“You could’ve called, I would’ve brought the car,” your mom said. You felt Osamu shrug.

“It was no problem,” Osamu said. 

“Well, go lay her down in her bed,” your mom said. “Then maybe she’ll be out for the rest of the night.” You frowned at her suggestive tone and cuddled deeper into Osamu’s chest.

“I’ll go lay her down,” Osamu said. He carried you down the hall and entered your bedroom carefully.

As he laid you down, you grabbed his arm and whined, “Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. “I gotta go to my own bed.”

“Don’t- Don’t fuck her,” you mumbled. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, princess,” he said, softly brushing your hair out of your face. “It’s only you from now on.” You nodded. Osamu kissed your forehead before leaving you alone.

You blinked once, twice, before you were asleep.

[miekasa]

bad romance

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genres and warnings: friends with benefits au, friends to lovers au (well i guess that’s open for interpretation lmao), modern au—college au?, explicit smut, mentioned/implied virginity

+ summary: friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school is probably a bad idea. friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school who you’ve also been in love with for the past seven years—all for the purpose of her gaining ‘experience’ so she’s not nervous to do it with some other guy she has a crush on—is probably a really bad idea. levi ackerman is not known to make great decisions.

+ word count: 3.5k

+ notes: truth be told, i don’t even know if i like this; i took this from an outline/draft of a series i’d planned but know i’ll never complete. it’s kind of unedited too heh, also if you’re a minor pls do not interact 

Levi doesn’t think anything of it when he finds you on his doorstep on a rainy Saturday evening. It’s very much like you to show up unannounced and attempt to drag him into whatever activity you want to do that day. He’s fairly certain that Hange picked that up from you. Someone should tell her that it doesn’t work so well unless it’s you tugging on his arm sleeve and interrupting his otherwise peaceful evening. 

So, for a while, everything is normal. You make fun of him for his use of, admittedly overpriced, organic butter when he toasts you a bagel; he makes jabs at you shuffling around his apartment like a semi-wet chihuahua, and all is right with the world.

Until it’s not. Because half-way into whatever stand-up comedy Netflix special you’d persuaded him into watching with you, Levi’s had enough of your nervous ticking. He doesn’t know if you think that he wouldn’t notice, but he does. And he knows it’s not the result of you still being wet or cold from the rain, seeing as you’ve long since dried off and warmed up. 

You’re focused on the show (ironically, focused to a point of distraction), you’ve been twiddling your fingers since it started, and you’ve been fidgety since you stepped foot into his house. Quite frankly, he finds it insulting that you think he wouldn’t know something’s up by now.

So, he bends his knee, turns his body towards yours, lifts his elbow to rest atop the edge of the soft, and presses his cheek into his palm: “Alright, spit it out.”

“Huh?—What do you mean?” You look at him with wide, startled eyes. He looks back at you with unamused, expecting ones.

You crack a nervous smile, attempting to laugh off his command as incredulous, but instead, your voice comes out in what sounds like a pathetic attempt to cover up a lie—probably because it is, “What? Can’t I spend sometime with my favorite, surly psychology student?”

Levi scoffs at your batting eyelashes. The look he throws you seems to do the trick as you drop your facade with a sigh and shift yourself to face him on the couch too, your bent knees almost touching.

“Alright, fine, you got me,” you sigh, hands resting in your lap, “You, um... you know how you said you’d help me with, like, uh... sex and stuff?”

Levi raises an eyebrow. Of course he does. He watches as your eyes dart around the room waiting for his response. It’s cute as heck, and if the topic of conversation at hand weren’t about to get so compromising, he’d have probably teased you about it.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well… okay, so, you remember Jean, right? The guy I told you about?”

Levi hums. Yeah, he remembers Jean, but only because you can’t seem to shutup about him, not because he’s particularly memorable otherwise. He seems to be kind of a prick and a huge idiot, if you asked Levi; but, that’s kind of his default impression of most people. 

“Jean and I hung out yesterday, and it was normal, you know? We just talked and ordered food and watched a movie,” you rub your palms along the fabric of your yoga pants—another nervous tick he’s been observing, “I don’t know if it was a date or not, because he didn’t say it was, and I don’t want to assume, but Marco keeps saying it was, and that Jean wants to actually ask me out.”

Levi blinks. “And?”

“And if he does ask me out—or even if he just… I don’t know, wants to try something the next time we hang out, I don’t want to look like a complete idiot!”

He refrains from letting a noticeable grimace take over his features; and washes away the unsettling feeling in his stomach with a nonchalant comment, “I doubt he’ll try anything on your first date.”

“But what if it’s not a date! People hang out just to hook up all the time.”

“I thought you wanted to date him?” Levi questions, but his it comes out as more of a deadpan statement.

“I do,” you answer, your response a little delayed and drawn out, “But, I wouldn’t mind just sleeping with him, either.”

“Bold statement from someone who’s never slept with anyone before.”

“Have I told you today that you’re an asshole?” you roll your eyes at him, “Come on, Levi, you know what it’s like to just want someone, but not want them, don’t you? You’ve had one night stands before.”

That’s true, Levi knows it, but it’s different. He wasn’t actively seeking advice from his friends about how to pursue and potentially please his one night stands because none of that mattered—well, the pleasing part, probably, but not the pursuit, or the feelings that came with it. Besides, Levi hasn’t felt the desire for any of that in a long time.

“That’s not the same,” he responds, trying to dismiss the muddy feelings crawling up his throat, “Look, if your Jean guy gets horny when you’re hanging out, just make out with him—make him jizz his pants or something.”

“That’s terrible advice,” you frown, “Plus, he’s probably done that with a million other girls.”

“Probably. Sex tends to repeat a few basic actions here and there.”

“For a psychology student, you sure are a terrible makeshift therapist, do you know that?”

“That’s not even the kind of psychology I study, never mind that I never asked to be your therapist.”

Levi takes great amusement in your huffing and the frustrated pout settling into your features, though he does his best to not let his own smile shine through. It’s probably futile; you can probably see through his facade, anyways.

“I just don’t want to bore him, Levi.”

Any trace of his smile vanishes as those words leave your mouth. Levi doesn’t retain much about this Jean guy you keep going on about, and he doesn’t care to in all honesty—but maybe if he did, he could understand why you’re so hellbent on pleasing the kid.

Levi doesn’t like it, not one single bit. His own feelings for you aside, he doesn’t like how Jean has managed to worm his way into your head and make you think that he’s deserving of any kind of affection from you, whether it be platonic, romantic, or sexual. Because he isn’t; Levi might not know him, but he knows that much. 

Still, he sympathizes with you. He understands the pressure of navigating dating and hookup culture, especially in a university setting; never mind the additional expectations set on you as a girl. It’s shitty, all of it; the stupid feelings, the sense of uncertainty, the dumb-ass college pricks. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of that. 

“You won’t,” is Levi’s simpler response, “Just don’t crush his dick in the process.”

“I wouldn’t do that, fuck you.”

“I’m just saying, you’ve never been the most coordinated person in the world,” he taunts, “If that’s what you came here today to ask me to help you with, it’s fine.”

“Really?—I mean, okay, I know we said that’s okay, and stuff, but I didn’t know if—well I don’t know what’s on the table or not? I do want to do that with you, but I also wanted to know if we could do… more? But I didn’t want to ask for too much and make you uncomfortable! Do we need a lesson-plan of sorts, because I can make—”

“You’re doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“Stalling,” Levi tells you, “You know, how when you get all nervous and ramble, then run out of breath or things to say, then get super quiet, and let the conversation die and be awkward again.”

You throw daggers his way with your eyes, and Levi has the audacity to smirk. “Forgive me, it’s not every day I ask my best friend if I can suck his dick for practice.”

“You can,” Levi replies, a little too nonchalant for the situation at hand, “If you want. I don’t mind. As for a lesson plan, that’s weird as shit, so don’t do that.”

“Really? I can?” you question again, an ironic child-like glimmer of joy in your eyes.

Levi chuckles lowly at your enthusiasm—your appreciation is so genuine, he finds it nothing short of adorable. And oddly enough, he’s a little turned on by it, too.

“Yeah,” he nods his head shallowly, “You can.”

You still have that gleam in your eyes, but Levi can feel the hesitation creeping up on you, and offers his guidance before he loses you to a shell of yourself. He shifts over to you just a bit, loosely holding your right wrist in his grip; holding eye-contact, he carefully pulls you up to stand in front of him.

“You can start,” he says, slowly tugging on your wrist, “By getting on your knees and taking off my pants.”

By the time he’s finished speaking, you’re already kneeling in front of him, and the sight is already enough to have Levi semi-hard in his pants; an almost embarrassed flush washing over his body as he comes to terms with the fact that he’s thought about this visual more times than he cares to ever admit.

You fumble with the zipper of his jeans, pulling them, along with his boxers to pool around his ankles. Your actions are careful and calculated, but you seem comfortable—maybe not with your skills, but with Levi.

His eyes stay glued on you, when you finally hold his length with a single hand, the other resting hot on his thigh. He leans over again, this time to rest a comforting hand on the back of your neck, eager to wash away any remains of your nervous resolve.

“Start slow,” he instructs, feeling your thumb swipe along the head, “Just move your hand up and down a bit, like—ah, yeah, like that.”

You seem follow his words carefully, focusing on the way his dick jerks in your hand. Levi observes you carefully and mentally notes that while he’d have liked it, not making out with you before this was probably the right call—he’d probably have creamed his jeans before this could have begun.

“You can grip it harder,” he tells you. You listen, applying slightly more pressure to your grasp; and it makes Levi groan, short, but strangled, above you.

“Okay?” you question, the genuine concern in your voice enough to make Levi’s gaze soften.

“Yeah, that’s—you’re doing good,” he says, rubbing his thumb against the nape of your neck habitually, “Twist your hand a little when you go up, you can—fuck, okay, yeah, that, like that.”

You snap your head up to look at him when he lets a moan slip through; nothing but pure enthusiasm and satisfaction dancing in your eyes. Levi grits his teeth when you do it again, your thumb sliding over the tip when you reach the top of his dick, and, Christ, you’ve got to stop looking at him like that.

You work your way into a steady rhythm, letting Levi’s moans guide your movements. You feel him harden to full length under your touch; and when he does, you move your hand faster, twisting your wrist around the length and squeezing just a pinch harder at the tip, without instruction.

He watches through lidded eyes, using his thumb to press lightly into the back of your neck. You move your free hand from his thighs, eager to add it to the mix, but Levi freezes.

“Nuh uh,” he shakes his head.

It prompts you to stop your actions, tilt your head and look up at him, and Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so sinful. Your complete focus on him, neck craned obediently, eyes twinkling under your lashes; your position makes him want to kiss you or choke you or something in between.

“What—did I do something wrong?” you ask with wide and innocent eyes that make Levi feel bad for worrying you, yet send an erotic pulse throughout his body.

“Not at all,” he reassures you, fingers treading into the hair at your nape.

He’s setting himself up for failure, and he knows it, too—because, really, who agrees to teach a friend how to suck dick? Having you on your knees in front him, crane into his touch, and keen to all his desires, does nothing to mask the painful fire in the pit of his stomach.

It’s stupid to be this hungry, this possessive over you when he knows you come to him in hopes to learning how to please another man. But one, precious thought is enough to cloud over all of that, enough to put that sadistic smirk back on his face.

“You said you wanted to give me a blowjob, right?” he questions, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at the shallow nod of your head, “Okay. Open your mouth for me, yeah?”

He barely pushes the tip past your lips when your head dips forward, tongue peeking out to lick the very top. Levi sucks in sharp air between his teeth, relaxing into the couch when your head bobs further, enclosing the tip of his dick in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice hoarse when his hardened cock rests against the velvet wet of your tongue, “That’s it—just keep going, like that.”

He watches intensely as your head bobs onto him. It’s hot and wet and so much more than he’d imagined it would be; and he’s not too shy to admit he’s imagined this with you. He moves his hand to brush away the flyaways of your hair, smoothing them back and tangling his fingers at the back of your head. He carefully guides your movements.

It’s slow and steady, and normally, it’d take him a while to cum like this, but with the visual of having you on your knees for him, Levi can feel a faint warmth of his orgasm already beginning to bubble inside of him.

“This is okay, right?” you pull back, a thin line of spit trailing from your mouth.

“Yes, yes,” he answers immediately, unaware of his tightening grasp on your hair.

With a shy smile, you continue, taking more of him this time and carefully gauging his reactions. You move your head further down, testing your own limits, until you feel like you’re choking. You pull back again, with an embarrassed cough.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says softly, rubbing soothing circles into your neck with his fingers, “Guys can’t actually tell the difference between a regular blowjob and being deep throated, no need to choke yourself.”

“Wait, really?” you ask, resting you bum against your heels.

“You seem so surprised.”

“That’s just so… disappointing,” you crinkle your nose, “Men and porn make deep-throating seem like the end all be all of giving head.”

Levi chuckles in genuine amusement, “Well, it’s not, trust me. If any guy insists on being deep-throated just to cum, he’s a fucking liar. He’s getting off on the submission, not the actual feeling.”

“The submission?”

“Getting someone to be willing to listen to them, telling them what to do, how to please them,” he shrugs, “Makes you feel like you’re in control.”

“And that… that works?”

“Yeah,” Levi says, “But, judging by the tone of your voice, and how willing you were to suck my dick three seconds ago, I’d say the idea of being dominant doesn’t really appeal to you.”

You scrunch your nose again, “Does it appeal to you?”

Levi pauses, thinking over his answer, before giving you a simple, “Yeah. Most of the time.”

“Oh,” you hum, “I… I don’t think I’d like that.  I think I’d rather be told what to do, seeing as I don’t really know what I’m doing, anyways.”

“Ironic, considering you’ve never once listened anything I tell you do.”

“I was listening when you told me how to suck your dick,” you correct him, “You seemed to enjoy that.”

Levi pauses with a raised eyebrow. You don’t seem to back down, that matter-of-fact smirk on your face still mocking him. He leans over slowly, using his right hand to guide your head closer to him, and uses his left hand to grab your jaw between his fingers.

“You can be such a fucking brat, you know that,” he all but whispers, pursing your lips together in his hold, “Since you like listening to me so much, then shut up, and we can finish what you started.”

You blink, staring at him with a wide-eyed expression. He’s right that under any other circumstance you’d probably run your mouth off about him telling you what to do. But something about the way he knows what he wants and tells how he wants it makes you listen without an argument.

