#If you’ve got any notes or something definitely lemme know

[unknownarmageddon]

yay :0

♧ Apocalypse Anon

OH hi

okay okay so here he is :]]]

[lanabuckybarnes]

BABYGIRL, Challenge for you:

Slutty little Drabble, kinky and the first character you think about.🤭🤭

| CottageCore | 18+ MINORS DNI

Everyone Knows to steer clear of the small cottage in the woods. Everyone except the Princess. Now she must deal with the consequences of her own actions — not that she’s complaining.

[More from Beast!Ari]

✧ Pairing ✧ Beast!Ari Levinson x Princess!Reader

✧ Warnings ✧ Size Kink, Dom!Ari, Rough PinV sex, Unprotected Sex, Dacryphilia, Breeding, Dirty talk, Squirting, Dumbification, Overstimulation, Belly bulge, Cum swelling, Knotting, A little Aftercare but definitely not enough for what you’ve been through - Any more lemme know!!

✧ Author Note ✧ Ohhh bbg thank you for the request, I’ve got a lil something for ya ~ ALSO my first time writing for someone that isn’t a Sebby character but @buckys-wintersoldier will tell you I have been OBSESSED with this man, I’ve written so many little drabbles about him and annoyed her with them 🤭🤭

✧ Word Count ✧ 799

Skirting about the palace halls unseen is virtually impossible when you’re 7ft tall. Yet Ari does it effortlessly. Each night since you invaded his cottage some time ago, professing your name and title he’s come for a piece of you. And every time he’s left you writhing underneath him.

You slipped on the silk sleep gown, sighing satisfyingly at the feeling of it draping down over your bare ass before slipping under your heavy sheets. Your eyes tugged downwards with sleep when the soft nocking has them snapping open again.

You should’ve been more embarrassed at the feeling of your slick arousal coating the tiny gusset of your thin panties. Behind the door, in all his glory was The Beast. Or as you’d come to find he preferred, Ari.

You’d heard stories of Ari from when you were a wee one “Don’t go into the cottage in the woods” this and “there is a hideous creature who calls that place home, people who have gone seeking it have not returned” that. You didn’t think the man eyeing you like prized venison was ugly at all, he was huge; his thin shirt ripped and ragged, barely covering his corded muscles each time he moved a little, the coarse hair over his chest and arms making your mouth dry.

Then there was that thing between his legs. You didn’t think you could ever go back to another man after Ari had plunged himself into you the first time, almost splitting your hungry snatch in two. That definitely wasn’t ugly.

✧ ✧

“Ari! Ari Ari” you moaned like a madman, hips pushing back to meet every one of the beast’s delightfully hard thrusts, tears flowing down your cheeks. His huge hand clapped over your mouth, thumb running up and down the bridge of your nose soothingly.

“Gotta be quiet little queen, don’t want the king to hear you” he snarled, sharp canines nicking the stretched skin of your neck as he pulled your face back.

For someone so concerned about your father hearing you both he certainly didn’t care about the loud squeaking of your thick mahogany bed, the headboard thumping dents into the wall it rested on. No, it was his beastly nature to have full control over you, that meant subduing your noises when he saw it fit.

Every time his thick, heavy cock pulled out a stream of your juices squirted onto the steadily soaking sheets, your walls singing at the small reprieve before squealing again when he speared it back in. Your cervix was most definitely bruised, the pain was almost too much for you to bear each time his plush tip kissed it.

“Aughh little queen, nothing but a village whore for your beast’s cock. What would your kingdom say when I pumped that belly full of cum, giving you my cubs…mmm shit squeezing me, you want your belly swollen because of me?” He groaned animalistically, his free hand pressing down into your tummy. His pace slowed for a second, a whimpering sound falling from his lips before he pulled you up into his chest, his paw for a hand grabbing your clenched one and pressing it to where he just had.

When you felt it you came undone, his head poking against your belly each time he sunk in; it was too much, far too much to hold back.

“Mmm flower you’re milking me, you like the feeling of me in there? So deep in that little body…fuck…oh little Queen beg for my come, beg for it inside that little womb” Ari’s voice wavered, his thrusts increasing to an almost impossibly fast pace and leaving you almost completely dumb with overstimulation.

“Want you cum Ari…fuckfuckfuck! Please Ari need you to swell me up please please ahhhh” you screamed, uncaring of volume as you came again with Ari, your vision going white as he held your body still, strumming your little clit as he filled you.

His hand moved with yours, running it over your now swollen tummy. His knot sitting thick and heavy at your entrance stopping any of his thick cream from slipping out.

He lay you on your side, his heavy body plastered on your back, his lips kissing up your neck before licking at your ear.

“Good little queen, all swollen with beast’s essence, make adorable babies…keep you to myself and make sure my queen is happy for the rest of her life” Ari mumbled, his settling finally and his arms holding you tighter.

You weren’t sure how much of it Ari meant, was it just talk from his high or was he planning on giving you everything he proclaimed? You weren’t sure and you were too dumb to think right now, but the thought of living in his small cottage away from the limelight, having his babies. It made you safe.

✧ ✧

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except on this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs & Likes are always appreciated. They let me know that you are enjoying what you read and give me motivation to write more

Thank you for reading~

[sapphicantics]

Two Sides of the Same Coin | Chapter One

Pairing: Regina George x fem!reader

Summary: After a nobody destroys the Jocks and insults the Queen Bee without a care or an apology, you get catapulted to the top of the social food chain next to aforementioned Queen Bee, Regina George, who now has to learn to share the spotlight with North Shore’s new bad girl. | Or alternatively, your ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude sucks you and Regina into each other’s worlds sending you down a path you never expected.

Chapter word count: 1.7k

Contents: vaping, underage drinking, mentions of weed, threats of violence, mentions of broken bones, shitty comebacks - I think that’s it, lemme know if I missed any

Note: Alright, I’m finally here with the first official chapter of Same Coin. Now I don’t know how often updates are gonna be for this fic but they will be coming, I’ve got so many ideas for it.

Intro - Chapter 2

— — — —

Menace is a bit of a crazy term to use to describe someone who sticks up for themself, but this is high school and everyone loves to exaggerate, especially boys with fragile egos who can’t stand the school knowing they got their asses kicked by a girl.

And when the girl is you — a girl who keeps to herself and minds her own fucking business like people should do any-fucking-way — oh, there’s bound to be countless descriptors thrown onto you to help rebuild their fragile masculinity.

Volatile, temperamental, crazy, psycho just to name a few.

You’re not sure how those are supposed to rebuild their masculinity, especially when you can just kick their asses and knock it right back down again. Despite those seemingly negative connotations that come with your new title, it does, admittedly, have a rather nice ring to it.

Anyways, nice ring or not, negative connotations or not, title or not, you’ve got far more important things to focus on instead.

Like why the fuck Charlie Hudson is in front of you right now.

It’s lunch and you’re under the bleachers with a strawberry flavored vape pen in hand. You take a hit and blow a cloud of smoke past your lips, raising a brow at him.

He doesn’t speak for a while probably assuming you’ll do so first, but you just take more hits from your vape and continue to stare at him. He approached you, he came over here to you, he’s interrupting your time so he must want something from you and he either tells you on his own or he doesn’t tell you at all. It makes no difference to you, but you’re definitely not gonna ask what he wants.

It’s only when you check your watch does he remember he’s on a time crunch and finally opens his mouth to speak. “I’m having a party tonight. I was thinking you could swing by for a bit.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, it’s gonna be a whole thing, you know?” No you don’t know, and that really doesn’t answer the question on why he’s inviting you or why he thinks you’d even want to go, but thankfully he continues. “Real big, real fun, real cool…” he reaches into his pocket, pulling his hand out and passing some cash over to you. “…really need someone to bring the Mary Jane.”

You tilt your head at him, looking between him and the cash before sliding your vape into your jacket pocket. You pluck the cash from his hands and flick through the stack. There’s a couple thousand dollars here — broken up into smaller bills because why not — a little over a thousand by your count, sixteen hundred to be exact, which is far more than you usually charge to supply a party, but if the rich boy wants to give you all his money then you’re not gonna stop him.

Perhaps, this might make you a thief to some, but really, what’s one more negative connotation added to your name?

You slip the cash in your pocket and nod. “I’ll be there at ten.”

He flashes you a smile as you walk past him and brush your shoulder against his. There’s no force behind it — okay there’s a little force behind it, not a lot though — but still he flinches at the pressure and you don’t miss the way he reaches up to rub at his shoulder out of your peripherals.

That reminds you that you need to make a few things clear. Well, one thing, specifically.

“Oh, and Charles?” He hates that name, thinks it makes him seem like an old man and what better way to ensure he knows you’re serious than calling him by his government. He seems to understand this as his eyes snap to yours and he tenses. “If North Shore wants a chance at making it to state this year, it’d be in your best interest to ensure your brother is on his best behavior tonight. Unless, of course, Lucas wants more broken bones. You got me?”

The bell rings behind you then, a seemingly ominous warning to the boy whose face is now alight with fear. You don’t bother waiting on a response, you know he’ll obey your wishes. You smirk and turn on your heels, disappearing into the school.

— — — —

You show up at 9:45.

Fifteen minutes before the agreed upon time, a rather gracious compromise in your opinion.

One you’re already starting to regret as you walk into the house.

The music is blasting so loud you can barely hear yourself think. The house stinks of sweat from the hundreds of people crowded around each other, dancing, singing, laughing, and making out.

Everyone is drunk — some way more wasted than others — but somehow they all seem to sense your presence and part for you like the Red Sea. Some of them even turn their heads to see if it’s really you before quickly looking away and whispering to their friends.

You roll your eyes at that and Charlie takes this moment to finally make his appearance, trudging his way out of the kitchen. He makes a detour once he spots you and after a quick greeting, he leads you out to the backyard. “You got the stuff?”

“What a stupid question,” you scoff. “You think I’d take your money and then show up to this party empty handed with this duffle just for fun?”

You shrug the bag off and place it on the ground between the two of you, unzipping it as you do so. Inside is a bunch of pre-rolled joints and plenty of bags of weed for those who prefer to use a bong. There’s some rolling papers in there so people can roll their own joints, but you’re pretty sure if anyone does rolls their own joints tonight they are not using the weed you bought — because they don’t trust you so they won’t trust the weed you bought, and also no one goes to a party without their own weed. On the off chance that they do use yours, however, the necessary supplies are there.

Charlie whistles at the haul, eyes wide, clearly not having expected this much from you, but that’s not really surprising.

“Damn, I knew you were a pothead but that’s pathetic even for you.”

It is surprising, however, that Charlie took time out of his day to summon an actual demon from hell to this party.

You say this out loud. On purpose. Because it’s your mouth and you’ll say whatever you want.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

You turn your head to see none other than the devil herself, Regina George, glaring at you.

“You fucking heard me, Regina. You’re a demon and you should go crawl back into whatever fiery pit of hell you came out of.”

“Yikes, someone’s feeling dramatic today. But if I left, who would teach you how to dress?”

You chuckle and shove your hands into your pants pockets. “Rather presumptuous of you to assume I would want fashion advice from someone who looks like a copy and paste Barbie doll.”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s adorable that you think your opinion matters-,”

You hold your hand up to stop any further comments and start talking over Regina, effectively cutting her off and shutting her up. “I’m so glad you said that because your opinion does not matter at all, not to me especially when I didn’t even ask, and acting like it does is only going to do you a disservice so I’m gonna go ahead and let you know - I don’t care and you can keep the rest of your shitty opinions to yourself.”

Regina scowls and steps into your personal space, pointing her finger at you, inches away from jabbing into your skin. She’s towering over you slightly and now that she’s so close, you have to tilt your head up to hold eye contact with her. “Listen here you little bitch-,”

For the second time in less than a minute, you cut Regina off, smirking at the little vein that bulges on her forehead. “No, I don’t think I will, actually.”

Regina is about to blow. You can see it in her eyes, in the way her shoulders are so tense, and if you can see it so can anyone else in the vicinity. You lean closer, lowering your voice to a whisper so only she can hear. “Be honest, are you just mad this shirt got to come out of the closet, and you didn’t?”

Regina’s hands are fast.

SMACK!

But so are yours.

You catch her wrist in your hand before her open palm can collide with your cheek, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the backyard. A hush falls around those outside and you feel dozens of eyes lock on the two of you.

Regina tries to pull her hand away and you tighten your grip in response - not enough to leave marks or to cause pain, just enough so she’s forced to stay where she is.

She glares at you, her eyes alight with fury and jaw tense. The air crackles with the intensity of her anger, and you can feel the heat of her rage radiating towards you. But there’s no backing down now.

“Enough, Regina!” you snap, your voice firm and unyielding. “This isn’t the time or place for this!”

Her eyes narrow, and for a moment, it seems like she might explode again. But you hold your ground, your own anger flaring to match hers.

“We’re not doing this,” you continue, your tone brooking no argument. “Not here, not now.”

She looks ready to argue, but you cut her off, stepping forward with a fierce determination. “Back off, Regina. We’ll settle this later.”

The tension hangs thick in the air, but she finally takes a step back and you release her, her jaw still clenched. Without waiting for her to respond, you turn on your heel and stride away, your heart pounding with the adrenaline of the confrontation.

You venture inside and slip into the kitchen, grabbing a beer. You down it in one go and grab another one for the road before leaving out the front door.

It’s gonna be a hell of a day tomorrow.

[stars-interlude]

Poison!

a/n: I know i said a gorou fic was gonna be next but trust its in progress 🙏🏾🙏🏾 ALSO I PUT MY WHOLE HEART INTO THIS ESPECIALLY THAT TEXTING PART 😵 ALSO TYSMMM FOR THE NOTES ON THE KAZUHA FICC I rlly never thought that my work would reach that many people 😭😭 again tysm!!!

★Pairings: Leadsinger!Xiao x Fem!reader

★tags/warnings: Band!AU NSFW not proofread! smoking weed, high sex

synopsis; After your best friend Hu tao invites you to her bands concert for the first time you see her members and u see the lead singer afterwards your talking to Hu tao and he comes up to you and invites you to his place..

[💿] now playing-

You open your eyes to see the ceiling of your dimly lit room. you sluggishly reach for your phone to see a notification from “Hu tao 🥁‼️‼️” it was something about going to a concert “i’m way too tired for this..” you mumbled. You put down your phone just to hear a knock at your door. you get up to see who it was and speak of the devil it was the one and only Hu tao “Hii.. you look like a mess if i’ve ever seen one” “Hello, how are you would’ve been just a bit better” you interject “Anyway did you see my text? It was about my bands concert.” you recall seeing her text but not really processing it “uh yea I saw it” “ well you’re coming right why aren’t you trying to plan an outfit its only in a few hours?” Your eyes widen hours you literally just woke up “hours? i got up a few minutes ago” “it’s 6pm…” Hu tao says as she walks in uninvited “i had a lot of things to do last night” you argued as you followed her. Hu tao gets to your bedroom at starts going through your closet throwing out things she thought fit the theme tonight. “no way this dress will look great on you” she says as she holds up a dark red dress. “Not bad ‘Tao I’ll wear it.”

When you get to the place where the “small concert” was you see a lot of people around your friend’s band while they played. As you squeezed though the crowd to get a better look you can see all the members which you’ve been introduced to some but you see the lead singer and surprisingly he’s really attractive, as your looking he looks back at you and of course you can feel your face getting hot and he makes it no better with that smirk on his face. For the rest of the few songs they played you avoided eye contact with him and just took photos and videos of the band to show to Hu tao later

Just as most people were leaving you see Hu tao running up to you “Hi, how did we do?!” “You guys did great you wanna see the photos I took while you guys played?” You can basically see the stars pop in her eyes “Of course I do, you know who you’re talking to right???” you pull out your phone to show her “we all look soo cool but why didn’t you take any pictures of Xiao?” “who’s Xiao?” you respond you’ve heard many things about Xiao but there was no way he was the lead singer “what photos of me..” you and Hu tao turn around to see just the slightly taller male.

"Hey, look who it is the man himself Xiao" Hu tao announced to you. Xiao smirked “Hey.. you’re that girl I saw when i was on stage. No photos of me? hm” He said as he moved closer to your face “uh well sorry you just weren’t my main focus” you shrugged “you were definitely mine..” Xiao muttered to himself “well here” Xiao says as he hands you a small piece of paper. Then he walked away “What’s that?” Hu tao questions “I don’t even know lemme look” you opened the paper to see a phone number with an address, you felt your face get hot “it’s nothing, nothing you need to worry about” you quickly slipped it into the pocket of a jacket you wore with the dress and you started to walk out with Hu tao

“you better not hook up with him..” Hu tao looks at you “who said I was?” you replied back “I’m just looking out for you” she says as she drops you off at your place “good night ‘Tao” you say as you open and walk into your apartment

As you walk in your place you think about what she said “not to hook up with Xiao..” you pull out your phone and begin to text him

————————————————————————

11:37 PM

[name] - Hey it’s Hu tao’s friend from the concert

Xiao- Well u coming to my place?

[name] - i’ll be there in a few

Xiao- kk see u

————————————————————————

You couldn’t believe what you were getting your self into but before you could process it you were already out the door. When you finally get to his place you knocked on his door and when he opened it the smell of weed made your head go blank “heyy I didn’t think you’d actually come” Xiao said fumbling on his words. You got to his room and sat on his bed his room was surprisingly clean you thought as you saw Xiao pull something out of a jar that was in a box. It was a blunt he lit it and took a long drag “you don’t mind do you?” he looked at you “no not really..” “come here cute thing” He said as he patted his thigh implying that he wanted you to sit there. You walked over and sat

He started to kiss your neck leaving marks all over until he got to your lips “you wanna take a drag?” before he could say anything else you took the blunt and took said drag afterwards you started to cough “slow down cutie little by little” Xiao said as he finally kissed your lips. He pulled away and picked you up blunt in mouth and put you on his bed you took the blunt and took another puff and you sat up to kiss Xiao as you two kissed you could feel his hands unzipping the dress you had on. when you pulled away there was a line of spit still connecting the two of you “Xiao.. can we do it now?” He looked at you and chuckled “do what? use your words” you whined it was embarrassing asking someone for sex “fuck me Xiao..” Xiao smiled and gave you a peck on the lips just before he put out the blunt that the two of you were smoking “poor baby so needy” the two of you started to get undressed and Xiao kissed up and down your body when he got to your chest he pinched and pulled your nipples

When he felt like he’s teased you enough he took his cock out and started rubbing it against you folds “oh fuck..” He hissed in pleasure and then he suddenly thrusted in “ngh~ more please” after you said that he went faster and way deeper than you’ve expected from a guy in a band. The room full of the smell of weed and sex had you going crazy “Xiao gonna cum..” you basically squealed. your back arched off the bed it felt like you were gonna pass out then Xiao leaned down and whispered “that’s all you got, there’s a lot more to cum come”

you could tell that this will be a long night..

extra:

when you woke up after Xiao fucked your brains out you got a bunch of text from Hu tao about where you were and you knew that it would be hard to explain it to her..

a/n pt2: xiao seems a lot bolder than i expected to write him.. well I hope you guys enjoyed that it took mad long to write 😭😭

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Begging for you to talk about OJV Stans and Marj’s friendship. Mari coming out to Stan first and whenever she is having a meltdown him always zooming to find Kenny or Kyle is so wholesome. I always head cannon that Stan would view Marj like a little sister so your interpretation of their friendship makes me so happy. I would love to hear more facts/head cannns about them :3

Oh my god first of all HELL YES OJV Marj and Stan, their friendship slays so hard and I love that you’re asking abt it!