You nod, slowly wrapping your lips around the tip again, and bobbing along his length. Levi’s breath hitches when you hollow your cheeks slightly, a rough hand pressing down on the back of your neck.

“You’re really—god, okay, you’re good at this, you know,” Levi praises you, letting his right hand resume its position at the back of your neck.

If you had any doubts before about being submissive, the look on Levi’s face seemed to have wiped them away. Watching him throw his head back, his fingers gripping at your nape, his cock in your mouth—pleasing him seemed to be enough to please you, too.

“I wanna make you cum, Levi,” you voice your thoughts, letting a hand lazily jerk him off in the mean time, “Tell me what I have to do to make you cum.”

“If you keep going, I’ll cum,” he answers too quickly, a groan slipping through his words, “Trust me.”

“Come on, Levi,” you push, rolling your thumb over the slit of his dick. It makes him inhale sharply; you’re getting a little too good at that; at all of this. “Can—I mean, do you wanna cum in my mouth?”

“Shit, shit. Don’t say shit like that,” he curses, blunt nails raking and scraping at your scalp, “You don’t have to—I can just—”

“I want you to,” you tell him earnestly, “Please?”

Fuck, he was pretty fucking certain he’d told you to stop saying shit like that. Levi bites the inside of his cheek, paces himself; uses both of his hands to hold your head gently, while you use yours to wrap around his cock.

He grunts with a shake, and rolls his hips up, pushing himself further into your mouth, but not so much as to hurt you. It’s soon after that hot strophes of cum wet your tongue, and Levi lets you lazily jerk him off until you’ve milked his orgasm.

The room is silent save for his low moans and the squeaking of his thighs against the leather couch. When he’s finished, he slouches back, looking at you through hooded eyes, sweaty and panting, when you close your mouth and swallow.

You use your fingers to collect any remaining cum from his softening cock, and hum contented as you put your fingers in your mouth. Levi locks eyes with you again, cheeks flushed as you pull your digits out of your mouth, and he has to grip at his own thigh to gain the self-control to not get hard again.

You’re going to be the fucking death of him some day.

He shakes his head when you move backwards with a cute smile and pulls his boxers up, then his pants as best his can, not bothering to zip them up. When he’s done, you stand to your feet then straddle him on the couch, laughing lowly at his post-orgasm haze.

He doesn’t think twice about the way your hands clasp at the back of his neck, or the way his find their way to rest on your hips. You grab ahold of his jaw with both hands, holding his face in place. He thinks you’re going to lean in, but you don’t; just stay like that, your eyes roaming his glassy eyes.

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me all day?” he questions, lips pulled into a knowing grin.

“Can I?” your question makes him frown in confusion, “Dunno, I heard some guys don’t like that after getting head.”

“Bunch a fuckin pussies,” he grumbles, leaning forward to close the gap between your mouths. He can feel you smile into it, and mimics your grin when you begin to press short, repeated kisses against his lips.

“You’re the best, you know that?”

He laughs when you continue to press quick kisses on his lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

You kiss him on the cheek, wet and dramatic. “Love you, Levi.”

Your face is right in front of his, but he averts his gaze, a different kind go warmth spreading throughout his chest when you flash a smile at him. He lets you kiss him again, longer this time, but still slow and sweet. He likes the feeling of you resting against him, affection lingering on your tongue when you kiss him.

It’s dangerous, but he likes the way you spark a fire in him. Sweet or sinful, it makes him feel boneless, wanted, loved.

Levi leans forward, rubbing his hands up your sides, and captures your lips in another languid kiss before pulling away to peck the corner of your mouth. “Love you, too.”

And he means it of course, but if Levi thought he had it bad before, he’s in deep shit now.

[blatantlyright]

Goodnight from Cornwall

Tom x Reader

Day 22 of Kinktober

Tw/tags: language, discussion of p in v/cunnilingus, masturbation, cigarette smoking