One of the things about OJV Stan is that he IS the Dad Friend. By which I mean he’s extremely protective but also unequipped for actual crises, and is prone to inadvertently indulging in shenanigans. The way this extends to Marj? Lemme get goin.

So when she came out to him, bro was CONFUSED like “uhhhh why am I the first person you’re talking about this with? Why not, I dunno, Kenny or something” like Stan fully isnt the person to go to for advice but he IS the person to confide in (plus he gives really good hugs if u need them) and he actually cried when her answer was “I just felt like I could trust you is all” this sweet boy, if he doesn’t know what to do in a situation he’s GONNA find someone who will, so he went “what about talking to Kyle? He might know more about this than me?” And she read him for absolute filth lmao all “well speakin of, that’s why I came to you. You have your own little secret that you’ve been scared to bring up, dontcha” AGDGJKLH

Nah but seriously, their friendship is so wholesome, she frequently scolds Stan for indulging Kenny’s recklessness, he’s out here like “dude Marj that’s a pyramid scheme don’t fuck with that shit” (she winds up running it lmfao) and may not always be the most observant person, but he knows his friends and ALWAYS recognizes the signs of Marj starting to shut down, and she knows that. She says the word and Stan is finding her someone with the emotional tools to help. I also like to think that Stan COULD be one of those people. OrangeJuiceVerse Stan Marsh is actually very emotionally intelligent, but he isn’t confident enough in that to think he has any room to help others. It’s the same reason that later down the line he wrestles with taking on a sponsee.

A more fun note: in that first year of college, the trio of Marj Stan and Cartman are THE musical theatre gang. I’m talking they are DESTROYING karaoke. I don’t know why I have this headcanon but I do and I love it. Another is that when Stan gets in trouble with her he gets so guilty for disappointing her lmfao like out here looking like a sad puppy all “I’m sorry Marj Ken and I thought hanging off the roof was the best way to get the top piece of his sculpture attached” smh “don’t tell Kyle” “don’t tell me what?” Lmao

And Stan is SUPER protective of anyone in his group, plus he’s kind of a social justice warrior lol he isn’t confrontational as Kyle and Cartman are but he’s GONNA go “hey dude that’s not cool” call someone out for being a dick and he’s intimidating when he gets mad! Like OJV Stan is a BIG BOY he’s a gentle giant for sure but fuck with someone he loves and suddenly the golden retriever boy is SCARY. karaoke trio nights someone says something transphobic and he is there all “the fuck did you just say to her?” Now Marj and Stan are both the ‘muscle’ of their group. Both are tall and strong and could definitely fuck someone up. They don’t, but they could. Both are pretty gentle in nature which is super sweet, but they could do some damage if they had to. They’re a slay duo tbh

That’s what I got rn dude, thank u for the ask I love the OJV homies!!!

[snowandwolves]

hihihihihhi it's lengthy ask anon i am running off of too little sleep (nightmares still ugh) but also good news which is a danger combination lol

so part of how i've been dealing with my sleeplessness is rereading some of the lighthouse au until i finally feel fine enough to go back to sleep. so! questions. that you don't have to answer. really!

why did Bea never know she talks in her sleep? also, does Ava ever try to have a full on conversation with her?

Cam and Ava talk about the benefits of hugging a tree and with all the pine reference i have to know: has Ava ever hugged a pine tree??

when Mary almost asks Ava about moving in with Bea, do you think Bea had talked about it with her friends beforehand? like a am-i-being-too-lesbian worry?

what's something Bea and Ava eventually fight about? (and do they follow that "order" for making up)

do you think Chanel ever designs something for Jillian? how about Ava?

from last time - how you handled the main plot and subplots was amazing - did you have one of those (*virtual?) murder board-esque things to help visualize things? (*i'd never thought of using notion for fiction work!!)

i think i've reached my caffeine limit for the day i hope you are getting better sleep than i am! here's to having the crispiest vegetable of your preference! (i.e. not celery lol)

I’M ALIVE AND STILL EMPLOYED IDK HOW BUT OK 💀 hi hello, lengthy ask anon. how’s the nightmares? i hope they’ve left you alone? am i gonna have to have a Serious Talk with whichever god’s in charge of that? 😤 pls lemme know. but! i sincerely hope you’ve been sleeping since you sent this 🥺

and now (finally, idk how long it’s been), answers!

1. this… is a good question LMAO maybe no one brought it up to her cos she might get embarrassed? OR bea wakes up too early for anyone to catch her in the act 😂 and yes, i’d think ava would definitely try to have a full conversation with her like “bea, bea, what’s the weather like” and bea just randomly spouts temperature numbers and sea condition. or like “bea what’s your favorite sex position?”, which ends up with bea having a rather scandalous dream, much to ava’s amusement 😂

2. i’d say yes!!! except she hugs the smaller ones and ends up with pine needles everywhere. bea’s exasperated but ava just shrugs and says, “worth it.” on that note, hug a tree people. it’s fucking soul-healing.

3. oh, definitely. camila gives her twinkle eyes, mary’s like “what the fuck does that even mean, too lesbian”, and lilith doesn’t even dignify it all with a response 😂 which is to say… her friends weren’t any help at all.

4. i think it’d be something simple cos they’re good at talking to each other about their feelings. so stuff like ava leaving her shoes a mess by the front door, which means beatrice keeps tripping on them, or bea’s tendency to overpack, which almost makes them late for their trips. they’d snipe at each other because they’re human (bea: “what’s so difficult about putting your shoes away, ava?” and ava: “what the hell would you need a sewing kit for, bea?”) and probably get too irritated until one of them realizes it’s a ridiculous thing to fight about. probably won’t always make up through sex because bea got a concussion the last time she tripped on ava’s shoes and there was no time for even a quickie when they almost missed their flight, but someone will make a joke and they’ll laugh about it at least. (this… got unintentionally soft 😂)

5. omg, yes!!! what if they attend a gala and ava’s whole fam is wearing chanel’s clothes? literally A+++ publicity and just about launches chanel in the spotlight 😌 jillian in a suit and ava in a dangerous dress, what more can you ask for 🔥

6. lengthy ask anon, i had notion and phone notes and paper charts and i even tried using this free mind mapping thing just to keep track of everything 😂 i went full-on type A on this thing. i even had a mood board. and a playlist. and 2847293 drafts. i have so much content idk what to do with these now 💀

lettuce! i’ve been having so much lettuce! but omg pls, i really hope you’re sleeping well now 🥺 as always, thank you so, so much for this! literally the best thing to do after somehow crawling out of hell LMAO

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Dragon Quest

----

Roman is missing and Janus enlists Virgil and Remus' help to find him. Together they end up on a quest through the imagination, ultimately leading them to... a cuddle pile??

----

| Ao3 |

Next Chapter ->

Warnings: none (that I'm aware of, but please lmk if i need to add any)

Pairings: romantic roceit, platonic anxceitmus, prinxiety and creativitwins

Word count: 2519

Notes: Yes, this is the dragon hoard cuddle pile fic we've been waiting for. Unfortunately, that will be happening in the second chapter, which I have not written yet because I'm tired and running low on creative juice. I promise I'll get to it soon though! Keep an eye on this one :D

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“Remus!” Janus called as he walked into the common room. Just as he expected, within the next five seconds there was a hole in the ceiling through which Remus was hanging upside down by his tentacles. 

“You called?” Remus asked, “Whassup?”

“Have you seen Roman?”

“Uh… don’t think so! But I’ve been in the imagination with Bessy all day-”

“I’ve definitely seen him in the last three days.” Janus interrupted, “And it’s totally not starting to worry me.”

“Ooh-” Remus said, wincing, “You’ve looked in his room?”

“Obviously not.”

“His imagination?” Remus suggested.

“I searched for four hours, but I couldn’t find him in the kingdom or the forest, or the dungeons, almost got killed by a pack of kobolds.”

“Jeez, you good?” Remus asked.

“I’m not fine, I’m more worried about Roman right now,” Janus said, waving him off, “Any other suggestions?”

“The subconscious?” Remus said, frowning.

“We would’ve felt it if he went there,” Janus shook his head, “And Remy visited yesterday, they would’ve said something.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Remus nodded, “...The light sides?”

Janus frowned, why the hell would Roman go up there? Last Janus checked he was still very much avoiding Patton and Logan. Besides, his room was still here, it’s not like he’d gone back properly. 

“He could just be visiting Virgil?” Remus suggested, probably seeing the look on Janus’ face, he dropped down from the ceiling to stand properly on the floor. 

“Perhaps…” Janus sighed, “Do you think we should summon Virgil and see if he knows anything?”

“Eh?” Remus said, shrugging and wandering off towards the kitchen, “Go ahead, I’ma make a sandwich.”

“Don’t you dare,” Janus said, “You know what happened last time you made a sandwich? I’m not having any more fires.”

“That was Roman!” Remus yelled, “Last time I made a sandwich was with the sentient condiment slime!”

“Which is better how exactly?” Janus said, raising an eyebrow, they stared at each other for a moment before Janus sighed, “If you can promise the mess wont leave the kitchen, you can make a sandwich.”

“Fuck yes!” Remus grinned, “Promise!”

Janus rolled his eyes, “I’m going to search for Virgil.”

“Lemme know if you find Ro!”

—-

“...Janus?” Virgil said through the crack in his door, looking a little perplexed, “The hell are you doing up here?”

“Have you seen Roman?” Janus asked, Virgil’s expression immediately morphed from confusion to panic.

“No?” Virgil said, opening his door properly, “Isn’t he with you guys?”

“Neither Remus or I have seen him for multiple days.” Janus explained, “I am totally not starting to get slightly frantic and I was wondering if he was with you for some reason.”

“I uh- no I haven’t seen him, but- I can help you guys look-if you want?” Virgil said, putting his hands in his pockets, “I mean- maybe?”

Janus shook his head, "Absolutely not, I don't want your help whatsoever, it's not like you've known Roman longer than we have or anything." 

Sighing, Virgil stepped out of his door and closed it behind him, "Where's Remus?" 

"Making a sandwich and hopefully wrecking my entire kitchen, why?" 

"Because he can navigate the imagination better than we can- if you've looked around the mindscape then he's probably in there," Virgil said, leading the way down the hallway. Janus would have suggested sinking out, but he suspected Virgil needed time to mentally prepare to go downstairs. Despite Remus' invitation, Virgil hadn't stepped a foot in the darkside's mindscape since he'd left.

"I've already checked the imagination." Janus said, possibly a little too haughtily. 

Virgil turned to stare at him for a second before sighing, "His imagination is infinite, dumbass, you couldn't have checked it all, and you wouldn't have found him, especially if he didn't want you to, which is why we need Remus." 

Frowning, Janus followed Virgil back downstairs where they found that Remus, luckily, hadn't completely destroyed the kitchen.

"Hi Vee!" Remus called, waving before he shoved half a sandwich in his mouth all at once. Janus winced.

"uh… hey Remus," Virgil said, narrowing his eyes at Remus, "What- is that?" 

"PB&J!" Remus grinned, waving the second half of the sandwich - which was dripping jam and something that looked far too runny to be peanut butter onto the floor, "With pickle juice!" 

That would be it. 

"Disgusting! Anyway," Virgil said, turning back to Janus, "Is there any reason you can think of that he might have gone off to hide?" 

Janus shared a look with Remus, who shrugged. Janus sighed, "Not that I noticed… Did anything happen at the last meeting?" 

“Other than Roman having grown horns out of nowhere? Not really,” Virgil said, before his eyes widened, “Wait- that’s probably it, isn’t it?”

“Whatever do you mean, Virgil?” Janus asked, confused.

“Remember how when I got mine I basically took over part of Remus’ forest?” Virgil said, crossing his arms.

“Some of the webs are still there!” Remus said, grinning, “I made some funky spiders to fill them!”

“Right, and Remus went off and hid in a la- ohh…” Janus said, realising what Virgil was implying.

“So, if we can figure out where Roman’s beastie would be likely to hide, we could probably find Roman there too,” Virgil said with an exasperated sigh, “Seriously you didn’t figure this out yourself, Jan?”

“I feel as though I’m being unnecessarily mocked because I was worried about my boyfriend’s disappearance,” Janus said, crossing his arms with an annoyed huff. Virgil sighed and waved him off.

“‘Kay well if Ro’s a dragon then he’s probably in a cave somewhere,” Remus said, before gasping, “Oh! He has this big mountain range where all the dragons in his imagination live, he’s probably gone there!”

Virgil shuddered, “Are the other dragons likely to try and eat us?”

“I guess we’ll find out!” Remus said, grinning.

“I suppose we don’t want set off as soon as possible, then?” Janus said, raising an eyebrow, “Virgil, will you be coming?”

“Sure why not,” Virgil said with a sigh, “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Hooray!” Remus cheered, chucking the rest of his sandwich onto the side and running off. 

—-

Virgil didn’t know what to expect when the three of them walked through the big red and gold doors to the imagination, but it certainly wasn’t to have his outfit changed, his hoodie was replaced with a long hooded cloak featuring the same patchy style. He’d gained what seemed to be arm guards that ended in fingerless gloves as well as a loose grey tunic and tight black trousers. He was also a little surprised to note that he had multiple weapons concealed on his person as well as a bow slung over his shoulder. Virgil didn’t have a single clue about archery, but whatever, at least he wasn’t Janus.

“You look like a victorian woman!” Remus said between snorting laughter whilst Janus crossed his arms over an elegant-looking black and gold bodice with a white off-the-shoulder shirt with long white gloves replacing his yellow ones. Not only that, but he also sported a loose cape jacket and a bell skirt that stopped just above his ankles, where Virgil could just about make out what looked like riding boots under the mass of ruffles. Janus sighed.

“Looks like we’re on a quest,” Janus said, sounding like he couldn’t be less excited about the fact.

“Yay!” Remus cheered, medieval knight’s armour clanking as he raised his Morningstar to the sky. 

“Wonderful,” Virgil deadpanned, “Will one of you explain what the hell this is?”

“This hasn’t happened to you before?” Janus asked, seeming mostly tired.

“...no?? Usually my clothes don’t randomly change into something else when I go into the imagination?” Virgil said, throwing his hands into the air. 

Janus sighed and shook his head, whilst Remus leant on his Morningstar and shook his head at Virgil.

“It’s basically like, y’know when Roman does daydream mode?” Remus said, Virgil nodded, “It’s like that but even more… daydreamy, and in the imagination, we call it quest mode.”

“More or less, we have been assigned roles, and while it totally matters if we don’t go along with whatever storyline we are presented with going forward, there will be a storyline that will likely lead us to Roman.” Janus explained, crossing his arms over the corset. Virgil couldn’t help but notice how much jewellery Janus was wearing compared to the rest of them, a gold bar necklace, a silver chain that housed what looked like a ruby pendant, and earrings, bracelets and rings. Virgil was only wearing a black choker with a small silver moon pendant and Remus was wearing no jewellery at all. 

“So we’re heading for the mountains but looking out for whatever this storyline is on the way?” Virgil asked.

“Basically, yes.” Janus nodded, “I have no idea how easy it’ll be to climb a mountain in this dress, though.”

“We’ll figure that out when we come to it.” Virgil sighed, “Remus?”

“Mmh?” Remus said, turning from where he was attempting to shove one of the whimsical forest mushrooms into his mouth.

“Don’t eat that,” Virgil sighed, “Do you know which way we gotta go?”

“Oh yeah,” Remus nodded, spitting out the mushroom and standing up, “North.”

“...Which way is north?” Virgil asked, crossing his arms. Remus rolled his eyes and pointed down the path that seemed to lead them through the woods, which were much more fairy-like than Virgil remembered. If this was some fantasy quest like Remus had described, Virgil wouldn’t even be surprised if they were in some kind of fairyland. 

“We totally shouldn’t stick together,” Janus spoke up the moment Remus went to leave the path.

“You don’t say,” Virgil said, taking a knife from a holder on his arm guard and flipping it mindlessly from hand to hand, “And don’t go off the path, Roman’s told me enough about fae lore to know that, at least.”

—-

They had been walking for maybe an hour - Virgil was finding it difficult to tell the time - before the trees around them began to thin. Once the three of them were free of the forest completely Remus excitedly pointed out the mountains they were headed towards in the distance. God that looked… far. 

“You think we should’ve packed like… food or something?” Virgil asked, frowning. He wasn’t tired yet, not from just an hour’s walk through what was really a fairly peaceful forest, but the hilly fields and river valleys didn’t look like they’d be much fun to traverse. 

“It totally wouldn’t have been wise.” Janus said, taking a few deep breaths, “How on earth did Victorian women wear this every day? This dress totally isn’t incredibly heavy.”

“Jan just doesn’t like dressing like a girl,” Remus said, “Sexist.”

“I’m not sexist, you dunce,” Janus huffed, “I definitely have qualms about ‘dressing like a girl’ These clothes are just… incredibly practical for the amount of walking we have ahead of us.”

“Awee poor Janny, stuck in a big poofy dress,” Remus taunted, “This armour’s all hot and sticky but you don’t see me complaining!”

“Yes, because ‘hot and sticky’ totally isn’t something that you’ve mentioned you enjoy being multiple times in the past,” Janus huffed. 

“Guys shut up,” Virgil said, raising a hand, “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Remus asked, Virgil glared.

“If you shut up you might- woah!” Virgil yelped, jumping back as something swept down from the sky and snatched Janus - who didn’t even get the chance to so much as yelp - up far too quickly for him too see more than a red, white and gold blur. Once he’d realised what had happened, though, Virgil shaded his eyes, squinting up into the sky to try and get a look at the kidnapper. He could make out what looked like dragon wings, though they were much smaller than any of the other dragons he’d seen in Roman’s imagination before…

“Was that fucking Roman?” Remus yelled, gesturing wildly at the sky. 

“I don’t- that was- that happened too quickly for me to tell!” Virgil cried in confusion. 

“Welp we’re fucked, there goes the brain cell,” Remus said, putting his head in his hands in what Virgil was pretty sure was mock sorrow.

“Wait hold up- Roman has wings?? ” Virgil said, "Also excuse you! I have a braincell!"

“Uh, yeah Virgil, he’s a dragon, haven’t we gone over this?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“You never told me he has wings!” Virgil cried, throwing his hands up into the air before sitting down on a large outcropping rock, “What the hell are we supposed to do now.”

“Uh, duh, we go follow them?” Remus said, gesturing his hand in that direction.