18+

Minors DNI or I’ll kick you

~~~~~

You hadn’t seen Tom in three months. He was working, and he wouldn’t be back in town for another two months. You’d love to go see him, hell you’d even move in, but after his last girlfriend Ruth ended things how she did, Tom was too afraid of that just yet. You accepted the few visits a year. You knew one day, you’d wake up next to each other and the loneliness would have been worth it. He called you on his lunch break every single day, and you had dinner together over the phone each evening.

Lately you had been feeling particularly lonely. Masturbating before you fell asleep could only be so fulfilling. You decided after dinner tonight, you would tell Tom just what you wanted and how much you missed his touch.

Tom made himself some chicken with sautéed vegetables and a baked potato. You had just finished your shrimp pasta. You stepped out on your balcony for a cigarette, Tom held up to your ear. “I miss you,” you pouted. “I miss you too, love. It won’t be long now before I’m there with you.” His voice was warm and comforting. It was also turning you on, more than usual.

“Do you ever think about me when you’re falling asleep?”, you asked. Tom laughed softly. “I think about you all of the time,” he answered. You racked your brain for a way to directly ask what you intended, without coming off brash. “Sometimes I think about you when I am going to sleep and it keeps me up a bit,” you confessed. “What is it, the ?”, he asked.

Your heart pounded in your chest. “I remember what it feels like when you make love to me and then I cannot rest until I…” you voice shook as you tried to decide how to word it. “Oh, sweetie, I think about making love to you all the time. It’s in my dreams,” he smiled. “Your body in my hands, your soft lips around me, I think about it constantly.” Your core throbbed as you thought about his hands resting on your hips.

You butted out your cigarette and stepped back into your bedroom, closing the door to the balcony behind you. “Do you touch yourself for me?”, Tom asked. His voice was suddenly rugged and breathy. “Just about every day,” you whisper. Suddenly you’re flushed as your hand moves up your shirt to lazily brush against your nipple. You can hear that his breathing has changed. “Do you ever think about me, in that way, when you’re alone?”, you asked. A short moan fell from your lips as you pinched at your stiffening nipple.

“All the time. I imagine you on top of one of the pinball machines at work, your gorgeous thighs separated for me. Fuck, and how wet your cunt always gets when we kiss.” His statement was followed by a series of moans and growls. “What would you do with me if I were there?”, he asks. “I’d pull off your shirt,” you purred, “and rub my lips across your neck.” Tom’s breath slowed. “Yes? And then?” Your other hand slid quickly to part your folds and tease at your swelling bundle of nerves. You drug your finger tip over your dripping hole, then back to your clit.

“Mm-I’d lie you down on your back and spread myself open over your mouth,” you moaned. Tom’s phone rapidly smacked against his face, the movement of his arms speeding up. “Fuck yes, and I’d nuzzle my tongue right onto that sweet little clit,” he moaned, “and lick you slow and deep until you rain down into my mouth, squeezing your thighs so you can’t leave your perch atop me.”

“Fuck, Tom, I’m so close,” you whined. “Then,” he breathed, “I’d roll you to your back and pull your ankles up to my shoulders and slide inside you.”

“Yes, shit, Tom I’d love to be full of your fat cock right now. I want you so bad.” You lick a puddle into your fingers, rubbing it down mixing your slick and your spit. Your fingers press and shake around and over and back. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming all over your fucking dick,” you scream just before a familiar groan comes from Tom. “Ah, I’m fucking spraying your pretty little cunt with my cum,” Tom shouted.

Heavy breaths were the only conversation exchanged until Tom offered a sleepy chuckle. “I miss you,” he grinned. “I miss you more,” you panted.

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

[cathey-winchester-666]

Mikey x Mechanic!Reader

Summary: A list of headcanons about Mikey's relationship with his mechanic. Gn!Reader (I didn't bother to read through, please let me know if I messed up the pronouns!!)

Warnings: Swearing, some violence, mentions of kidnapping??? (but it's just a joke), reader is a badass

How you first meet:

The first time you two meet, it is because he's somehow managed to damage his bike.

Like, to the point where all of the mechanics he goes to are like:

"Dude, this is unfixable"

"There's nothing I can do to help you now"

"I'm afraid you're just going to have to buy a new one"

And he' getting increasingly frustrated, but still refuses to give up

But then, one of them goes:

"Hey, I might know someone that can help"

And they give the address of this small, rundown shop in the middle of nowhere

At first they think it's deserted and they're ready to go back to that mechanic and give them a piece of their mind

But then the sound of a long string of cuss words comes from within

So Mickey and Draken go in further to investigate and find you,

Stuck head first inside the bonnet of the car

And they're both thinking:

"Seriously, this is the one supposed to help us."

But then they pull you out of the engine and turn you to face the bike, explaining the hopeless situation

You take one look and go:

"Yup! Sounds like challenge!"

And instantly get to work

Whilst working:

During the time that you're spent fixing the bike, Mikey is a constant visitor

And it hits a point where you hear footsteps and, without even looking up, you instantly go:

"No Mikey, I already told you, the bike isn't ready yet."

But the footsteps don't stop

And now all 5 feet of his badass blonde hair is breathing on your collarbone

"Mikey, I can't concentrate with you breathing down my neck like that."

"Right, sorry."

And he pulls away.

But only a little bit.

And now he's breathing on the back of your shoulder.

"Mikey!"

"Alright! Alright!"

He pulls away and goes to sit down on a stool so he can watch you work

His dark eyes follow every little move you make

He flinches every time the bike makes a sound it doesn't usually

And you have to sigh and reassure him that everything is fine

Constantly explaining what you're doing as you're working

Without even realising you're using smart engineering language that he doesn't even remotely understand

but he listens anyway because he's starting to like the sound of your voice

Sometimes Draken will come over and you'll get to use your proper engineering language because he's able to keep up with what you're saying

You'll also sometimes teach him some new stuff he didn't know before

He also helps out with the stuff that he does understand, so the process goes a lot faster

Mikey sits there all jealous because you two are getting along so well and you're really enthusiastic about whatever it is that you're talking about that he doesn't understand

He wants to stop you two but he also can't get involved in the conversation because he has no idea what you're talking about and he's trying to hide he's obvious jealousy

Draken 100% knows

Some nights, Mikey even stays at the workshop with you

There's a small couch in the corner of the garage that he sleeps on

You used to have to call Draken to come pick him up

Now, you just throw a spare blanket over his exhausted form

One night, you even brushed a piece of blond hair away from his face and his nose scrunched up very cutely before he leaned in slightly to your touch

Cue you having an absolute seizure over how cute this man is when he's all relaxed and passed out

Anywho

Whilst fixing the bike, there would definitely be moments when he would hop up and lean over your working space

You would look at him

Give a small smile and ask

"Do you want to give it a go?"

Cue the biggest, brightest, happiest smile on his face as he enthusiastically picks up the closest tool on hand

Which is often not even remotely the right one

And you fall even further as you try to explain, in the most basic terms humanly possible, how to go about fixing this area of the bike

When trouble comes a-knocking:

Being affiliated with the leader of the Toman gang

Trouble is naturally going to find you

Especially when news gets out that you're the only one capable of fixing the leader's most precious and prized possession

His bike

Luckily for you, you're a certified badass

The first group that came in looking for trouble was a rather small one

However, you know the kind of neighbourhood you live in

And you always do research on your clients so you know what you're getting yourself into

You knew this would happen

And you came prepared. ;)

So when they first rocked up at your door

You came at them, all guns blazing

You ever seen Home Alone (if not, I totally recommend)

Well, it was basically like that

T R A P S

All the classics

Hot iron in the face

Marbles and nails on the floor

Paint can to the head

Glue and feathers

And then the more deadly ones

Kerosene, oil or petrol (you work in a garage my dudes, there's never a short supply) and then once they're soaked, an innocent match has them screaming to get away

For this next one, you need a layout of the building

There is a second level, which is all but busted and destroyed, you've laid out planks along the ground of the second level and you know which parts are safe

Through the holes in the floor, you can drop all sorts of things

Hammers

Poles

Wrenches

Rats and mice

Childhood trauma

You name it

And if anyone makes it to the second level, chances are, they'll end up falling through the floor

If they realise where it is safe to stand, keep in mind, you're super ripped from working machinery all day every day

And you've been practicing where it's safe to stand on this roof for a fight for as long as you can remember

Moving up there is second nature to you, an instinct, if you will

But it's all completely new to them

And, if I hadn't mentioned it before, you're a badass

So, by the time Mikey and his crew rock up at the garage, ready to take on a small army,

You've already got the entire enemy gang on the floor crying and begging for mercy whilst you stand over them, confidently swinging a mallet with a menacing grin on your face

And Mikey finds himself falling for you, just that little bit more

Once the bike is finished:

Once you've finally finished the bike

Mikey is instantly at your side

And you take a step back as he slowly examines every little section of the bike

And he's in awe

Not just because it's a spitting image of the real thing

But because it still has all the memories

The scratch from when he and Draken thought it was a good idea to attempt riding in the forest

That one time he tried to flirt with a lady by leaning on his bike, and inevitably knocked it over

All those little things

And you'd managed to keep them

"THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK-"

God, it takes forever to finally shut him up

"So, how much do I owe you?"

You'd thought about your answer to this for a while and finally come to the conclusion of what you really wanted out of this

"Well that depends, how much are you willing to pay?"

"Anything. You can't put a price on this bike, I assure you."

"Well in that case."

With a final deep breath, you place a hand on your hip and cock it, pointing a finger at Mikey's face

"I'd like to work as your gang's permanent mechanic!"

His reply startles you

"You heard them, Pah-chin, the kidnapping is off."

There's an audible sigh from behind you and the mentioned male slumps out from the shadows, a felt bag and some rope in hand

"... and this is???"

You turn to ask Mikey

"Well it was going to be a kidnapping."

A dejected Pah-chin answers for the blonde

Bitch, I beg your pardon, it was going to be a what now

"You were planning to KiDnAp mE???"

"Welcome to Toman!"

He cheers as he wheels his fixed bike out of the shop

"THAT DOESN'T ANSWER MY QUESTION!"

[weepinglevi]

summary: fem!reader and porco get it on in the bathroom. porco has his phone to document everything for colt, who is reader's boyfriend. all aged up to be 21+. warnings: 18+ minors dni. infidelity! semi-public sex, slight dacryphilia, heavy dirty talk, mirror sex, creampie - reader doesn't know he's filming at first but is okay with it. also poor colt :( word count: around 1.6k beta reader: the most wonderful @1252291 came through. love you to the moon and back. <3 A/N: contribution to my adult movie tropes collab! pock brainrot is strong with this one. i hope you enjoy and feedback is always greatly appreciated. take care and lots of love. xx

you know it’s wrong.

the moment he closes the door behind him and turns the key, you’re torn between wanting to push him away and pulling him in even closer. leaning against the cold porcelain of the sink, you take a shaky breath. outside, they’re playing music and you hear annie’s shrieking laugh.

outside is the party colt took you to. to meet his friends, as he had put it.

now you’re here, in a small bathroom at an unknown house, not with colt – but with porco galliard. heart beating heavy in your chest as he lets his eyes wander over your body, you feel small and pathetic. still, the longing that has brought you here is slowly catching fire, turning into lust.

he doesn’t say a word when he takes a step toward you, placing his hands on your hips and grabbing them tightly. his grip is sure to leave a bruise but with how he breathes against your ear, you don’t care anymore. “i-“

“shh, you’re gonna kill the mood,“ porco chuckles and dips his head down, driving the flat of his tongue against your collarbone before pulling away and blowing against it, causing you to shiver and the tiny hairs on your body to stand up in anticipation.

you know it’s wrong, know you shouldn’t allow him to hook his hands under your thighs and lift you up so you can sit on the edge of the sink – so why are you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in even closer than he already was?

“fuck, you’re needy, aren’t you,” he rests his forehead against yours, voice coming deep and stirring the heat in your belly, making you feel as if you’re about to implode, “he doesn’t know how to fuck you in the right way, huh?”

there’s no need for you to answer, no need to state the obvious, so you stretch your neck to close the small distance between his lips and yours, crashing against him. tasting the bitterness of the vodka he had just minutes ago, you close your eyes and let a whimper escape. he’s right.

he’s laughing against your lips now, knowing you agree with him.

“he shouldn’t have brought you here.” leaning back, his eyes seem to be darker than before and his pushed back hair is starting to come loose, “should’ve known i’d be all over his pretty little girlfriend.”

even though you hate yourself for it, you nod.

“that’s right,” he brings his hand up to your jaw, grazing his thumb against your lower lip and then pushing into your mouth, index and middle finger soon to follow, “make sure they’re nice and wet, we don’t have much time.”

he’s not nice and doting, not asking what you want like colt always does. he just takes with expectations – ones you are more than willing to meet. so you lock your eyes with his as you gag on his fingers alone, knowing to heed his warning; you try to soak them in your own drool.

when your eyes are brimming with tears, he pushes down even further, causing you to cough and the tears to flow over.

“crying, already?” he coos. “he must treat you like you’re made of glass, hm?”

leaving you gasping for air when he finally pulls out, he breaks free from the hold your legs had around his waist. there’s a short laugh leaving him when he’s giving you another once-over and then nods.

“stand up,” tugging at your dress, he seems impatient, “told you we don’t have a lot of time.”

as soon as you slide down, porco turns you around and presses you up against the sink, cold stone digging into your hips as he bends you forward. looking up, you see the reflection of yourself and him in the mirror in front of you. catching a glimpse of his smirk, you look back down.

as long as you’re not looking at him, you wouldn’t feel as bad and that’s why you train your gaze on how your hands are grabbing the edge of the sink.

his hands slip under your dress, he’s quick to pull your panties aside before gliding his thumb through your slick folds. “so wet already.”

one hand placed on your ass, thumb holding your underwear in place, he slides his fingers into you without any warning. your walls tighten around him instantly, causing you to bite down on your tongue to hold back the moan that otherwise would’ve filled the room.

“c’mon, tell me how good i feel,” his digits pumping in and out of your already throbbing cunt, obscene sounds bouncing off the tiled walls, “how much better i feel than he does.”

“some-” - trying to collect your thoughts while also fucking yourself onto porco’s fingers leaves you breathless, “someone’s gonna hear.”

all he does is laugh when he pulls out one final time and goes to circle your clit, leaving you to clench around nothing and bucking onto the ball of his thumb until he completely pulls away from you.

legs already shaking and head hanging low, you hear him unbuckling his belt and spit into the palm of his hand. the groan coming from him sends waves of heat up your spine and you try to brace yourself for what’s going to follow.

pulling your panties down and bunching up your dress in one hand, the thick head of porco’s dick is already pushing into of you, causing you to hold your breath because you know he isn’t planning on letting you adjust to his size.

and you were right. even with his fingers stretching you out, you’re struggling to fit him but he keeps on pressing into you, leaving you to suck in the air through gritted teeth.

“look at her,” you hear coming from behind, “how hard she tries.”

with your brain in a haze, you know you should wonder about what he’s saying but you don’t. you’re too concentrated on how good he feels inside of you. and how wrong at the same time, but this only makes your pulse quicken even more.

to know the others are in the room next door, having no clue about how you’re being spread open on porco’s dick, having no idea that you’re nothing but a cheating whore, has walls fluttering around his length.

and when he finally bottoms out, he starts pulling back out. at a mind numbingly slow pace, you feel him come to a halt before he leaves you feeling empty again.

“don’t stop,” being the only thing to leave your lips, “porco, i dare-“

“hear her begging?” he places his hand on your hip and pulls you back onto his dick, “i bet she never begs like this when you’re the one fucking her.”

driving his hips forward again, he hits the bundle of nerves inside of you that makes you forget about how you wanted to be quiet. the moan escaping your lips as he switches to a steady pace.

“oh, she sounds so sweet,” his laugh is breathless this time, “you never told me how good she sounds, colt.”

as soon as you hear the name of your boyfriend, you look into the mirror to see porco holding his phone in one hand, obviously filming himself thrusting into your cunt. stuttering in your movements, he lifts his gaze from his phone and smirks back at your reflection in the mirror.

“c’mon now, keep fucking yourself on my cock,” he reaches forward, wrapping his free hand around your throat, “be a good girl for me, and i might let you do it again.”

raising the phone, he now films your reflection.

and you know you shouldn’t look straight into the camera and push back onto porco. it’s too late now, you think, too late to go back so you might as well enjoy yourself.