“It’ll take us hours to walk!” Virgil yelled, head in hands, “What if that wasn’t even Roman that took him! What if it was that- I don’t know- that Dragon Witch character he created ages ago and Janus is actually in trouble?”

“Woah dude, ok first of all no-ones gonna get hurt here, this is Ro’s imagination, so it’s not even fun like mine, Jan has object impermanence plot armour bullshit like Logan does too,” Remus said, picking his nails, “So even if that wasn’t Roman, Jan’ll be fine, and if it was or not we should still go after them because of the storyline Janus mentioned earlier, remember?”

Virgil shook his hands out, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s gonna take us forever to get there.”

“Hey look,” Remus said in a mocking tone as two horses trotted out of the forest, “Horses that I totally didn’t just summon because I can do that too!”

Virgil eyed the horses suspiciously, “They’re not gonna like, attack me or- i don’t know turn into the demogorgon or something, are they?” He asked as Remus swung himself onto the back of the armoured black and white seemingly innocent shire horse. 

“Find out!” Remus cackled, “Now c'mon or you’ll be left behind!”

He thought that he’d rather potentially be attacked by a demon horse than be left totally alone in the imagination, so he - begrudgingly - climbed onto the back of the Andalusian and grabbed onto the saddle, suddenly realising that he had never ridden a horse in his life. Luckily the mare didn’t seem much bothered by his nervousness as she leaned down to graze the grass at her feet. 

“Remus?” Virgil said, awkwardly grabbing the reins. 

“Yeah, Virgin?” Remus called, having already started his own horse forward, “Are ya coming?”

“I uh- I don’t know how to ride a horse-” Virgil said, Remus rolled his eyes.

“Dumbass, it’s imaginary,” Remus said, “You can do whatever the fuck you want, you don’t gotta do it right .”

“Oh,” Virgil mumbled.

“Left-brained sides, I’ll never understand you dorks,” Remus mumbled as he urged his horse to continue walking. Virgil did the same - surprised to find that it actually worked - and together they set off to follow the speck in the distant sky that was Janus and probably-Roman.

Virgil really hoped that Janus, at least, was having a good time, wherever he was right now.

----

| Next -> |

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess (if anyone wants to be added let me know1)

I'm also going to tag @doteddestroyer because you seemed to have a vested interest in this fic in particular. hehe

[angsty-twihardxx]

Heartbreak Led Me Back to You | E.M

Chapter 5 | When It Rains It Pours

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 |

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary | You and Eddie were childhood friends, best friends even. When your life changes drastically you run away from Hawkins, leaving Eddie and Wayne without a goodbye. But when things go wrong she has no choice but to go back, a second chance for the two to finally admit their feelings.

Warnings | (18+) Adult Themes that some may find upsetting, mentions of abuse, alcohol/drug abuse, slurs directed at reader(f), swearing, angst, sexual references and eventual smut. Pls let me know if I missed anything x

A/N | Sorry it’s definitely been a while, I’m busy taking care of tiny humans,  and also working on an Eddie x Hopper! Reader fic ;) sorry if it’s rushed in advanced

Likes and reblogs are highly welcomed:) x

Taglist | @haylaansmi​, @aedicn​, @kimmi-kat​, @lil-quinnie​  (if you would like to be added to the series taglist lemme know x)

You should’ve suspected that today was going to be a bad one. From the moment your alarm clock stopped working, letting you sleep in for over thirty minutes. “Shit!” You exclaimed, jumping out of bed, getting Chris up and ready and out the door to the Munson’s trailer. 

“Y’alright?” Wayne questioned as he raised a confused eyebrow at his nephew, the both of them watching you fret over Christopher. Evaluating the current whirlwind that was you, merely a blur as you moved in a blur.

Sure, you had run late numerous times, this isn’t the first time you’ve bursted into their dwelling. You looked exhausted, most likely from the industrious work day you endured just yesterday. Not even giving yourself a day's break, needing to keep busy in order to be distracted from your ‘husband’.

“No time to talk– late.” Hastily you said your goodbyes, but not before stealing a piece of Wayne’s toast and running out the door before he could chide you into taking a break, to relax.

“That girl doesn’t know how to slow down does she?”

It was even better when you managed to get stuck at every. red. light. And to top it off, you couldn’t find a single park that wasn’t at least two blocks away. It really felt like the world was out to get you. Treading on the cement walk path you felt erratic, at the edge of a nervous breakdown. Maybe an intervention was what you needed. Just one more thing going wrong till you snapped.

The first half of your shift went slowly, any other day it would be a blessing. But no–you swore at yourself for complaining that it wasn’t fast enough, like an idiot. You seriously couldn’t enjoy the peace and quiet.

You realised you made a mistake when you got paged over to the ER. Then like a total shift in mood, it was so busy you didn’t even have enough time to gather your thoughts. Maybe this was just what you needed.

And of course it got worse. A part of you seriously wanted to be done with it all, to go home and snuggle on the sofa with your son and pretend that your life totally wasn’t falling apart. “Y/N? There's a phone call for you.” Amanda, today's receptionist called out to you as you were taking down patient notes. Worry flashed over your face, your brain began coming up with every worst scenario. The only person that would call you at work was Wayne, if there was something wrong with Chris. “Hello?” Your worried voice almost passed off as harsh, not that you really felt bad, with the day you’ve been having you couldn’t really care less. “Y/N? It’s Howard, we spoke on the phone yesterday?” 

Oh that's right, your lawyer, a Hawkins local who was very close friends with your parents. Someone that would help you just from the sheer fact that he considered you family. “Oh Howard! Yes sorry, I completely forgot. Is everything alright?”

“Well, that’s actually what I’m calling you about. I think it’ll be good for us to meet up as soon as possible. I was wondering if this afternoon would work for you?” 

“I mean, I finish in a couple of hours. Can it wait till tomorrow?” You tried to hide your agitation but you really didn’t have the time for this. “I know it’s inconvenient.” You scoffed lightly– yeah no sight. “But Michael is really trying to push this through. I thought you might also want to get this over and done with.” You realised he was right, if Michael wanted this so bad you might as well give in. The less arguing was better for your son. “Yeah okay, I can swing by after work.”

“Thank you Y/N, look how about we meet at the diner, it's more of a relaxing setting.” 

. . . 

You couldn’t actually believe this was happening, you were walking to go and sign your divorce papers. Michael didn’t even have the guts to come to you himself. He was the one that kicked you out and yet he’s the one that’s hiding away from you– pathetic. 

The door chimed as you walked into the diner, Howard was already sitting and waiting for you. He smiled an awful lot for someone who is handing you a piece of paper to end your marriage. “Did you want to order anything before we get started?” He asked over a plate of fries that were placed in front of him. “No, I’d rather get this over and done with honestly.” You replied uninterested, the man before you swallowing the fries in his mouth, dusting his hands awkwardly.

Noticing the heavy tension, Howard sighed as he retrieved the paperwork he had stacked neatly away in his briefcase. “If you want to keep this over the weekend to go over everything feel free, but please try and bring it to my office by the end of the week. He’s really been up our asses trying to get this all approved.” Howard adjusted his neck tie as he spoke, it didn’t surprise you– he was always impatient.

“It won’t kill him to wait for once.” You muttered, mindlessly going over the many pages, one in particular. It was hidden right near the end, a highlighted list, conditions. “Do you understand what this means?” Howard asked as he watched you gaze at the words in front of you. It seemed like all the words were in another language, you didn’t speak lawyer. “It means that you will have complete custody of Christopher.” He chose his words carefully, slowly. “I’m pretty sure I already do.”

“But you will be his sole guardian.”

‘Sole guardian,’ as in his only one, as in not Michael. 

“So what you’re telling me, he wants nothing to do with his own son.” Your voice was slow, precise. Feeling your stress being overtaken with anger. No– you weren’t going to let him hurt Chris like this. “These are his terms he had agreed too” 

“And if I say no?” 

“Look Y/N, I understand your upset but I recommend that you agree–” 

“No– Look Howard, you can tell Michaels lawyer or whoever that if he wants me to sign these, to grow some balls and see his son. Those are my conditions.”

. . .

Eddie sat comfortably on the sofa inside your trailer, a ritual for him when he watched Christopher for you. He never minded doing these things for you, he always did extra things like this– just so he could see that smile on your face. A part of him wanted the rest of his life to be like this, you, him, Chris and Wayne– their perfectly imperfect family. 

Yet tonight he found himself watching over the clock, and worrying about you– you weren’t here yet. You would always call him and tell him if minded staying and watching Chris for a little longer, and he always accepted. If it weren’t for Christopher telling him how he tired he was, Eddie would probably be alright, he totally felt out of his league. 

“What’d’ya need buddy?” Eddie croaked, kneeling down towards the small child before him who tiredly rubbed his eyes. “M’tired Eddie.”

“Yeah, okay–uh how does your mum usually put you to bed? Brush your teeth then bed?” Eddie let out a breath he was holding when Chris nodded, his small lips pushed together in a pout. Eddie thanked whatever gods for the few times you would briefly get Chris ready for bed when he was there for dinner.

“C’mon bud, let’s  get you to bed, yeah?” 

“Is mummy going to do it?”

“Uh, not tonight buddy, but she’ll be home soon. I’ll tell her to tuck you in when she does, alright?” Chris nodded sleepily, happy with his answer. He let out a tired yawn as he finished in the bathroom, holding his arms out for Eddie to pick him up off the counter– simply too tired to walk. 

. . .

Bright headlights shone into the glass window of your trailer, where Eddie laid awake on your sofa, the tv dribbling a bright white light over his slumped figure. He lifted his head off the pillow, waiting to see your figure walk through the door. When he heard the car turn off but no footsteps he sat up properly, maybe you were waiting for him to barge out and scream at you for being late, from what you had told him anyway it sounded like a recurring theme. 

He waited a few more minutes for you patiently, maybe you just needed a minute, work has been busier than usual. And you did seem really rushed this morning. Okay, maybe more than a minute, had you fallen asleep in your car?

With a groan he reached up to his feet, giving himself a moment to adjust to being vertical. As his feet hit the wooden planks that was your patio, his eyes squinted as he looked for your silhouette. When he didn’t he frowned with concern, making his way to your car. 

When he got closer he still couldn’t see you, but he could hear you. The muffled sound of sob coming from the back seat, “Y/N? Oh sweetheart.” He sighed deplorably, taking in the sight of you. Your small frame crawled into your chest as you hugged your knees, sobbing into your lap. Your face leaned into the crease of the seat, your back to Eddie who leaned into the car.  His saucer eyes took in how defeated you looked, he wished he could make everything better. “Come on, let's get you inside sweetheart.” He patter your thigh, using his other hand to beckon you out with him.

With a sniff and a quick wipe of your tears you joined him, not yet ready to say anything about the horrible day you’ve had. You wanted to just enjoy being next to him. Eddie, being the perfect gentleman that he is, opened the door for you. Bowing and extending his arm for you, a small huff of air fell from you, Eddie could swear that he just made you laugh– but you weren’t going to let his ego get to his head. 

“You go lay down, y’want some water?” Eddie asked softly, taking another step towards you lifting his larger hand to gently tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. You took a deep breath, taking in the familiar smell that was Eddie. The faint smell of cigarettes lingered behind what was unrecognisably your son's strawberry scented toothpaste. You chuckled at the thought of Eddie helping your son brush his teeth. “Sorry I was late, that you had to put Chris to bed on your own.”

“Stop apologising! We had a wonderful time, even when Chris managed to get his toothpaste in my hair.” Eddie chortled as he placed his hands on your shoulder, guiding you slowly through the hallway towards your room. Knowing you, you’d probably stay up all night being upset, a habit of yours since you were a kid. “But I’m his mum, it should be me doing it.” You sighed as you fell onto the edge of the bed, watching Eddie as he did a quick take of your room. He hadn’t been in before, no reason until now to go in. It was– plain, it wasn’t loud with colour like your sons, devoid of any personality. “Hey, that doesn’t mean you have to do everything on your own, you’ve got me and Wayne.” Eddie quickly moved to sit beside you, his words came from a warm place, you knew that.

Though you couldn’t help the sad feeling coming back again, because you were going to be on your own. Even if you didn’t always get along you at least had Michael, he was at least there for Chris, but now he was leaving the both of you for good. Eddie and Wayne meant well but it was different, you couldn’t expect them to do everything. It just wasn’t the same. And here comes the tears again.

“You don’t get it, I am on my own, I always have been. My own parent’s left me and now my husband is leaving me!” You sobbed into your own, not caring how silly you looked. 

But Eddie never thought you looked silly, ever. Instead he held onto you tightly, bringing you into his chest. “C’mon, why don’t you tell me what’s going on love?” His voice was soft, contrasting his usual brass voice, his hand rubbing comforting circles on your back. “Michael filed for the divorce, which is fine- he’s an asshole. But he wants nothing to do with Chris, like absolutely nothing.” You cried into Eddie’s shirt, a damp patch developing on his shoulder. For a moment, Eddie didn’t know what to say to you that would make you feel better. “Shit, Y/N I’m so sorry.” 

There was a beat of silence for a moment, the two of you just holding yourself close to one another. “But uh- you know that I’m always going to be here, no matter what.” 

“Eddie, could you stay here with me tonight? I don’t want to be on my own.” 

In that moment, all Eddie saw was you when you would tap on his window late at night in the pouring rain. When it seemed that the world was against you, you could always come to Eddie without judgement. He would without a doubt always capture you in his warmth, the safety that was always Eddie. 

“Of course.”

. . .

You didn’t have the strength to endure a warm shower, you knew that tomorrow morning it would be all the more rewarding to feel the scalding water on your skin. You did at least change into your pajamas though, retreating to the privacy of your bathroom to change. 

Eddie then slid into the bed beside you as you returned, your bodies were inches from one another, but not touching. You could still feel the heat radiating from his body, you wanted nothing more than to touch him, have him touch you all over. 

Instead you rolled over to face him, the moonlight casts a white glow over his cheekbones that bunched together into a smile. The two of you looked into one another, waiting to see what would happen next, no one daring to make a move. “It’s been a while since we’ve done this, hey.” You joked making Eddie chuckle, his movement made your arms graze on another. Your arm burning at his touch, you craved his contact.

 Eddie must’ve known this, reaching his arm out over your shoulder and pulling you into his chest. His lips finding its way to the top of your hair. “Eddie,” you reprimanded, “I probably smell like a hospital.” You whined into his chest, hearing him take a deep inhale pressing his nose into your hair, making you laugh. “No you don’t, you smell like Y/N.” 

“Oh and what do I smell like?” You dared him to answer, raising your head out of his chest to look at him. “Well, you uh smell like–” He dragged out, taking another whiff. “Hmm, I’m getting a hint of watermelon?” 

“That would be my shampoo Eddie.” You giggled into him again, just enjoying this. The two of you are tangled in Eddie's arms, totally just enjoying being next to one another. Eddie let out an astonished ‘ah’, like you had just given him an important piece of information. 

The two of you laid together silent, for the short moment you saw his lips under the small light and wandered what it would be like to have them on yours.

“Hey Eds, what do you think you would do if I kissed you right now?” Your question took him by surprise, freezing him in his spot. Hell, you even surprised yourself. He hoped that you wouldn’t hear how fast his heart rate accelerated. “I uh- we ah– why do you ask?” He stuttered, you had completely taken him aback. Suddenly feeling embarrassed you tried to take it back, “You can say no Eddie, y’know if you don’t want t–” 

“No, I–I want too, trust me. It’s just your feeling alot of emotions right now, I don’t want you to regret it later is all.” 

“I’ve wanted to for years, I think I’ll regret more if I have you here with me and don’t kiss you.” You spoke truthfully, your face still pushed against Eddie's chest, your eyes watching for his reaction carefully. Just waiting to see how he would react, the smile that grew on his cheeks settled your panicking heart. “So this was all a huge scheme to get me in your bed? Wow Y/N, I can’t say I would expect this from you.” He feigned offence as he gently pushed you away from his embrace, making you let out a shriek. “Okay, you know what?”

You grasped his cheeks in your hands and pulled his lips onto yours. Kissing him was everything you had always thought it would be, messy, hungrily. He leaned forward, deepening the kiss.

He answered your question by wrapping a strong arm around your waist, lifting up against him. You snake your arms around his neck, about to pull yourself on his lap when you feel his hands gripping yours. Eddie gently pulled away from you, a quiet sigh escaping from your agape mouth. “Hey, as much as I enjoyed that,” He threw a playful smile your way, minimising the embarrassment. “Let’s just take it easy tonight, yeah? I just want to enjoy having you close to me. Also you're still technically married.” He threw a gentle chuckle your way, letting you know– this is okay. 

You nodded, contempt with yourself as you scooted back facing him, allowing Eddie to wrap his arms around your middle. His head now tucked into the crook of your neck, god you’ve waited so long for this. 

“Night Eddie.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

[wemeetby-accident]

Sunshine made a mental note to heavily disinfect her shoes once she’s back on her side of the base. Dried vomit is caked on the laces of her boots - thank god she wore her boots - and it made her skin crawl. But she can’t take care of it now, not while she’s got to scribe for Xavier.

He’s the source of the vomit, heavily concussed after the run-in with a monster. Her own blood is mixed in there too, along with Xavier’s, but she’s less concerned with the injury at her throat. Xavi was what mattered.

Lark had tried to give her enough warning, but Xavier was too big, and while leaning on her puked right onto her feet.

“Absolutely disgusting, Xavi,” she hissed, trying to hold him up.

“You can’t be holding me up?” he slurred, not realizing Lark was on the other side. He simply stared right at Sunshine, confused.

“Definitely concussed,” Lark sighed, shaking his head.

They managed to drag Xavier to the medical wing, where it was confirmed: yeah, Baby has a concussion. A pretty severe one, at that. The lights bothered his eyes and his long limbs proved to be an issue, causing him to be clumsy as he nearly tripped over his own feet.

“You’ve got to get the report in before this gets any worse,” the doctor had sighed, ushering the trio into a private room where the lights could be dimmed. “But he —“ a finger jabs out to a grinning Xavier as Lark ushered him to the bed — “cannot type it. No screens, nothing until a further evaluation can be done.”

“And that will be…?” Sunshine asked, hesitant. Another medic started tending to Xavier’s wounds, shooing Lark away.

“Dunno.” The doctor shrugs, as if there were other more pressing matters at hand. “A few hours at least. You can do it here, while we’re waiting and can watch him.”

Sunshine nodded. Great.

So she’s supposed to write the classified report…?

The Lieutenant wouldn’t know, right?

“Xavier, tell me how to start this…” Sunshine asked, sitting in a chair pulled close to the side of the bed. Her hands shook slightly as she stared at the file.

“Why write? Come an’ sit wi’f me.” He patted the bed, grinning.

“Xavier, I can’t. You - I - have to get this report in. We do,” she sighed, shaking her head. She’s got a bandage at her throat now, having been seen to before the medics disappeared elsewhere.