“tell him how good i feel,” his words are coming slurry now.

and with his tight balls slapping against your clit, with him continuously hitting the right spot, you nod, “feels- feels so good.”

“that’s what i thought,” letting go of your throat, he quickened his pace, “little whore that you are- one dick isn’t enough for you, huh?”

his hand sliding down your side, he reaches in front of you to rub circles against your clit again. the sensation of watching him do that, hearing him moan as you clench your walls around his dick and at the thought of all of it being filmed for your boyfriend to watch has you losing your mind.

“you-“ you turn your head to him now, graze your lips against his jaw, “your dick is enough.”

“hear- hear that, colt,” he groans, “my-“

his hips stuttering against your ass, he places the phone on the counter in front of you, grabbing your hips instead.

seeing him losing his cool pushes you over the edge, slapping one hand over your mouth to muffle the sound of your moans as your whole body trembles, heat rushing over you with every thrust he makes.

porco shoves your hand away the moment he realizes you’re trying to stay quiet, “let him hear.”

and you do. you couldn’t care less at this point, so the breathed “you fuck me so good,” flows from your lips naturally.

his fingers dig into your soft skin as he pulls you down onto his dick and holds you there, pumping his hot load into you, his cock twitching inside of you as a low “fuuuck-“ leaves him.

you stay like this for only a few seconds, and then he reaches back for his phone, turning the camera to face him. he makes a peace-sign before bringing it back between the two of you, filming how he pulls out of your cunt.

“will you look at that,” he spreads your cheeks to allow a better view.

feeling his and your cum drip down your thighs, you shudder at the thought of what you’ve just done – and even more when you realize how badly you want to do it again.

taglist: @odmlevis, @inumakizone, @blondeboyfriend, @peachysimp, @droolingoverfanfics, @starrynightlys wanna be tagged in my next work? fill out this form.

[gguksgalaxy]

Stranded | JJK | E2L

Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

›› AU: Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook ›› Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst ›› Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content, 18+) ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 13k ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles. Warnings Include: A lot of swearing, heavy themes of miscommunication and strong judgements, Jungkook sleeps around a lot, university related stress, brief mention of past underage drinking, emotional and romantic angst, argument, the desecration of a mug.  Sexual content: Protected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding.

A/N: This one's for you @fallinforkoo I hope that you like it!! This is not something I would usually write but the idea popped up when seeing the request so here she is! A little cliché but I hope it's original enough. Let me know what you guys think!

“As your best friend,” Taehyung says sheepishly over the phone, “I really need you to do me a favour.”

You groan, leaning your head over the edge of the bed. “I don’t like where this is going.”

He hums. He doesn’t even laugh. There’s just a brief silence before he asks you the impossible. “I need you to invite Jungkook for the get-together on Friday.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you spit. “Taehyung, my best friend, the platonic love of my life. I will do anything for you. Literally anything. I would suck your toes if you asked me, but I won’t do that.”

Now he laughs, loud and deep. It only makes you sulk more. Inviting Jeon Jungkook into your humble abode? To have him walk around with that smug—and delectably gorgeous—grin on his face as he finds something to make fun of? Not over your dead body. Not in a million years.

“Please, do it for me.”

You vigorously shake your head. “I don’t see how I would be doing you a favour by inviting him. You don’t even like him!”

“I mean...I really don’t mind him. But I like Jimin, a lot, and I feel bad for excluding his friend all the time, it’s starting to get weird. Can’t you just invite him over? I promise you won’t have to talk to him.”

Oh, but you do. Because Jungkook always manages to weasel under your skin and get you worked up to a point where you just have to say something. It’s not your fault that he’s such an ass. He just rubs you all the wrong ways. “I am in a constant state of wanting to rip his head off. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jungkook is just so...You really cannot stand him. First of all, he doesn’t study. All he does is party and sleep around with random girls. Yet, he still somehow manages to be at the top of the class. Secondly, he’s a dick. He has no respect for both his elders and you. Any chance he gets he will make fun of you or blatantly insult you. And lastly, he looks too good and he knows it. Walking around campus just basking in the attention from all the girls, and guys, who want him despite his reputation.

Taehyung snorts. “If I were you, I would be more worried that you’re in a constant state of wanting to suck his dick.”

“I’d rather snap his dick in half.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with Taehyung. After all, he’s the one who told Jimin to bring along his friend. Now, you’re regularly exposed to Jeon Jungkook’s incessant flirting with anything that breathes, constant whining about just about everything, and complete lack of personal space. Taehyung had been certain that if you got to know Jungkook outside of class, it would make you more amicable towards each other. However, it’s only made it worse.

“You know, sometimes people lie about something so often that they start to feel like it’s the truth.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up on the bed. It’s noon already. You really should be studying for your Psychology of Law exam. Also known as the course from hell. As a law student, you really can’t make sense of the material. All the mumbling about internal thought processes and stressors has your mind logging off. You’re chapters behind. You don’t even know where to start. Because unlike a certain someone, you actually have to study. Even with all-nighters, thorough summaries, and flashcards, you’ve still managed to fail quite a few classes. The future of your law degree literally balances on this one class. If you fail, you lose your scholarship.

“Are you still with me?”  Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, I’m just considering defenestrating myself. Anything better than studying for psych.”

“Even inviting Jungkook?”

“Anything but that.”  It’s not like Taehyung is completely wrong. Jungkook looks like a model when he actually decides to groom himself instead of showing up to class in sweats and uncombed hair. You’re way too aware that he works out five days a week. Or that he’s got tats lining his arm, intricate designs that—No. You’re not falling down this hole today.

Taehyung’s typing something up, probably studying for his own exams. “I will let you study then. Just please, invite him over. I will forever be in your debt. Be the better person.”

The sweet lining to Taehyung’s plea actually manages to work for once. He’s your best friend, after all. He would probably do the same thing for you. It’s just not that fun to be around Jungkook when part of you—as much as you may deny it—feels some type of way about him.

“I will consider it.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Don’t make me change it back to a no, Kim.”

He chuckles. “Someday, you will thank me. That day being the one when you finally come to terms with your feelings.”

“Bye, Taehyung,” you grumble, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the duvet.

So yes, maybe you do have a thing for Jungkook. Doesn’t make him any less annoying. If anything, it makes him even more insufferable. Why did you have to develop a weird crush on a guy you can’t even stand? The world doesn’t have to be cruel like that. But here you are. Not that it matters. Jungkook would sleep with just about any girl but you. Which says more about them.

Reluctantly, you get up and grab your books from your desk. Studying is easier in the living room, away from distractions.

Your peace doesn’t last long. Not even halfway through your first coffee, your doorbell rings.

Groaning, you get up and prepare your best ‘no I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling’ face. Upon unlocking the door, that face falters.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you spit out the moment you see Jungkook’s big doe eyes. He’s standing on your doorstep like he’s supposed to be here. With his backpack nonchalantly slung over one shoulder.

He looks past you, into your apartment. “Oh, you started studying for psych?”

Your living room is a mess. “Well, I was trying to start, but I’ve been rudely interrupted by someone who has no invitation to be here.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m here to make sure that you don’t fail another class and have to drop out.” Like he owns the place, he pushes past you and waltzes inside. He drops his backpack and readjusts his baseball cap, showing off his forehead and chocolate brown hair. It’s really starting to get long.

“I don’t need your help.” There’s no way he’s here just to help you study. And even if he was, he’s just going to distract you. You’re not friends. He must have some ulterior motive for being here. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t study, let alone help people study. Not to your knowledge at least. “I can manage just fine on my own.”

He grabs his laptop from his bag. “What part of ‘having to drop out if you fail another class’ did you not understand?” He puts the device down and gets comfortable on your couch. As if he’s done it before.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Who told you about that?”

He shrugs. “Jimin mentioned it, he must have it from Taehyung. Does it really matter?”

“Yes, it matters,” you sneer. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you to be here. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done with you around. Get the fuck out.” You point a finger at the door, waiting for him to leave. “Do you not hear me?”

“Oh, I heard you. I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself and realise that you actually need my help.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you tell me the difference between compliance and suggestion in the context of a police hearing?” he questions, leaning back and propping his clunky boot-clad feet onto the table.

You press your lips together in a thin line, thinking about a possible answer.

He grins. “Any idea what the Reid Technique is and why it is or isn’t ethical?”

“No,” you grumble.

“You know what the pros and cons are of an Oslo style eyewitness lineup?”

You shake your head, dropping your arms in defeat. He’s got you. You don’t know anything. Maybe you do need his help. As long as he tries to be nice, you can give him the benefit of the doubt. Another year of your degree is definitely worth it.

Jungkook pats the spot on the couch beside him. “Let’s get started, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to get you a good grade.”

And so you get to work. Jungkook makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. Aside from pulling out his flashcards, multiple summaries and annotated materials, he actually slips into the kitchen to make tea. He raids your pantry for snacks and pulls out your blanket from under the table.

“What?” He says, mouth stuffed with gummy bears while he unfolds the blanket. “I’m sorry, but your apartment is really fucking cold. Since you’re dressed as if you’re going to the North Pole, I assumed the radiator must be broken.”

“It has been almost a week now. My landlord is being an ass about it. Also, I’m wearing normal clothes that normal people wear when it’s cold outside. Unlike you, with your short-sleeves and thin coat.”

“It’s October.”

“It’s nine degrees outside. You’re insane.”

“No,” he says, sitting back down with the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just hot.”

A reluctant smile pulls at your lips. Why must you betray yourself?

He leans in close, inspecting your face. “I can’t believe I lived to see the day. You actually smiled at one of my jokes.”

If he’s good at one thing, it’s definitely proving that he’s an annoying shit. “I’m laughing at how pathetic you are.”

“At least I’m not the one who tried to hide her smile.”

“And I’m not the one who forced his way into this apartment. I’d watch out, some people might start to think you actually like being around me.” You turn back towards his laptop, scrolling through the document to the next topic. Police hearings.

Jungkook puts his hand down behind you so he can get closer—too close—and look over your shoulder. “Maybe,” he whispers, “I do like spending time with you.”

You whip your head around so fast you nearly knock heads with him. He doesn’t move. Both your noses basically touching. At this proximity you can see all the fine details in his skin. The flecks of lighter brown in his eyes that really do shine. The moles on his nose, the scar on his cheek.

“Nah.” He pulls away. “I’m just messing with you. I still don’t like you.”

What on earth did you do to make him come over here? If he dislikes you so much, he shouldn’t have bothered. You’re not a charity case. “If you’d just let me fail, you wouldn’t have to put up with me again.”

He tuts. “Where’s the fun in that? I’d honestly miss your bad comebacks and petty remarks.”

“Excuse me, my comebacks are not bad?”

“They’re mediocre at best, ma’am,” he laughs, grin showing the fullness of his cheeks that make him look deceptively cute.

You shiver at the thought. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not cute. Yes, he’s probably a good guy deep down, but he’s not cute. Jeon Jungkook is and always will be an annoying, self-entitled, arrogant brat. Nothing is going to change your mind. Not even the way your heart beats faster from just having him so close.

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” you bite.

“I’m not even going to give you any points for that. You didn’t even try!” He makes an exasperated gesture as he grabs another handful of gummies.

‘Childish’ should be added to the list. “Are you here to help me study or not?”

Jungkook nods, sitting cross-legged. “Just so I get to bother you for another year.”

The two of you get back to work. He takes you through a very detailed and too dramatic explanation of the Reid technique. You find yourself captivated by how passionate he seems. He sure does know a lot about the subject.

Jungkook turns out to be a very active talker. He makes very detailed descriptions and uses his hands to explain things. It’s easy to understand him, but it’s way harder to memorise it. As the material gets more complicated, he gets more serious and you start to lose track. His frown deepens, dimple-like creases appearing in his cheek that make him look sharper and older. You can’t help but stare.

He’s so handsome. The tattoos that circle around his left arm shift as he speaks. The same way that his earrings dangle as he moves. You get caught up in him, the way he talks, the passion that rolls off him in waves.

“Are you gawking at me?”  He says, stopping his movements mid-air.

Cheeks flushed, you try to come up with a smart reply. “I was thinking whether your head has always looked this big.”

His lips pull into a straight line. “I’m here trying to do my best to explain to you what the difference is between an Oslo confrontation and a sequential lineup, and you’re worried about the size of my fucking head?”

“I mean, it’s awfully big, no?”  You poke his forehead.

He grabs your wrist in return, pulling your body towards him. “Can you at least try to appreciate my effort?”

“I’m listening!”

Wetting his lips, he arches an eyebrow. “Explain the difference to me.”

Well, you weren’t listening that intently. “Uh, a sequential lineup has a lower chance of causing false positives.”

“That’s the last sentence I said, you can do better.” He lets go of you so you can lean back. For a second, he actually seems pissed off. Maybe you should try, he’s doing his best after all. It’s just hard when he’s here looking this good.

“Oslo confrontations feature the suspects in a lineup at the same time, whereas a sequential lineup shows them one by one.” That’s all you got.

“Well,” he says, throwing you a gummy from the bag. “You got one point out of five.”

Treat halfway to your mouth, you stop. “One?!”

He nods. “And I’m being generous with you. First of all, you cannot call them suspects, they’re candidates or possible suspects. There’s usually only one suspect and the rest are actors who look like the suspect. You also missed the part where, during the sequential lineup, the witness doesn’t get to see all the suspects. Once they pick the one they think is the perpetrator, they will not get to see the additional candidates.”  Why does this sound so hot when he says it?

God, you’re going insane. “Well, I’ll try to remember that and the seven-hundred other things you said. All the blabbering you do makes it really hard.”  It comes out harsher than you intended. From the way Jungkook stays silent, you know it must’ve hit home.

He gets up, making your heart sink. “I think it’s time for a break. You’re getting frustrated. Do you want to order pizza?”

“I don’t recall asking you to stay over for dinner.”

Jungkook takes a long, deep breath, closing his eyes. You can feel the anger build up. “Listen, I’m here to help you. The least you can do is fucking appreciate it. Be stubborn all you want, but you need this. You want a shot at this degree. I’m here, because as much as I can’t stand you, I won’t enjoy watching you get kicked off the entire program because you’re struggling with the material.”  There’s a heavy pause. You let his words sink in. The level of concern is surprising. It’s sweet. “So do you want to order pizza or not? Because I’m starving.”

You nod. “Pizza sounds good.”

The tension ebs away after that. Jungkook goes into the kitchen and comes back with a mug filled with milk, of all things. You bite your tongue.

“I want pineapple on my pizza,” he says.

Pausing, you raise your eyebrows. “You cannot be serious.”

“Depends. How much do you hate pineapple?” His shit eating grin returned like it was never gone. It gives him away.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you speak; “So, double pineapple for you?”

Suddenly, his face falters. “Whoa, you can’t actually do that to me.”

“You’re the one who said he likes pineapple!”

“It was a joke. No person in their right mind would put fruit on their pizza.”  He sits next to you, taking another sip of his milk. “I’m really not picky though, but the one with the jalapenos is good. Or the chili chicken.”  Jungkook scoots closer so he can scroll through the menu on your phone, hand brushing against yours.

This way, you get a clear view of the rose tattoo on his hand. It’s beautiful, detailed but still in a traditional style. It suits him, as do his other tattoos. Though this one has always stood out to you.

“I’m just going to get pepperoni,” you say after a while.

Jungkook sighs, then turns his head to whisper in your ear; “Boring.”

Startled, you shove him so hard he falls onto his back. “Don’t be such a child. I’m not going to make you eat it.”

When he sits back up, his shirt rises and reveals the edge of a narrow, toned waist. You look away, focusing on actually ordering the pizza. Jungkook really doesn’t have to be so casually attractive. He’s not even trying and you can’t keep your eyes off him, noticing something new every minute. A good reason to not spend any more time with him after this.

“Gimme.” He plucks your phone out of your hands so he can order his own pizza. With the utmost concentration, he scrolls and types in some things. No doubt using your pre-set credit card to pay for it. “Wait,” he says, sitting up straight. “Whoa, you’re friends with Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi? The guy who won this year’s mock court?”

Gasping, you dart over to grab the phone from him. “Don’t go through my messages!” With one hand on your chest, he manages to keep the device out of your reach. “Jungkook!”

His eyes move over the screen, reading your messages with the third year law student. “Why didn’t you just ask him for help, huh? He seems to like you, and that’s something. I don’t think Yoongi likes anybody.”

You try harder to grab your phone from his hands. It must look insane, your body bent over his, him trying to find ways to hold you off and keep the phone out of your reach. Somehow, you end up squashed between his—way too strong—thighs.

“Jungkook give me my phone back!” you whine.

Something on the screen makes him raise his eyebrows. “Are you two like—you know? Cuz I’ve heard some stuff and—”  

You shake your head, getting uneasy with the fact that he’s really reading your personal messages. “I don’t like Yoongi like that.”

Jungkook lifts his leg, using his knee to push you back. He’s got way too much strength in his body. “Okay, but I’m not sure that he knows that. He’s not a nice guy, you should steer clear of him.”

“Oh, and you would know how? It’s not like you’re such a gentleman.” Again, you try to jump for your phone, but he stops you in time by grabbing your wrist.

Face serious, he holds your gaze. “I’m not kidding. We run in the same circles. He’s a total asshole, you don’t want to get involved with him. You can do better.”

That sure is a way to silence you. You frown, settling back into your seat as Jungkook keeps scrolling through the chat. “I’m not into him, but he’s been texting me for a while. I was in his group for mock court.” Finally, you get your phone back, but your stomach feels uneasy looking at it. Perhaps Yoongi’s messages are a bit forward.

“I don’t know Yoongi well enough to be able to say for sure, but I know enough to tell you that he doesn’t talk to girls like you because he wants to be friends,” Jungkook says with a hand lingering on your thigh.

Way to make you feel good about yourself, Jeon. “What does that mean, girls like me?”

His face changes, eyes wide.

“What are you trying to say?” you press.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leans forward onto his knees. “All I’m saying is that you don’t deserve to get played by some asshole who’s just trying to get into your pants.”

“Oh.” Is he being for real? He’s looking out for you? This is not how this is supposed to go. Jungkook shouldn’t be nice to you. He shouldn’t be helping you, or care about your wellbeing. He’s a dick and the two of you squabble and yell at each other. Yet, your chest warms at his words. Even if you weren’t looking to get together with Yoongi, it’s good to know he might have alternative motives. “Thank you.”

All he does is nod, before he grabs his laptop to resume where you guys left off. The awkwardness slowly dissipates as he takes you through the entire lineup thing again, just so you’ve got it down. After that you move onto the remaining subjects.

Today sure is strange. You never expected things to be so comfortable with Jungkook. Despite his exasperating personality and your on and off bickering, his presence is pleasant. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into the couch, drinking your third large cup of coffee.

Completely focussed on his monologue, you ask questions very sparingly, enraptured by him. You knew he was smart, he passes his classes with grades of 80% or higher for a reason. However, it’s different to see it in action.

Pizza arrives a little late, much to Jungkook’s dismay. Turns out he’s quite cranky when he gets hungry. He devours his pizza way faster than you can get through half of yours, and he’s quick to inch towards a slice from your box. You smack his hand away, reminding him of how he slandered you for your topping choice. He can have your leftovers from yesterday

“You call this pasta?” he questions in a disgusted tone, crouched down by the fridge

“Take it or starve. Your choice.”

He gets up, nose scrunched. “I’d rather starve, thanks. What exactly do you excel at? Since it’s not school, wit, or cooking.”

“Aim,” you spit, flicking a piece of pepperoni at him. It hits him straight in the cheek and you burst out into a fit of laughter. He stares at you in utter disbelief, removing the greasy piece of meat from his face. Tongue pressed to his cheek, he fights off his own smile—or an insult.

Eventually, he sits back down and goes over the remaining material while you eat. The end comes faster than you expected, his eyes darting to the clock.

“It’s getting late, I should probably go home.”

“What?” You pout. “How can you leave me to my own devices like this?!”

“Because I did what I could. I took you through all the material, now it’s up to you to try and memorise it. I’ve sent you my summaries and I’ll leave my flashcards here.” He grabs his things, meticulously stuffing them back into his backpack. With a heavy heart, you hand him his cap that had fallen to the floor.

Jungkook pushes his hair back, putting his cap on. He looks as nonchalant as he did when he came in. Backpack slung over one shoulder, hand shoved into his pocket. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad my presence was enjoyed.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I only endured you because I want to pass.” Part of that is true. Though, he wasn’t as bad to hang out with as you had originally assumed. Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t around to show off to. Or because he genuinely wanted to help. Which is still weird. “Good luck to you too.”

He waves you goodbye, opening up the door, only to be met with a gust of wind. The sound of rain enters your apartment. Water plummets from the sky by the bucket.

“Shit,” Jungkook peers outside, hesitating in the doorway. “If I don’t show up tomorrow morning, please assume that I have drowned.”

You would’ve laughed at the idea of him getting soaking wet any other day. He came here to help you study and now he has to walk home through the rain. No doubt he’s going to catch a cold dressed the way he is. Maybe you should listen to Taehyung and be the better person for once.

Getting up, you pull him back inside by the string of his backpack. “You can’t go out when it’s like that, you’ll get sick.”

He turns with a smile. “As much as I would like to see you squirm a little longer, I need to study too.”

“You study?”

“How else do you think I get good grades? Eat books for breakfast?”

You shrug. “We can study together tonight?”

Stepping closer, Jungkook forces you back inside. Almost nose to nose. Your heart skips a beat when his breath fans over your face. “Is this just a lame excuse from you to spend more time with me?”

“No. But I can only imagine the tragedy that will befall me if you catch a cold because you were out here helping me study.” You poke a finger into his chest. A grave mistake, it’s way firmer than you’d thought. “If I let you stay over, you no longer owe me one.”

“I’m sorry, but it really sounds like you just want me to stay.” Jungkook inches closer, backing you against the couch.

You open your mouth to say something when your phone rings. Looking over to where it lies on the couch, you see Taehyung’s name displayed. He can wait. You glance back up at Jungkook, who’s nearly chest to chest with you, and also has his eyes locked on the phone.

Then, he grins.

You act fast, snatching the phone from the couch and declining the call before he even gets a chance to touch it. Taehyung really doesn’t need to know that Jungkook is here.

Jungkook himself, however, picks up on this. He chuckles lightly, arching his eyebrow. “Are you trying to hide the fact that I’m here?’”

“I wouldn’t say I was trying to hide it, but I really don’t need my friends to think I’m hanging out with you.”

Jungkook drops his bag in the chair again, curious glint in his eyes. “And why is that?”

“Because,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”

“What am I now? A villain?”

“No, you’re a stuck up fuckboy who does nothing but party and sleep with random girls and yet somehow still manages to pass all his classes. You’re annoying, egotistical, insufferable, pushy, invasive and disrespectful.”  You let out a deep breath. Yeah, maybe Jungkook’s been nice to you today, but he hasn’t changed.

He rolls his eyes. “Well then. I’ll have you know that you are nothing more than an average, boring girl struggling to get by. You’re opinionated, crass, entitled, standoffish, a bad listener, impossibly stubborn and a bit of an airhead.”  The words leave him as if they mean nothing. “It’s not like I’d want to be associated with the likes of you either. But here I am, stranded because of the storm. So you, my dear, are stuck with me tonight. You did offer for me to stay over, after all.”

“Whatever,” you breathe, “let’s just try to study.”

The two of you return to your previous position on the couch, but now, he faces you. With the flashcards in hand, Jungkook reaches into his bag and pulls out a container filled with Maltesers.

The rules are simple. You take turns asking each other questions. If you get it right, you get a chocolate, you get it wrong the person who asked the question gets a chocolate. Easy enough, right? Now that you feel a bit more steady with the material, you should be able to answer some questions correctly. Even if it’s just to rob Jungkook of the satisfaction of eating the entire thing on his own.

Two questions in and the bickering starts. Jungkook’s whining because he’s cold and you can’t turn up the radiator. But since he was the one to leave the door open, it’s his fault that it’s so cold in here to begin with. You’ve long hogged the blanket for yourself and you don’t intend on sharing it. It’s the only barrier that’s keeping you from touching his feet.

“Please,” he pouts. “I’m so cold, you can’t let me freeze to death in this fucking igloo.”

You pull the blanket closer. “No. It’s mine.”

He whines. “Come on, it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be warmer if we share.”

“No.”

“You do realise I could just take it from you by force.”

“You would not.”

He sits up straighter, putting a hand on the edge of the fabric. “I’m giving you the option now. Either you share, or I’m pulling it from your cold, grabby hands. If you’re just afraid to snuggle with me, you can just say so.”

In order to not admit defeat, you give up half of the blanket so he can shove his legs under it. He extends his legs way past his side of the couch, his feet touching your lower back. You have no choice but to fold one of your legs over his, the other extended by his side. Indeed, it’s warmer this way.

“Now, where were we?” He flips to his next card. “Ah, yes. Weapon focus effect.”

That one you remember clearly. “It’s when a witness’ attention was so focused on the weapon present at the incident that they fail to remember any significant details about the perpetrator. It’s an involuntary process that often leads to inaccurate descriptions of the attackers.” You definitely got that one, no doubt. It’s easy.

Jungkook throws you a chocolate. “Good job, you’re doing well. It seems you listened to what I had to say after all.”

“I mean,” you say, popping the chocolate into your mouth. “I didn’t have that much of a choice but to listen, now did I?”

“You were visually undressing me the entire time. I had assumed your mind was busy with...other things.” He’s doing it on purpose, trying to get some type of reaction from you. Instead, you just bite your lip, not knowing what to say. “Oh, was I right? Tell me, what were you thinking about.”

You let out a sound, throwing a pillow at him. “I wasn’t thinking anything. And I wasn’t undressing you.”

“No, you were thinking of how big my head was, right? Would it,” he pauses, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath, “fit between your thighs?”

“What is wrong with you!” You scream, hands covering your face that quickly turns red.

He laughs in return. “You’re so easily flustered. I’d almost call it cute.”

Peering through your fingers, you frown. “Almost?”

“Yeah, almost. Not quite, because you’re still you.”

In a surge of confidence, you sit up straight and grab the stack of cards again. Not looking at him as you speak. “How about, instead of imagining what I taste like, you tell me what a flashbulb memory is.”

Inches away from choking on his spit, Jungkook doesn’t manage to come up with a smart retort. He just answers your questions with pursed lips and distant eyes. It’s correct though, so you get to throw him a chocolate. Which of course, he catches with his mouth. Show off.

It goes on for another while, storm raging outside. With the winds turned, you can now clearly hear the pattering against your window. You can’t imagine what Jungkook would’ve done had he been walking through this storm. It’s only getting worse.

Time ticks by fast. Soon, Jungkook is left with one last flashcard in his hands. And you are determined to get that last chocolate. He smirks to himself, probably aware that you don’t know the answer to this. But if anything, you are determined to prove him wrong.

“Tell me,” he trails, “what is the difference between compliance and suggestibility?”

You know this. He’s explained it three times. So you’re confident in your next words. “Compliance is when a witness giving a testimony willingly accepts a suggestion but is aware that the suggestion is wrong. Suggestibility is when they believe that the suggestion is right and thus take it for the truth. Both are problematic, but suggestibility is harder to expose.”

Jungkook tuts. “You got them switched around.”

“Huh?! That can’t be right!”

“Sure is, the last chocolate is mine.”

You snatch the bag away before he can grab it. “I don’t think so. Let me see that card.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“For chocolate? I sure am. Let me see.”  You crawl over to his side, squishing yourself between him and the couch. “Jungkook,” you whine when he covers the card with his hand, “let me see. My grade depends on this.”

He chuckles at you. “It does not. I’m confident that you will pass regardless.”

You try to pry the card out of his hand, but it’s no use. The grip he has on the thing is too strong. He manages to hold you down without even breaking a sweat. It’s a few beats before you can realise that you’re now entirely pressed up against him. You can feel the muscles in his thighs shift, the soft skin of his arm against yours

“Let me have the chocolate and I will show you,” he whispers.

Flushed, you stop struggling. “Whatever, I know I’m right.”

Jungkook then reveals the card to you, showing you that you indeed, were right. “I’m glad you’re finally confident in your abilities. That’s the key to passing a test.”

Has he really been testing you this entire time? That’s sure one way to do the trick. Without replying, you sink into his side. Silently enjoying his warmth. It’s comfortable to sit like this, now that it’s night and the apartment continues to get colder. You don’t mind, really. Inhaling slightly, you catch a whiff of his fresh floral scent. It’s mixed with a sharp edge that suits him well.

As Jungkook grabs the stack of cards you got wrong to revise them, you don’t move. The two of you just get comfortable like that. It’s easier to see the cards the way anyhow. You can just look at them together. Plus, you’re starting to feel a little sleepy and don’t want to move. He seems equally as content, just reciting the questions and explaining why you got them wrong.

“Okay so,” you say, pointing at something on the card. “It’s not so much an issue on the witness’ side as it is on the police’s?”

Jungkook nods, looking at you. “They’re the ones leading the witness. It’s not the witness’ fault that they take on their opinion.”

You hum, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t falter, almost as if he’s searching your eyes. “Something wrong?”you ask, voice hushed, goosebumps appearing on the back of your neck. There’s a mole right below his bottom lip which is plump and looks soft. His top lip is more defined, making for a cute pout. The more you look, the more you notice all his moles. On his nostril, his cheek, his ear.

“No,” he answers eventually. Voice strained. “I think you have a pimple growing between your brows.”

“Get lost!” You shove your elbow into his side, pulling a pained groan from him. “You’re so stupid.”

For a moment he’s quiet, just rubbing his side and shifting so he can get more comfortable. One of his legs falls off the couch, the other still between yours. “You really hate me, huh?”

At any other given moment, you would’ve replied with yes. But now, it’s laden. Is he asking you that seriously? It’s one thing to tell Taehyung you can’t stand him, or to yell it in his face when he’s being a brat, but you can’t literally say it to him like this. Why, you don’t really know. The expectant look makes your stomach tighten.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

He shrugs. “No reason in particular. Just because,” he gestures at your bodies, “it doesn’t seem like you mind being around me that much. If anything I’d say that,” he stops, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the barely-there graze of his lips. “You like being around me.”

You bite your tongue, looking up to find his eyes darker than before. Cocking his head to the side, he awaits your answer. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction. There’s no need to stroke his already big ego any more. Yes, this is more pleasant than you’d expected. Yes, he’s nice to be around. But... “You’re still a pain in the ass. Sorry.” With that, you had expected him to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

“So are you,” he teases, lips stretching into a lopsided grin.

Within a heartbeat, your lips are touching. Jungkook groans. You gasp, pulling him closer. Closed eyes, your heart beats a million miles an hour, revelling in the feeling of his mouth against yours. How soft his lips are. The trailing of his fingertips up your neck so he can crane your head back.

He comes to life, parting with a brief look into your eyes and a deep breath. Then, diving in full force. Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting to—like he’s hungry for it. You can barely believe that it’s happening, still trying to register that he’s actually kissing you. That it feels this good.

Your entire body kicks into gear when he bites at your bottom lip. Shifting your body to face his, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Returning his fervor, your mouths part and tongues meet in a desperate clash. Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural sound that makes you shiver. He’s skilled, tongue swiping over yours in a way that you can barely keep up with. Deliciously hot, just edging on sloppy. There’s no room for pauses, no time for thoughts.

Gaining purchase against the armrest, you swing a leg over his to sit in his lap. Jungkook’s leaning back still, pawing at your waist now that he’s got full access. You take full advantage of the position, crashing into him and devouring him. Biting at his lips, sucking his tongue into your mouth. The feeling is nearly euphoric paired with the rough, firm touches of his hands all over your body.