Lark had gone for a run, so it was just the two of them in the dark room.

“Nah.”

“I’m already going to be in trouble, Xavi, can we please -“

“Fine. Fine. I’ll be in trouble instead,” Xavier offered with a grin.

Her shoulders dropped - there was no arguing with him. Sunshine skimmed the file format again and grimaced. She had no clue how to fill this out. How could she? She shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place. Someone who was classified needed to be doing this, but seeing as Xavier was asked to do it now rather than later? There was no time to find the Lieutenant and explain what had transpired.

“I’ll start from the beginning, then,” she said aloud, chewing at her inner cheek.

“We’d found something on KorTac,” Xavier added, almost absentmindedly answering her question.

If she needed an opportunity to prompt him, this was it. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, nodding.

“We had, yeah,” Sunshine hummed, hoping it would cause him to continue.

It did.

For the better part of a half-hour, Xavier’s every word - for the most part, anyway - was written down.

Sunshine didn’t change the overall report. She didn't even include her own perspective of the events, which in hindsight was absolutely terrifying. Her hands went to the bandage at her throat as a chill ran down her spine.

“Lemme see,” Xavier asked, trying to lean over the bed to the see the laptop screen.

“Xavier, you’re not supposed to be looking at screens.” Sunshine chided him, closing the laptop partially.

“But I wanna see what you wrote,” he frowned, looking right at her.

“I just wrote down what you told me.”

“Yeah, but I wanna read it.”

“Xavi, please, we just need to get this done.”

“Isn’t it done?”

“No, I - I don’t know how to fill out the bottom portion of this document. It’s got a bunch of abbreviations,” Sunshine sighed, shrinking into herself. “And then we have to get it to the Lieutenant and —“

“The Lieutenant…” Xavier all but sighed, grinning once again.

“Xavier please - just tell me how to fill it out and then we can —“

“And then we can what?” A new voice joins the conversation - but Xavier doesn’t notice, repeating:

“And then we can…?” His eyebrows are raised, expecting an answer from Sunshine that perhaps wasn’t entirely work-appropriate.

But Sunshine froze, the tremor back in her hands. “L-Lieu - Lieutenant!”

“We can do — ohhh.” The voice finally registered in Xavier’s head and he wobbled to sit up straight. “Oh.”

“I - I can explain everything, really -“ she started, closing the laptop completely and standing from the chair.

The little bit of light in the room reflected off the Lieutenant’s glasses. Sunshine hadn’t really interacted with them much - not in this kind of situation - but knowing what she’d done made her brace for whatever came next.

“The medics informed me that the Corporal has a concussion.”

“That’s correct,” she offered shyly, standing in front of the bed in an attempt to block Xavier. (Little good it did, as he towered over her even in a sitting position.)

“Why wasn’t I informed of this, Analyst Davar?” Their tone was clipped, disappointed even.

“The - The doctor, he said that the report needed to be completed immediately, before Xav — the Corporal’s symptoms got worse. He uh - he said I should do it, since screens are bad for a severe concussion. Light in general, too. It’s why it’s dark in here.” Sunshine barely managed to get the words out of her mouth, wanting to fold into herself or even slide underneath the hospital bed Xavier was on.

“So you, Analyst Davar, took it upon yourself to scribe classified information into a classified document template at the request of a medical professional?”

“That’s correct, Lieutenant.”

“And you currently have a bandage around your neck because…?”

“B-Because I was present for - for the incident in which the Corporal received his concussion.” There was no point in hiding it.

“So not only did you transcribe classified information, you were present? In the field?”

“Not because of Operator Tanaka or the Corporal. There was - it’s.. I transcribed his report. Everything from the Corporal’s point of view is in there, Lieutenant. I didn’t change anything he told me. And! And please.. None of this is their fault.”

The K95 mask hid how the Lieutenant’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Operator Tanaka was involved?”

Before Sunshine could answer, Xavier unceremoniously threw up.

“Hey LT…” Xavier offered weakly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He smiles almost dumbly before gagging again. “I don’t feel so good.”

Sunshine saw and escape and ran for it. “I’ll go get the doctor, Lieutenant. They’ll want to know he’s vomiting again.” The scent of vomit filled her nostrils and it - along with the impending doom circulating through her system - made her stomach turn.

“Again?” An eyebrow twitched for a brief second before they shook their head. “Corporal Wolffe, is she correct?”

“Yeah.” In the darkness of the private room he nods, smile still lopsided. “Sunshine’s got vomit on her shoes. Shoul' be my vomit.”

“Analyst Davar, you are dismissed. I’ll handle his medical needs - and the report. Do not speak of this to anyone besides myself, Operator Tanaka, and…” Lieutenant Rockanstansky peered down at her before turning their attention to a woozy Xavier. “Corporal Wolffe, once he’s recovered. This is a security issue and I will be treating it as such."

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Sunshine breathed out, leaving the laptop behind. She knew better than to take it with her and compromise her job even more.

“Bye Sunshine!” Xavier called out, waving as the shape he assumed was her left the room.

Oh, she was in so much shit.

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not so sure. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

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

Oh, you loved this man. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 

“I thought he was cool before.” 

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 

Of course. 

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 

And you’re all too ready to act on it. 

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true. 

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[wri0thesley]

nat! i know you've written a lot of "walking in on reader masturbating and moaning their name" headcanons for JoJo. can i ask for some with the Jujutsu Kaisen boys? (I don't know what your rules are for amount of people in JJK but maybe Gojo, Nanami, Getou and Toji? Sukuna and Mahito if you're feeling those too!)

oho anon, this is one of those tropes i can never get tired of writing

♡ Gojo probably knew what was going on before he even walked in on you. Very little slips by him, and even less slips past his Six Eyes; he’s probably noticed how your eyes seem to slide over him and then you perhaps wet your lip, shift a little. He’s used to being the subject of adoration; he finds the fact you obviously have a crush on him adorable. Alright, he hadn’t realised just how far your crush had gotten - but he’s cocky enough that he can’t blame you. Still. He makes a big deal about throwing open the door, opening his mouth as if to say something-- a smirk on his lips as you pull up the covers of your bed, embarrassment flooding your face. The door is closed behind him. He lifts his blindfold enough that you’re once again captivated by those eyes with their shifting galaxies and constellations - his mouth looks so inviting, and your body (so close to your release, and yet so far) gives a throb as if to say ‘you haven’t finished yet’. You don’t know if the fact that Gojo hasn’t said anything is a good thing or a bad thing, and you take a long, shuddering breath. 

His lips stretch into a grin. He moves towards you quickly, already pulling off his clothes - again, he’s cocky enough to think that you won’t say no. When he lands on your bed with a thump, he’s immediately caging your body underneath his, all bright, manic energy.

“Was I good in your head, doll? Because lemme tell you, it won’t compare at all to the genuine article--”

- ♡ -

♡ Nanami is a gentleman to the bone. He probably heard his name and opened the door, thinking you were calling for him - not expecting to see your eyes closed, your thighs pressed with your hands between them, your chest heaving. He actually panics a little at first; his first instinct is to close the door immediately, pretend this has never happened (and probably touch himself to the thought of it later, because he can already feel his body responding). It’s the sigh, the cant of your hips, the muffled whimper again of “Kento--” coming out of your mouth that makes him stay. He’s been hankering after you for months, never imagining that you’d feel the same way--

He clears his throat and your eyes snap open. There he is; the object of your fantasies, in his neat shirt and tie, removing his glasses and looking at you with those sharp, incrutable eyes. At first, you think he is going to chastise you for being so unprofessional. And then, he takes a step towards the bed, and then another. His eyes linger over your skin, and it feels as though Nanami is taking in more than just your sweaty, needy form. 

“I--I’m more than willing to help with that,” he says, eventually. “If you’re amenable.”

Oh. You sure are. 

- ♡ -

♡ Geto will be polite. He’s polite in a smug way, though - taking his time to look over your form before you notice he’s there. Like Gojo, he’d have seen you looking at him - encouraged it with a slow smile, a hand on your shoulder that perhaps lingered a little too long. He thought you would break for him eventually, but he never imagined that it would happen like this - not that he’s complaining.

You know he’s there because he murmurs your name, like he’s rolling something delicious in his mouth, like he’s savouring catching you like this. Still, never let it be said he isn’t chivalrous - when you go to apologise, already burning, Geto smiles at you indulgently. 

“You could have just asked,” he says to you, raising one perfect eyebrow. “Would you like to do that now?” Getou would like to hear you say it; wants it to spill from your lips the same way he just heard his name doing. If you don’t ask him, he probably will simply smile that inscrutable smile of his and leave. Thankfully, you choose the right option. You whimper out a soft plea for some assistance, now that you know that he’s pleased to have found you in this state--

“Ah,” he says, as he reaches a hand to his chin, cupping his face, tilting it to one side. “Good. If you’ll allow me - I can think of something that might feel better than your fingers--” 

- ♡ -

♡ Toji is going to make the most of this. Toji is utterly shameless - the thing that alerts you to his presence is a low laugh, cigarette-rough and whisky smooth. You immediately open your eyes, press your legs closer together, bite your lip - only for Toji to move closer towards you (not closing your door), like a wolf stalking a rabbit. He’s not just moving towards you like a predator - he’s looking at you like one, sizing you up, caressing every single inch of your body bared for him (he’s been doing that for months, imagining under your clothes - might as well get a fair look at the real thing). There’s that laugh again, when you hopelessly reach for the covers to tug them over yourself only to be stopped by one of Toji’s big hands. 

“Aww, no need to get shy now, sweetheart. I don’t mind lookin’ at ya.”