He touches anything he can find. Gripping onto your thighs and ass, slipping under your tank top and sweater to graze the skin on your back. Sparks erupt everywhere.

Mid-kiss, he sits up. Twisting so he can firmly plant both his feet on the found. It’s the angle he needs to pull you right against him. Your hips make contact and you moan. He’s not quite hard but he’s certainly getting there and the thought makes your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasp, breaking away for air while he grids his hips up into yours. “Jungkook—”

“No talking,” he mouths against your jawline. “More kissing,” his voice is so  raspy that it’s barely recognisable. Almost a growl.

You push his cap off. Grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him firmly. Angling his head back the same way he had done to you. Kissing him is way better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s rougher, stronger, harder against your body. You need more.

Slipping your hands under his shoulder, you lift it. Tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling how he jumps under your touch. It empowers you, makes you bolder. Your fingers reach a pert nipple, brushing over it only to hear him moan in the back of his throat. God, he keeps on getting better and better. Sensitive it seems, as you roll the bud between your fingers. His hips buck up into yours. Fully hard at this point, he must start to get uncomfortable in those jeans.

Jungkook’s resolve with kissing you slows, needing air. He breaks away with a smirk, cheeks flushed and panting. Holding your gaze steady, he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Revealing planes of unmarred skin and tattoos you had yet to discover.

You take no shame in staring, reaching out to trace the dream catcher on his shoulder. Moving along the lines of thread and feathers that reach his elbow.

“Like what you see?” he whispers, pushing you closer with a hand on your lower back just so he can kiss your neck. You shiver, legs spreading. Leaning your head back to give him enough room to mark you up. The thought alone makes you whimper. “What’s that?” he mumbles, licking a hot stripe up your throat.

Fingers digging into his shoulders, you grind down onto him. He moans in response. “Stop being so smug.”

Jungkook throws his head back, looking at you through his lashes as you gyrate your hips more firmly. His body on full display. “I don’t know, it seems like you’re into it.”

“For fucks sake, shut up and kiss me.”

He listens, capturing your mouth with his. Everything moves fast after that. Between tongues and mouths clashing, Jungkook rids you of your sweater. He kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks and enjoying the way that you quiver for him. You’re soaking through your leggings at this point. Jungkook’s doing no better.

When he pulls away, you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, collarbones and chest. To get off his lap and kneel between his legs. His eyes widen as you do so. A hand immediately comes up to push your hair aside, tipping your chin upwards. When he traces his thumb over your mouth, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around the digit and bite down, making him hiss.

Spreading his legs to accomodate you, he relaxes against the cushions. Just like little pricks on the edge of your consciousness, you feel the nerves. You question your skills when you undo his jeans and pull them down his legs. Yet, the hazy look in his eyes tells you that he’s going to like this no matter what. He all but arches into you when you palm him through his underwear. Rock hard and leaking through the fabric, you don’t want to wait any longer to finally get your mouth on him. To hear him moan for you.

So you reach past his waistband, foregoing any teasing and pull the fabric down. His cock slaps up against his stomach, making him hiss again. The sight is gorgeous. Jungkook with his head thrown back, hair a mess, chest heaving and flushed even though you’ve barely touched him. It’s satisfying to know you did that to him.

You sit down on your knees, holding him in one hand and go slow. Mouthing at him first, giving him just a taste of what’s to come. He doesn’t hold back for you, reddened lips parting with all the noises he lets out. When you take the tip into your mouth, he jolts—groans and reaches to anchor himself on your shoulder. You have one hand on his thigh, the other around the base. That way, you steady yourself when you sink down on him.

“Don’t—Fuck, keep going.” A gentle hand winds into your hair, guiding you further onto his cock. You’re not usually one to do this but, seeing him feel this good spurs you on. It makes you want to take all of him. You don’t stop when he hits the back of your throat, gag reflex kicking in. He moans at the feeling, so you try to swallow. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that. Your mouth,” he pants, “so good.”

Feeling his grip loosen, you pull up, taking a deep breath when you let him out of your mouth. Spit dribbles from your mouth to the head, tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You look up, giving him the full vision, and you don’t look away when you sink down again.

You’re so wet. Core aching but unable to find any sort of relief. You end up trying to grind your hips without any payoff. Meanwhile, you start a steady rhythm. Hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on the underside. It works. You have him moaning out your name in seconds. His hand tightens in your hair again, not to force you, but spurring you on to take him a little deeper each time. Right until your nose hits his stomach. You hold there, to let him feel the flex of your throat one more time. Just so he remembers it. Then you take your rhythm back up, a little faster, a little tighter. Your jaw starts to hurt, but it’s worth it. To feel his thighs start to tremble and his stomach clench. How he tightens his hold on your hair, moans pitching every time you pass your tongue right under the head.

Your lungs are burning, but you can’t help but feel addicted to him. Sucking him harder and feeling him near that edge. You dig your nails into his thigh, breathing in through your nose. Jungkook’s hip start moving just a little, enough to startle you.

“‘M close,” he moans. “Fuck, can I—in your mouth. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, browns furrowed deep. When he opens his eyes you shiver. His lids are heavy, pupils blown and cheeks red. Just like his lips—he sinks his teeth into his bottom one when you resume.

He takes it as a yes, unable to stop his hips from pushing up. You let him take control, holding yourself still, hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s breathing picks up, moans mixing into one drawn out sound. You meet his eyes, mouth stuffed with his cock. That’s all he needed. He twitches and cums into your mouth. The taste is bitter and harsh on your tongue. You close your eyes, focused on the feeling of his body trembling. You’re the one who did that to him.

When he lets you go and you pull off him, he gives you a fuck-out yet expectant look. A cocky arch of his eyebrow when he sees your bulged cheeks. Waiting for you to swallow.

Instead, you reach for his mug that sits on the edge of the table and spit into it. Flinching at the leftover taste.

Jungkook nudges you with his knee. “Why are you like this?”

You set his cup down and reach for your own, take a big gulp of now-cold coffee. “I’m not swallowing your jizz.” The thought of doing that alone makes you want to puke.

“Don’t call it that.”

Rolling your eyes, you stand up on wobbly legs. “I just had it in my mouth, so I can call it whatever I want.”

Jungkook mimics your eyeroll. “Fine.” He pats your thigh. “Pants off.”

“What?”

He lies down on the couch. Surely he doesn’t expect you to ride him after you just fucked up your throat for him? What an ass. “You heard me, naked now. Chop chop.” He motions for you to hurry up and you just give him a blank stare. “Ugh, come here.”  Jungkook sits up just slightly again and pulls you closer by your waistband. He gives you a brief look. “Unless you don’t wanna get naked?”

You chuckle, pushing at his hands to get him to slide your leggings off. A hand slips between your thighs to touch you. Rubbing you through the fabric, your knees nearly buckle. He’s nonchalant about it, lying back, eyes focused between your legs. Yet, he’s too accurate, easily finding his target.

“Jungkook,” you whine, grabbing onto the back of the couch.

He smirks. “Let’s take these off too.” The snap of your panties to your hip pulls you back. You shove them down, taken aback by the feeling of a hand grabbing your thigh. You’re about to question him, when he scoots further back on the couch and lifts your leg past his body. “Have a seat.”

Mind absolutely blank, you let him guide you to sit over his face. You’re dripping and he can see it—feel it probably from the way you just grazed his chest. A small moan leaving your lips when he reaches up to kiss your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you.”

You shift forward, holding onto the back of the couch. His hands come up to your thighs, pulling you even higher so he can slot his mouth onto your core. You can’t help but moan.

Noisy. Jungkook is so noisy. He sucks your lips into his mouth, teethes at them until you’re shaking. You struggle to hold your hips still, the need to grind into him too strong. And he does nothing to stop you. No, he urges you on. Looking up at you with those big eyes and nodding against you. Jungkook opens his mouth, tongue darting out to tease at your clit just briefly. Then, the reigns are all yours.

He holds you by the hips so you can hesitantly start moving. You shiver. It feels so good; the wet warmth of his mouth against your core. He follows you, hands pawing at your thighs, hips, and ass. With eyes closed, Jungkook eats you out like he’s been dying to do it. There’s no teasing, no playing—he’s straight to the point. You move over his tongue as he sucks on your cunt, nibbling and flicking whenever he gets the chance. Anything else is irrelevant. The sight of his head blissed out between your thighs is all you can focus on.

The pleasure spikes, shooting up your spine and filling you with warmth. It’s embarrassing how fast he gets you on the edge. How good he is. The way he occasionally stops you to take that bundle of nerves between his lips and suck on it until you’re screaming—it’s mind blowing. Your entire body is on fire, sweat drips down your back. His name falls from your lips in cries that echo throughout the room. Louder than the storm raging against the window.

“Jungkook, I’m—” you pant, unable to finish your sentence with the moans that he pulls from you. Incapable of thinking from the second he swirls his tongue around your entrance and presses inside. You halt all your movements. Nails dug deeply into the couch, you reach for his hair with your other hand. He moans when you grip it tightly, his own fingers tightening around your hips. “Don’t stop.”

He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and sucking on your clit. The intensity is almost too much. The irregularity keeps you on your toes and has you nearly teetering over the edge. You just need to—Jungkook reaches behind you and plunges two fingers into your sopping core. The sensation of being filled along with his tongue flicking over you has your eyes rolling back. Everything goes white.

You double over on the couch, unable to keep yourself up and smothering him in the process. Trembling in his hold, he helps you slowly ride out your high. Short, gentle movements against his mouth. The rocking of your hips is as involuntary as the way your body keeps shaking when he lets you go. Breath high in your throat, you chuckle.

“Good god.” You fall down when he slips out from underneath you.

As you twist towards him, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling over you. All your limbs still feel like jelly, your mind swimming. “Yeah, that good?”

You hum, eyes closing. Wanting to lie down, you turn on your back, hearing a sharp thud.

“Shit,” Jungkook gasps. He’s grasping his chin with a laugh.

A few seconds pass before you feel the soreness in your knee. “Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you whine, reaching up to touch him. But he has other plans. Jungkook surges down smiling, pressing your mouths together for the first time in what feels like hours. The stickiness on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. The reminder that he just ate you out, that he’s the one who made you cum that hard. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He kisses you deeply, smiling against your mouth. You finally get rid of your tank top, now fully naked. He mouths over your chest, twisting your nipples, spreading your legs so that he can fit between them. Pressing himself against you, hard and waiting. “Can you go again?” he asks, pulling away and searching your eyes.

You still feel floaty, but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your thigh has you quivering. “Yeah.”  You’re aching to feel him inside, so you tilt your hips up towards him. Spreading your legs wider and inviting him.

“Wait,” you blurt, eyes flying open and pressing a hand against his chest. He stops with his hand around his dick, just about ready to slide home. “Condom.”

Jungkook curses, looking around the room. He locates his jeans that lie in a pile with his shirt and boxers. The fact that he’s actually got a condom in there is uncanny.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?”  You joke.

He shrugs. “I wore these jeans while going out last night.”

“You’re disgusting!” You slap his arm lightly, but he just chuckles in return. He knows just as well as you do that you’re waiting for him to fuck you. The clenching of your core attests to that.

No time is wasted, Jungkook puts the condom on and lines himself up. “You good?”  

You nod. “Just go slow.”

The slight oversensitivity just makes it feel even better. He stretches you out so perfectly. You feel every inch, every stutter of his hips as he goes deeper. Way deeper than you’d expected. Until his hips meet yours and he curses, burying his face into your neck.

“You feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your skin.

“You too.” Trailing your fingers up his back, you wait for your body to adjust to him. To feel yourself relax and pull for more. That tell-tale need for movement, friction. Jungkook holds steady, hips barely moving. “Go,” you say when your stomach clenches. “Move. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Jungkook growls, grasping onto the couch. Pulling out and slamming back in full force. You slide up the cushions, so fast you grasp onto him for support. Fingernails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist, you keen at the pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Harder, more precise.

Your back arches off the couch, mouth agape. Pleasure is constant, like your body is vibrating with it. Jungkook mouths at your neck, sucking, biting—teeth playfully tugging at your ear just to whisper something dirty that you can barely comprehend. Your mind can’t make sense of anything but his dick pumping inside of you. His hips slapping against yours and his mouth against your skin.

Until he kisses you. His mouth messily connecting with yours, movements slowing. With a hand on your ass, he hikes you up the couch, angling your body so that he can press your legs to your chest. Just like that, he picks up. Starting off slow, still kissing you, tongue laving over yours almost sweetly. You shiver, the slow drag of his cock as delicious as the harsh assault. He changes angles, just a hair, but it’s enough for him to graze that part inside of you that makes you see stars.

Throwing your head back, you moan. Fingers sliding through the sweat on his back, up to tangle into his hair, gripping tight. He groans. Head falling onto your shoulder, hips stuttering against yours.

“You like that?” you whisper into his ear, tongue darting out to flick at a pierced lobe.

He nods, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you pull hard. Hips picking up, chasing the pleasure.

Hearing him moan like that. So unabashed and loud, only adds to your pleasure. Toes curling, you close your eyes and let your head fall back. Hips meeting him thrust for thrust, helping him reach even deeper inside of you. To hit that spot every single time. Jungkook has perfected that balance between smooth and hard. Never slamming rough enough to jolt you, yet firm enough to make you capable of sounds you were unaware of. Rhythmic, never stopping or slowing. So constant you can’t do anything but fall into motion with him.

Bodies syncing up. Hands finding places to touch.  Nipples, lips, thighs, waists, hair. He is holding you spread open for him, your thighs starting to ache. But it’s worth it, because soon, you feel the pleasure spike.

Your stomach tightens, tingling at the base of your spine. “Jungkook,” you moan.

He answers by looking up, lips bitten red and parted.

“Can you,” you can’t finish the sentence, moaning and closing your eyes. Tapping his hand on your thigh is enough though. He releases you, instead pulling your legs around his waist. Closer like this, his chest slides over yours. It gives you just enough space to reach between your bodies and touch yourself.

He looks down at the sensation, cursing at the sight of your fingers playing with your clit while his cock slides in and out of you. The angle doesn’t let you do the same, but you can hear the slick slide clearly. You can feel it dripping down your ass.

The added pleasure is enough to put you on the edge, fast. “I’m gonna—Jungkook!” you yelp when he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” One hand between your bodies, the other holding his hair.

In seconds, your high hits you. Hard. Your entire body locks up, so much that Jungkook lets out a strangled moan. Fluttering around him he joins you in your peak. Thrusts stilling, pressed deep inside of you. He spills into the condom as you rut your hips, still coming down.

Spent bodies collapse onto the couch, Jungkook refusing to pull out immediately. He’s basking in the feeling of your aftershock, walls still clenching ever so slightly. You can’t blame him. It feels good. Having him inside of you as he lies down, pulling your hips against his, kissing you. His mouth is tender, laving over yours without much hurry. A hand combing through your hair, softly humming, smiling.

He finally pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and slightly sore. Grunting, he ties the condom and makes a show of throwing it into the same mug you used earlier. It makes him grin.

“I’m throwing that mug out.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, I really do. It’s been tainted beyond remedy. I’m not drinking from that, ever again.”

Jungkook presses his nose against your temple, still grinning like a fool. “You’re so weird.”

You snort. “Says the guy who just three-point shot a condom into a mug full of cum.”

No reply follows, only comfortable silence. Jungkook and you just lie like that for a while. Bodies coming down, breaths evening out, enjoying each other. Slightly sticky with sweat, you let him grab the blanket and throw it over you. Your heart swells.

Could it be possible that you’re not the only one who feels something more? Deep down, you’ve always known he’s not just an asshole. You’ve just never seen that side of him before today. All this time you’ve tried to ignore it. To not let yourself fall for that trap. A guy like him isn’t supposed to be good. Yet, maybe you were wrong about him. And maybe, he feels the same way about you.

Taehyung isn’t gonna let you hear the end of this, but you can’t help but wonder if there is an opportunity for more between you and Jungkook?

“You know,” he says after a while, “We should definitely do this again.”

Your heart shatters. That’s it. Reality crashing down on you. Of course Jungkook doesn’t feel anything for you. He’s just out for sex and you should’ve known.

You scramble up from the couch. Jungkook sputters out something you can’t quite catch, trying to grab a hold of you. “Don’t touch me,” you spit. “I can’t believe you.” Grabbing your panties and pulling them on alongside your sweater, you put distance between the two of you. “Is that what I am to you? Just another cunt to fuck?”

Jungkook’s hastily putting on his boxers, standing up, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, but you don’t care to listen.

“That’s why you were really here, right? To get into my pants. That’s why you had the condom on you.” It’s all falling together now. How could you have been so stupid? “All the fucking whining about Yoongi, but you’re no better than him.”

“Stop,” he rushes, shaking his head. “Listen to me—“

“Don’t!” you call when he reaches for you, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to look at him. You try to wriggle away, but he’s holding you steady.

“Listen,” he tries again. “I—“

You shove at his chest. “Let me go, Jungkook. Fucking let me go.”

He obeys, arms falling limply beside his body. Expression going soft when he sees you’re crying. “Please hear me out.”

“No, Jungkook. You don’t get it. I have feelings for you. Real, non-sexual feelings. I don’t just want to be another girl on your checklist.” There it is. Out with the truth. Your breaths come out short and ragged. Harshly wiping your tears, you grab your leggings off the floor. Jungkook just stares at you. “I was stupid to fall for this act.” It’s true. He doesn’t date. Sex. That’s it. You should’ve known, you should’ve protected yourself. Should’ve never let him weasel his way into your heart.

Jungkook deflates, head falling, hair shielding his eyes. “I’m sorry that you think of me this way.”

What a pretentious prick. “Forget it Jungkook, I’m not buying it.” You look outside, rain still pouring down the window. “You know where everything is. I want you out before sunrise.” You turn your back on him and storm into your bedroom, slamming the door closed.

The contents of your cabinet click, something falling to the floor. Your tears only get worse. Feeling the cold of your room wrap around your worn out body. To feel the remnants of him still cling to your skin. The marks, the soreness, and the scent. God, you’re so dumb. You want to call Taehyung, to hear his voice and have him comfort you. But it’s two in the morning and his sleep schedule is shaky enough as it is.

So you just opt for a shower, stripping and getting under the hot spray to wash away whatever you can. You douse yourself in your favourite clementine scented body wash. But it does nothing to clean the fresh tears. Nothing can. The realisation that your feelings for Jungkook had gone way past crush hurts. You let your guard down and he drove a knife into your back.

Sleep, you think. You need sleep. You need to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. Wake up tomorrow and just pretend like this never happened. Even if you know it’ll be evident. You can pretend.

You dry off and brush your teeth. Three times to be precise. Ending up in bed wrapped in your favourite teddy sweater, warm and cosy. Your chest still aches with tears that no longer fall. Heart heavy. Like you miss him close to you.

There’s not much you can do but close your eyes and will your mind to shut off. You don’t want to think about him anymore.

The creaking of your door opening startles you right as you’re drifting off. He better be joking. You refuse to move, holding tightly onto the blanket, hoping that he’s just checking in on you and will leave. You hear the door click closed, and then the bed dips.

You hold your breath. Jungkook doesn’t speak. He lifts the covers so he can scoot under them and pull you against his chest. It’s not a tight hold, but it’s there. A strong arm draped over your waist, legs grazing yours as you pretend to be asleep. The feather-light gaze of his lips against your neck makes fresh tears appear in your eyes.

“Jungkook,” you croak.

He shushes you. “I know you’re upset with me. I just don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this. We can talk in the morning—if you want. For now, just get some rest.”

It’s true. You shouldn’t be alone, crying yourself to sleep. Even if he’s the one that caused it. You just don’t want to let yourself trust the gesture. He’s probably trying to make you feel less angry. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s appreciated, ill intent or not. Having someone here is calming, letting you fall into an unruly slumber.

The next morning, you wake up in his embrace. Closer, back pressed to his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. It’s so nice. Warm. Soothing. He’s a good cuddler.

Then, your entire body stiffens. The previous night coming back to you in flashes. Your bodies entwined on the couch, moans bouncing off the wall. You swallow tightly, lifting his arm.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. He must’ve already been awake, reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Should I go?”

Yes. “No,” you mumble. You need answers. To make the story whole before you force him out of your life for good.

“Do you want to—”

“Why do you always act like such a dick around me?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Because you won’t give me the time of day otherwise.”

You still, practically holding your breath so that you can hear every word.

“Every time I’m nice to you, you pretend like I don’t exist. When I push your buttons,” he sighs, “that’s when I get your attention.”

Attention? He wants your attention? Your mind’s running circles, afraid to turn around and see the look in his eyes and get swayed. Feel remorse for the pain you hear lined in his voice. That you can feel in the trembling of his hand encasing yours.

“Can you at least say something?” he asks.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He sits up, the mattress shifting and your eyes closing tightly.  “Sit up, please.”  Grabbing your arm, Jungkook gets you to reluctantly sit up and face him. Though you won’t look at him, eyes on your knees that nearly touch his. You notice that he’s still in his boxers, but he’s at least wearing a shirt. He doesn’t force you to look at him when he starts speaking again. “I want to be honest with you.” He toys with the edge of your sheets. “But if you’re not going to listen to the whole story it’s not worth telling you.”

Your heart hammers. Tears threaten to fall. Taking a deep breath gives away your nerves. You want to tell him he can’t ask that of you. That he doesn’t deserve that. But if there’s even a slight chance of a misunderstanding—something your heart hopes for—you have to hear him out. Even if it’ll hurt. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles. He’s nervous too. Breath shaky like his body, nearly curled in on himself. You never thought you’d see him this vulnerable. “Honestly, when I first met you, I was intrigued by you because I couldn’t have you. You just held up your nose every time I as much as looked your way. It made me want to know more about you. And the moment I did, it was over for me. I realised that you’re not just opinionated, crass, and entitled. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you’re such a good friend.”

You finally dare to look up. To see the desperate look in his eyes as he pauses. Shocked.

“I admire you,” he whispers.

“What?” you blurt. “You’re the one with the straight A’s, not me.”

He shakes his head in defeat, biting his lip and looking away. “The only reason I’m getting straight A’s is because I’ve taken these classes before. I’m not like you, I don’t work hard. I should be studying like you.”

You frown. “What do you mean, you’ve done them before? Do you already have a law degree?”

Jungkook avoids your eyes. “When I got out of high school at the age of seventeen, I got into a big university with a scholarship. The full ride. But I was stupid,” he croaks. “I wanted to fully enjoy the college ride. So I studied just enough to get by and dedicated the rest of my time to partying.” He says it like he’s disgusted with himself. Muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows impending tears. “I got arrested for underage drinking and lost the entire scholarship. Everything I had worked so hard for, down the drain.”

The words leave him pained, the regret for his past decisions clear in his eyes. Yet, he’s still here, studying this degree you know most students can’t afford. You have a scholarship too.

“So yeah,” he breathes. “I wish I had a little more discipline like you. I admire that you’re able to put school first. As much as I pretend to hate you just to get your attention, I like being around you. You’re a positive influence on people, including me.”

“So it’s my fault? For judging you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No, not at all. As I said, I was being an ass on purpose because I was curious about you. But when I got to know you,” he cocks his head to the side, “feelings happened. I just couldn't find a way to show you the better sides of myself. Which is partially why I showed up yesterday.”

“Huh,” you frown. So he did have ulterior motives? “How does that change anything? You still showed up here to sleep with me.” He’s talking in circles. You feel remorse for him, but you tell yourself to stay strong. His past doesn’t excuse his actions.

“I really wasn’t planning on sleeping with you. I wouldn’t do that to you. There just was no other way to get you to spend time alone with me. I wanted to show you a better side of me, hoping that you’d realise I’m not all bad and maybe would give me a chance.” A chance to what? “I like you,” he adds when you don’t respond, “a lot.”

What? He can’t be serious. After everything that happened.

“But I also care about you. I like being around you—bickering included. I genuinely wanted to help. I know how hard it is to start again, I didn’t want to see you go through that.”

You go silent. Trying to think over his words and not see the bad. To believe that he means it. He did help you after all. He studied with you for hours, never insinuating anything sexual. He was nice, comforting and believed in you. You never asked for any of that. And after all, you kissed him too. You could’ve stopped it. If he had just wanted sex, he wouldn’t be here.

But he is. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you say, grabbing his hand.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. For making you feel used. I should’ve just been honest with you.” Jungkook laces your fingers together. “I know it was a dick move on my side to sleep with you. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“I played as much of a part in it as you did. So let’s just—how about we call it even. Bury the hatchet?” You cock your head to the side, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. It won’t be easy, you’ll need to do a lot of thinking, but your heart wants to forgive him. To see more of his gentler side.

He nods, lifting up your hand and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”

The two of you get up after that, even if it’s a little awkward. It’s weird to not be bickering with him. You’re surprised that he actually cleaned the living room last night. There’s not a trace of him left aside from his clothes that are carefully folded on the table. Even that mug is gone.

“What do you want to eat?” you ask, reaching to the top shelve for another mug.

Jungkook comes closer. “Just coffee is okay for now.”

You turn, almost bumping into his chest, blushing heavily. Now that he knows you have feelings for him, he’s enjoying himself just a little too much. Smiling at you while you’re making coffee and some cereal for yourself. You eat in silence, browsing through your phone.

It’s when you get up to clean, that Jungkook speaks again.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing you back by the waist.

“Hi?” You turn around in his grip.

“You know,” he starts, hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “As much as I regret what I said yesterday, I did mean it.”

“What?” You chuckle lightly. “You want to do that again?”

He nods, and you catch a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “I do, a lot of times, if you want.”

You laugh, twisting away from him to put the dishes in the sink. “If that is your way of you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jungkook, then I must say you’re not quite hitting the right angle. Seeing what happened yesterday.” He can’t seriously be thinking you just want him for sex after all that. You start cleaning, even if it’s just to avoid having to look at him and admit that you’re shy. Thinking about what happened last night—the good parts.

Sighing, he turns off the tap that you had just turned on.

“Hey!” You turn it back on, only to have him shut it off again. “What do you want?”

“I’m not saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, searching your eyes like he’d done the night before. Like he’s waiting for permission.

You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. So you kiss him, just briefly. “Then what are you ready for, big boy?”

He laughs. “For starters, I would love to take you out for dinner after the exam that’s in,” he looks up at the clock, “six hours.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Don’t remind me.” It’s probably a wiser decision to take some time to think. See how you feel about this, but dinner won’t hurt. “I will still need some time to think about,” you gesture between you two, “whatever this is.”

“Oh,” his face falls. “Yeah, I get that. I just thought that—since you said you have feelings for me too.” Jungkook pouts. He fucking juts out his bottom lip and you haven’t seen anything more endearing in your entire life. Your heart does a weird little flip, and you know that you’re a goner. Even more so than you had been before last night.

Now you know that he is good. That he is worthy of a chance. So why not give it? Why would you sit around and let your mind think all sorts of negative things about him if you can give him the chance to prove to you that he’s a great guy. As he said, it’s just a date. Not a label. Yet.

When he turns away, you pull him back by his hand, slamming your lips to his. He grunts, both hands coming up to thread through your hair. The kiss isn’t deep. It isn’t anything like the way you kissed last night. It sweeps you off your feet, so tender and warm. When he pulls away, you’re out of breath and you can see the adoration in his eyes. You hope he can see it in yours.

Then, he pinches your butt.

You push at his chest. “Thanks for reminding me that you’re still an annoying brat.”

He chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips. “But you like me that way.”

“Sadly,” you grumble, winding your arms around his neck. “I do.”

Thanks to: @/fallinforkoo @knjkitten​ @yoongs-jeontae​ @wintaejk​ @guksweet​ @rynofpentacles​ @mikroparadise​ @jeonggukkiepabo​ @softlyjiminie​ Requested by: @/fallinforkoo + @hornyjailbonk​ + 3x Anonymous Taglist: @jiminskth​ @teresaisla​​ @yeontanie21​​ @tessanator97​​ @ladyartemesia​ @dayjeons​​ @djasheyash99​​ @the-rise-of-bangtan-boyz​​ @bbangtanlove95​ @zeharilisharaban​ @jungkooksgoodgirl​​ @topanga27​​ @pjmochii​​ @iwanttohitmyself​​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​ @bel-abysse​​ @jiminsreads​​ @jungkookspromise​​

© GguksGalaxy 2020 This is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to give an accurate representation of the idols included. Please do not steal, copy, redistribute or take uncredited inspiration from my work. 

[nerdyfangirl67]

With a Little Help From the Team - NCIS Reader Insert

Pairing: Tim McGee x fem!reader, Gibbs x daughter!reader (brief/vague)

Word count: 2717

Warnings: this was a pretty fluffy piece! (not gonna lie), mild language, reader is Gibbs’ daughter

Request: @ncisfan​ “Hello! I saw your post from this morning saying you didn’t have any requests for ncis at the moment and I wanted to make a request. If for some reason you don’t want to write it that’s okay but here’s my prompt,(Idk what to call it) The reader and McGee have been dating for years and McGee has to tell the whole team (Tony, McGee, Bishop, Gibbs. That team please!) including her dad (Gibbs, cause why not?) when he wants to propose. You can decide on if they say yes or no but I hope you’ll write it. Sorry if I’m overwhelming you I just wanted to make a request”

A/N: I know I’ve told you this @ncisfan​ , but I absolutely love this idea! And a McGee x reader? Yes please! I did put this in both McGee’s and the reader’s point of view and changed it up a bit. (Yeah, I got super involved in this one and it got longer than I thought…and took far longer than I thought) I hope you enjoy it darling!!

Tim stands in the bullpen, nervously trying to find the right words to tell the team about you, the team of which just so happened to include the one man capable of making him feel like a young schoolboy still wet behind the ears, especially since that one man had a lot to do with what Tim was about to say.

Tim takes a deep breath to gather his last bit of courage and confidence, which promptly fades away the moment he starts talking.

“I uh…well you know that I’ve been seeing, no dating…dating Y/N.” Tim stutters out as his nerves get the better of him, completely fumbling the carefully planned out speech he had come up with prior to meeting with Gibbs.

Gibbs narrows his steely blue eyes as he wordlessly nods his head, telling Tim to continue.

“Things have been going well, really well actually. And I’ve been wanting to, or meaning to…not that I was putting it off, because I wasn’t. That’s the last thing-”

Gibbs cut him off with a “Spit it out McGee.”

“What I’m asking is for your permission, no..that’s not - I want to propose to her.” He was speaking so fast, his words were nearly running together, his sentences jamming together into one that didn’t make much sense.

Gibbs doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he continues to stare at Tim, looking for any trace of deception in his face. “Why?” He asks gruffly, startling Tim.

“Wh-why?” Tim squeaks out, an uneasy feeling weighing on his chest as he tries to find the right words to answer a question he hadn’t prepared for.

“Yes, McGee. Why? Why do you want to marry my daughter?” Gibbs pauses, still evaluating Tim and his reaction. “Why should I want you to marry my daughter?”

Tim takes a deep breath, a sudden burst of confidence washing over him as he realizes that the answer to such a question was right in front of him. “Because I love her… honestly, I have for a long time, even before we started dating. And, more than anything, I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want to spend every day that I have left in this life showing her I love her and cherishing her the way she deserves. I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”

Gibbs surprises him then, with a small smile and a hearty clasp to his shoulder. “Alright then, probie. Now all you have to do is tell her that and of course, ask her to marry you.”

Had it been any other girl, McGee might not be struggling as much to find the words. But you weren’t just any girl. You were not only Gibbs' daughter, something that caused him far more fear than he’d ever admit (he was dating the boss’ daughter after all), but you were also close with the other members of the team, which made this whole ordeal all the more nerve wracking.

You had come to know the members of the team through your job as a technical analyst for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, meaning you spent most of your time hunting down case leads in a cubicle. Then, as you grew better at your job, and closer to Abby (who had had something to do with getting you on Gibbs team, although she’d never admit to it), you had been moved from that cubicle to a desk in Gibbs’ bullpen, unceremoniously joining the team, although not full-time as you still worked with the cyber/tech unit, your father thought so highly of (something he would never admit out loud, even to you).

You eventually became just as close to Abby as your father was, something Abby always attributed to ‘a Gibbs thing’, - “It must be a Gibbs thing because Y/N is just as great as Jethro and we just click.” Many times, if you weren’t working on a case, you could be found hanging out in the lab with Abby.

You and Tony were best friends, spending hours talking about movies and pranking each other. And, despite your “geeky background” of tech analysis, Tony never once teased you (a courtesy Tony had never given him). In fact, he had become something of a big brother to you, filling a role in your life you hadn’t ever thought you’d needed filled.

And then Ziva had joined the team, filling in little by little that hole that had been left after Kate’s death. Even with the high tension existing between Abby and Ziva, you and Ziva had hit it off right away, becoming fast friends. Eventually, despite the perceived oddness of your friendship, you, Abby, and Ziva became an inseparable trio, even occasionally ganging up together against Tony or Gibbs.

Suffice to say, you were important to the team, just as they were to you. And now Tim was faced with telling these people that he not only had been dating you (a relationship the two of you had decided to keep relatively quiet because of your line of work and the fact that you were often times coworkers), but that he was going to ask you to marry him, a proposal of which he was seeking the team’s help with.

“So, uh...I-well, I’ve been seeing, er...dating-” Tim starts, his mind scrambling as he tries to form a coherent sentence.

“McGee, the chickadee is out of the bag. We all know you’re dating Y/N.” Ziva says matter of factly,

“Cat, Ziva, the cat is out of -” Tony starts reflexively, before pausing and turning to Tim and then to Gibbs, his mouth hanging open. “Wait-what? You’re the one Y/N has been dating?” He asks incredulously.

Gibbs takes a step forward, slapping Tony on the back of the head. “Close your mouth DiNozzo.” Tony’s jaw snaps shut at the command.

“Keep talking McGee.” Gibbs says gruffly, his piercing blue eyes settling on Tim.

“I’m going to ask her to marry me.” Tim blurts out.

“We kind of knew that McGee.” Abby states, her lips pulled into a satisfied smirk. “I mean, you haven’t exactly been stealthy about ring shopping. Or buying the ring. Or getting it inscribed.” Abby lists off, earring a few incredulous looks from the other members of the team. “Y/N’s my best friend, okay? I had to make sure the ring was a good one.”

Tony turns to McGee. “McRomeo getting married? Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?” Tony steps forward to give Tim a good-natured shoulder shove. “You like it so you’re putting a ring on it, huh?” He asks with a Cheshire Cat-like grin on his face. Ziva is the one who moves to slap him in the back of the head this time.

“Ow, Ziva. What the hell was that for?” Tony asks, a hand already rubbing the spot Ziva had just smacked on the back of his head.

“When will you ever shut up and let McGee finish?” She questions, giving Tony a pointed glare. He opens his mouth to respond, but a hard look from Gibbs keeps him quiet.

Tim timidly clears his throat before continuing. “I’d like to do it here. And, um...I’d like to do it here, with all of you.” Smiles spread through the group at Tim’s words, several ideas already being blurred out by the more enthusiastic members of the team (it was Abby. Abby was already excitedly sharing ideas with the person sitting next to her, which just so happened to be Gibbs.)

——— You squeeze Tim’s hand before letting go, reaching for the handle to your car door. “See you at work.” You say with a soft smile before turning back towards your car.

“Let’s, um, let’s ride together today, to work I mean.” Tim stammers nervously, a hand on top of your driver’s side door, stopping you from leaving.

“Are you sure? I thought we were trying to keep this, us, quiet.” You ask, stepping away from your car and closer to him. He cups the side of your face with his hand, leaning forward to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.

“Just once, okay?” He asks quietly, a sheepish smile on his face.

You let out a small laugh. “Just this one time, alright Agent McGee?” You say with a smile, letting him take your hand and lead you towards his car. He opens the passenger door for you, closing it behind you before getting in the driver’s side. The entire ride into work is marked with Tim either giving you a huge dopey grin or a quick nervous glance, which only serves to make you suspicious, as if the insisting to ride together didn’t already.

Tim pulls into his usual parking spot, shutting off the car before turning to you. “How about we walk in together?” He asks hesitantly, a shy smile accompanying his question.

You quirk an eyebrow up at his question before responding, “Tim, it might make it pretty obvious what’s going on between us if we do that.” “Let’s do it anyway, Y/N.” He reaches over to squeeze your hand before climbing out of the driver’s side of the car and making his way to your side of the car. He opens the passenger door for you, offering you a hand to help you out, which you graciously accept. He continues to hold your hand after you are out of the car and as the two of you walk into the building, only letting go as the two of you go through security.

The two of you are the only ones on the elevator and for the entirety of the short ride, you can almost feel Tim vibrating beside you with some sort of nervous energy. You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to it before murmuring, “You okay?” He gives you a tight nod in response just as the elevator dings, announcing its arrival on your floor of the building.

You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Have a good day Tim, I love you.” You say, moving towards the open doors of the elevator. Tim reaches a hand out, grasping yours and stopping your exit out of the elevator.

“I, uh, I’ve got to give you something. It’s in my desk drawer, in the...bullpen.” He stammers out, quickly retracting his hand to wipe it against his suit jacket.

“Oh, can I get it at lunch?” You ask, turning back towards the front of the elevator and pressing the button to reopen the doors.

“No.” He shouts, startling you enough that you take a step back away from the sliding doors. “I mean, come with me?”

“What is up with you today Tim?” You demand, his unexplained, unnatural behavior causing your suspicions to rise, a million questions running through your head.

“Just...please.” His voice is thick with emotion, his words coming out barely above a whisper.

You silently nod your head, stepping back into the elevator and allowing the doors to close as you press the button for the floor that the NCIS team resided on. You spare a look over at Tim, whose is rubbing his hands up and down his slacks, his face turned towards the ceiling of the elevator and his lips moving in silent words.

“Tim, what is going on? You’ve been acting weird all morning and I just-” The elevator dings, announcing your arrival on the floor of the bullpen and effectively cutting you off.

Tim puts a hand over the doors, stopping them from closing as he looks at you, his kaleidoscopic eyes pleading with you to understand and to trust him. You give a small nod, taking his outstretched hand in your own and following him to the bullpen.

Right away, you notice the lights over the area of the office you’d come to know as your father’s, as Gibbs’, were off. A flash of fear settles in your chest as you begin to picture all the possible scenarios as to why your father’s part of the office was empty and dark, none of them positive. You start to walk faster, almost pushing past Tim, to get to the bullpen. You suddenly stop short when your eyes fall on Tony’s desk.

Instead of finding your best friend seated at his desk or even finding his desk empty, you see that Tony’s desktop is covered with picture frames. Your curiosity wins out over the rising fear in your chest and you step closer to the desk to inspect the framed photos.

“Oh,” A breath of surprise leaves you as you realize that they were photos of you and of Tim, taken at different times in your relationship. A series of pictures of the two of you from your second date, taken in one of the photo kiosks that you find at the mall. The two of you making goofy faces at each other in the bullpen. You and Tim bent over a computer, faces serious as you both stare at the screen. You turn to Tim’s desk next, finding it filled with vases of flowers in your favorite color.

You move towards them, leaning down to inhale their fragrant scent, your gaze landing on your father’s desk and the photos scattered across the desktop, similar to Tony’s desk, except these were pictures you’d taken of the two of you. One of the pictures from your first trip together, from the date when Tim had told you he loved you, and the first case the two of you had worked on together and a series of selfies you’d taken with Tim at various times; all laid out like a timeline of your relationship.

After a few long moments, you lift your gaze towards Ziva’s desk, curiosity seizing you as you find her desk almost empty. You quickly make your way to the front of the desk, your eyes landing on the single piece of white paper, with only one small paragraph scrawled out in the middle of the page.

Y/N,

I love you and I have something I have wanted to tell you, or rather ask you, for a long time now. I know you’re probably wondering what that question is, so if you’d turn around, I’d like to ask you it.

You slowly turn around, the paper clutched to your chest and your heart racing in your chest as your eyes find Tim’s. He gives you a small, honest smile as he takes a step forward, his hands clasping around yours before he kneels down on one knee in front of you. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize what is happening.

“I’ve loved you for years. First, as a friend, and then as a boyfriend, and now...now I want to love you as your fiance, and eventually as your husband. Would you, Y/N Gibbs, do me the honor of being my wife?” In his hands is a modest red velvet ring box, a platinum band adorned with three small diamonds nestled on the inside of the open box.

A lump forms in your throat and as you try to speak, to say yes, nothing comes out. Instead, you nod your head vigorously and close the distance between the two of you. Tim stands fully just as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in against you. You vaguely register noise in the background, noise you later learn is from the various members of ‘your’ NCIS team, as you feel him kiss your cheek.  

“I love you.” You whisper softly before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, savoring in the feeling of his lips against yours.

“And I love you.” He gives you a deep kiss in return, leaning in to cup a hand along the back of your neck. After a moment, you pull back enough to smile widely at him, the realization that this man would become your husband, the man that you got to spend the rest of your life with, starts to dawn on you, filling you with elation and excitement, not only for your wedding but for the future you’d had with the man you loved.

Tagging:

@madamsnape921​ @ncisfan​ @thisiscalm-andits-doctor​

[swtki]

Colours of My Affection - B.B

Chapter 1 - Red

Pairing: TFAWS! Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ content, oral sex (m), penetrative (vaginal) sex, angry sex, hate fucking, slight angst, swearing of course, degration, choking, slapping, creampie, unprotected sex.

Red; Passion, anger, love

She fucking despised him, and it only made matters worse when he purposely embarrassed her by flirting. Although she could strangle him, he made her knees weak in a way that no other man had. Still, when he fucked her over on a mission, she was ready to commit a homicide.

“I cannot fucking believe you, Barnes!” She shouts, throwing her duffle bag onto the floor of the common area. “You had no right to take me out of there, I was so close to getting within the walls!”.

“If I hadn’t retrieved you, you would have been killed and our plane would’a been shot down.” He scoffed at her, crossing his arms. She felt a certain way when he crossed his arms and he knew it. “You really ought’a show some thankfulness, princess.” That made her blood boil, fuck being a princess, she was a soldier.

She stomped off, slamming her door shut a little too forcefully. The rattle the walls made from the sheer force was enough to snap her back to reality. She was sick of being treated like a damsel in distress, or like a pilot at best. Y/N L/N had earned her spot on the team, and she would be damned if one 107 year old motherfucker was going to diminish that.

A knock echoed into Bucky’s room from the door. It was late, too late for anyone to want to chat. But, he opened the door anyways, shocked to see Y/N standing there in her thin t-shirt and athletic shorts. Being a man who grew up in a time of almost full length shifts, the woman in front of him was practically nude. She softly leaned on the door frame, “Aren’t you gonna invite me in?” He swallowed harshly.

“Uh, yeah, sure, come in. I guess.” He was no longer the cheeky bastard he usually was, instead he was a quiet and reserved man. “Gonna tell me why you’re here?”

She thinks for a minute. Why was she there? Something had lured her to his hallway, all the way to his door. “Dunno, thought I may take you up on an offer.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“What offer?”

“Y’know, since you tease me about us hooking up, figured I might as well. Since you’re useless for about everything else.” She batted her eyelashes at the much taller man, making butterflies violently flutter.

“Yeah? You wanna see how better off you’d be if you let me lead?” He steps towards her, looking her up and down.

“Quite the contrary, Barnes.” She uses her full strength to push the super soldier onto his bed, leaving him slightly stunned. “I want to show you how better off you’d be with me in charge.” The man chuckled softly, prompting her to climb on top of him and straddle his waist.

While Bucky was not usually in a position where his partner took control so confidently, he found himself not minding the lack of pressure on his shoulders. “You’re okay with this, yeah?” She leaned down close to his ear and said.

“More than.”

He heard her chuckle, bringing her lips to meet his in a chaste kiss. They pulled away, but her hands roamed his sculpted torso; Eventually she sneaked her hand under the thin shirt he wore. His skin was hot and smooth under her touch. Keeping her hand where it was, she sunk down onto the floor, causing his abdomen muscles to tense up. Her eyes looked up at him, clouded with lust and power. Of course, he had always found Y/N attractive; But, this side of her had him under her complete control.

“Want me to suck your cock, Barnes?” He nodded in response, earning a mockingly toned chuckle. “God, you’re so fucking stupid. Gotta use your words, stupid!” she ran her other hand along his leg, ghosting right over where he needed her most. Bucky struggled to choke out anything resembling a word, as his jeans were beginning to constrain him too much.

“Please, need your mouth on me, Doll.” He finally spat out. She smiled and tugged his jeans down, eyes widening when she was face to face with his aching member.

“Didn’t think you’d be this big, Barnes. You sure don’t act like it.” she held up her thumb and index finger, making a “tiny” sign. He rolled his eyes, propping his body up on his elbows so he could enjoy the show he yearned for. She slowly let spit drop out of her mouth and onto his pink tip, making his thighs tighten. She added a hand, stroking up and down at a slow pace.

“Need more, please.” He begged, wanting nothing than her mouth to be on him.

“Well, since you used your magic word.” skillfully, her mouth wrapped around him. She was sure that her jaw would lock from how thick he was, it was unnatural for it to be stretched open that wide. She made sure to use her tongue on him as well, taking note on how his moans got louder and louder. If her hand wasn’t keeping his hips down, he would have tried to buck them forward. She pulled off with a pop, leaving him slightly angry. He watched as she stripped for him, throwing modesty out the window for good.

“I need you to fuck me good, don’t pussy out like you did on our fucking mission.” She hissed, sitting back down on top of him.

“Be careful what you wish for, Doll.” He picked her up and sunk her body down onto his. He struggled to not move, wanting her to be comfortable.

“You gonna move, or am I gonna do all the work-“ she was cut off by the man pulling her body down to meet his, thrusting up with full strength. He pounded into her with a force that was sure to leave a mark in some way. “God- Not bad, Barnes!” she gasped out.

He stopped, quickly picking her up and pounding back into her on the nearby wall. He was the only thing holding her up, hands on her ass. “This good enough for you? You’re such a needy fucking slut, bet you’ve been wishing I’d shove my cock into ya’.” She felt the harsh digging of his nails into her ass as he growled. “Tell me how much you’ve wanted me to fuck your pretty cunt.” She didn’t answer, too lost in how good he was fucking her. “Answer me!” He raised his hand and before she could register it, she felt a sharp sting across her face.

“Fuck! Barnes, wanted you to fuck me like this since day fucking one, just figured you were too much of a pussy to actually do it.” He scoffs at her, quickly placing her face down on the hardwood floor. He positioned her ass up into the air, slapping it harshly as he slid in once again. She let out a yelp as he continued the brutal fucking. “So fucking good!” Her voice was muffled by her position, head so low that she was sure she would get floor burns on her forehead and cheeks. His left arm kept her hips right where he needed them to be, just up in the air enough so that he could take her from behind but still have her enjoy it.

“If I knew your cunt felt this good,” He grunted and struggled to keep his pace, “I’d’ve bent you over the fuckin’ counter a long time ago.” she barely heard him, too lost in the state of bliss he had caused.

“m’gonna cum Barnes.” She moaned, reaching her hand back to grasp the wrist firmly planted on her hip.

“Shit, doll - I am too.” His hips slammed into her ass with a force she didn’t even think was possible. Breathy moans filled the room, surrounded by skin meeting skin. She was practically melting into the floor, her bones turned to jello by the super soldier.

“Oh God! Please Barnes, please oh my God I’m-“ She was cut off by an involuntary moan and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“Shit, m’gonna fill you up, have you dripping with my seed.” his thrusts became erratic, then slowly came to a stop. He pulled his cock out of her, watching as the white liquid slowly trailed down her thigh.

“I’ll see you around, I guess.” She said as she slid her clothes back on, walking to her room with her enemies seed trailing down her thigh.

She still hated him, but at least he was worth having around now.