His hand on yours travels up your arm, sending sparks of fire through you - making your heart beat so fast you can barely breathe, making your mind short-circuit. He touches you more - palming at your chest, chuckling at how you lean into his touch unconsciously. The bed dips down under his weight and you make a soft noise of surprise that he thinks is the cutest fuckin’ thing he’s heard in an age. His other hand rests on your thigh, rough against your soft skin, looking so big on you that he can barely stand it--

“You gonna show me how wet ya got thinkin’ about me, huh?” 

- ♡ -

♡ Sukuna is another person . . . being . . . who will not be shameless at all that he’s caught you. Do not expect him to let you know that you’ve been caught in any way that sounds like or relates to the terms ‘tactfully’, ‘carefully’ or ‘quietly’. The minute Sukuna sees you doing that, his name on your lips like a prayer, you are going to find yourself pinned beneath all four arms, his massive size dwarfing you, his eyes running all over your prone body like he owns it.

He basically does, now. You’ve as good as expressed your devotion to him, and Sukuna expects devotion to be made good on. You’re his now, for better or for worse, so hopefully you really thought about it before you even started this whole thing. He won’t bother asking as he pulls a kiss from your mouth, teeth digging into your bottom lip, eyes hungry. 

“As pretty as this sight is, little morsel,” he says, his voice so deep that it makes your toes curl, your body clench around the fingers you almost definitely still have inside you because Sukuna was simply on you that quickly. “You should know that you don’t deserve any pleasure until mine’s been satisfied--”

- ♡ -

♡ Mahito will not make any attempt to be shamed about the position he’s found you in. Hell, you probably don’t even notice him until he’s right beside you and he’s bending over you, eyes wide, smile on his face. He’s fascinated by it, more than anything - the way your chest is heaving, the light sheen of sweat on your forehead, the way your teeth keep biting into your lower lip, the fan of your lashes against your cheeks - the impassioned murmurs of his name, sounding very pretty in your mouth--

You actually open your eyes and notice him because he touches you, unable to resist seeing if your skin feels any different (hotter, he notes). You moan even as you blink at him through syrupy eyelids - for a minute, you don’t register what’s even going on, because the moment that Mahito has found out touching you gets that kind of reaction, he’s going to enthusiastically touch you more, and this feels exactly like a scene from one of your fantasies.

You’re brought back to earth, and the fact that yes, the curse is really right there, and yes, his fingers are immediately heading southwards to see what kind of noises he can wrest from you there, by Mahito’s head tipping to the side as he asks you (with a hint of curiousity in his tone and a hint of wickedness);

“Are all humans this sensitive? Or are you just special?”

-  ♡ -

[youn9racha]

Who is he?

Pairing: human!felix x demon!afab reader (and a little bit of Jeongin)

Genre: smut/dark

Words: 2.5 k

Warning: sub!reader, dom!felix, reader being a straight up manipulative demon, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kids), heavy make outs, slight infidelity, public sex, no foreplay up in here just straight up fucking, quickies ig.

Extra Notes: Happy Halloween everyone !!! I’ve decided to make another supernatural fic on this day because why not? its fitting also i kind of want to do a continuation of the jeongin shot i made, because i’m thinking of maybe making a series revolving that 👀 i’m only thinking about it, nothing’s planned really, so lemme know if y’all are interested to read it. also i made y’all straight up evil, hope you don’t mind that oopsies…

While it is not obligation, its best you read Jeongin’s fic first here before reading this..

—————————————————————————— This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised. ——————————————————————————

Jeongin’s elation was skyrocketing by the second since the day you walked into the door of the dance studio. He saw you nearly every night before that, thinking you were just some sort of enigmatic creature that was invisible to the naked eye but his, but here you were in the flesh, right in front of him, right in front of his bandmates and friends. And yet, you seemed to look unreal to him, you were too gorgeous to be a human. Unachievable beauty you carry upon yourself, and it wasn’t just Jeongin who thought so.

He could see how the boys were slowly starting to get infatuated by your beauty, but masking it as to not make you feel uncomfortable. He would definitely say he hated how exposed you were to the boys, and how he was no longer the only person he could see you. However, your smile reassured him that you weren’t going anywhere to leave him, which gave him a comforting feeling.

Usually there was strict professional rule between employees and idols at jype, but Jeongin didn’t care, as it was seen how his lips were all over your body, laying on his bed. You were sighing in pleasure at every touch his lips gave to your exposed skin, fingers entangled into his hair, as he lifted your shirt up and began kissing your stomach.

Before he started to strip your clothes off, he suddenly heard the door opening.

”Innie, you go—Oh!” You both heard a deep voice erupting after, and looked at the source. You see jis bandmate‘s grunt of astonishment and shielding his eyes from the two of you, though both of you are clothed. Jeongin pushed himself away from you as you lifted yourself up to look at the man standing at the door.

Jeongin was yelling at him to leave him alone whilst the boy was probably just teasing him back for “growing up,” but you couldn’t pay attention to what they were saying as you were mainly focusing on the blonde man standing ahead of Jeongin.

You couldn’t help but eyeball the shorter man and his features. He has the face that was opposite of your being, angelic. His soft yet masculine features, doubling along with his deep voice contrasting with the smile he’s showcasing. You knew he had an interesting accent when speaking English, as you’ve once heard him speak with another member who was fluent in the same language, she believes his name went by Chan or something, but you’ve never seen him up close until now.

Your trance was cut when you heard Jeongin saying, “just don’t tell Chan about this,” to which the boy holding the door handle lit up his signature smile, “don’t worry about it, I’ll tell the boys not to interrupt you.”

”See you later, (y/n),” he teased before he shut the door, and there he was, gone.

Jeongin sighed and turned back to you with a smirk, “now where were we, before we got rudely inter—“

”Who was he?” You asked him, blank in expression, making Jeongin blink and scratch his head. “That’s Felix, you know, my bandmate? You’ve met him before.”

You nodded at him, ”yeah, but I’m not really good with names,“ you tilted your head to the side, looking at him ‘innocently,’ “I can only pay attention to you.”

Your fake flattering words put an effect on him, seeing how he blushed and nervously laughed, “you were?” he sheepishly questioned, making you nod back at him with a “mhm,” and winked at him. You didn’t really mean any of it, but you did indeed have him as your main targe—I mean main man. You leaned back to him, but he stopped you.

“Why’d you ask?”

”Huh?”

”Why’d you ask about Felix?” He had a face of concern in his face, which made you get taken aback. You sometimes forget that humans aren’t actually that slow, and you’ve noticed that Jeongin’s probably the smartest out of all the men you’ve hun—sorry, hooked up with. He notices details pretty quickly, and questions things when you thought he wouldn’t notice, and you weren’t so sure how to feel about that. However, you still had your eyes on him…

and maybe his bandmates.

”Oh, it’s just I didn’t recognized him with his hair,” you nonchalantly responded back as to not cause suspicion and make him question anything. He nodded back with a smile, “yeah, he changes his hair pretty frequently, it amazes me how he still has hair,” he snickered at the end with a head shake.

”But enough about him, let us finish up with what we started,“ he smirked before he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back, however your mind wasn’t there with you. As he presses his lips into your skin once again, you couldn’t help but look up to the ceiling and start thinking about something that shouldn’t be thought of at the moment, but you have no ounce of care nonetheless. Jeongin would think you were on earth with him when in reality your earth was somewhere else. It’s hitting a meteor…

a meteor named Felix.

~~~

Each day goes by and you examined Felix from a far, you would come to discover so many things from Jeongin’s account, eavesdropping, and just overall observing him. Upon all that, you’ve discovered he enjoyed baking, he was currently teaching himself Korean to enhance his speech, he’s phenomenal at changing his vocal tones and that he often uses his smile and good gestures to get away through things.

You enjoyed studying him, how someone seemingly innocent can be the most manipulative being of all. It felt like you were dealing with one of your kind from afar as well. At dance practice, as a choreographer, you would mainly keep your eyes on Felix, despite Jeongin’s call of attention, which weren’t ignored by any means, but you were still set on Felix. You’re now seated in the couch in the corner, seated next to Jeongin—at good distance as to not cause a havoc for him hooking up with his choreographer that only you two and Felix knew—not paying any mind on what he was saying, as your mind was still occupied with the face of Felix.

“(y/n), is there anything wrong?” Jeongin asked with a worried frown, his palm holding your hand that was placed in your thigh, to which you looked back at him with an awakening tone, “huh? no, no, I’m fine,” you smiled at him, but he didn’t return back, “are you sure? You haven’t been yourself, lately.”

”Yes, Innie, I’m okay,“ You squinted your eyes with a smile, but you can see in your peripheral vision that Felix has left the room to get something. “Listen, I’m gonna go refill my water—“

”Want me to come with you?” Jeongin asked and getting up after seeing you get up, to which you shook your head, “no, no, I’ll be fine, just tell the boys to practice once again, okay?” You rushed as you ran out with your waterbottle, as to not make him question your actual intention.

You weren’t actually going to refill your water, you had a good amount of water in there. You went to check up on Felix and what has been up to. You walked in the hallway and stopped your tracks, hiding behind a wall to peak at him. You saw him, refilling his water bottle and drinking it once done.

“Now‘s your time.”

You said to yourself as you found yourself walk out and meet up with the blonde man. Once he spotted you, he smiled at you, “hey, (y/n), how are you?“

You smiled back at him, it was villainous in nature but it was perfectly masked with a gentle one, “I’m alright what about you?“

“Oh, I’m doing amazing, the dance you taught us was awesome, it made me feel hyped up,” he enthusiastically rambled, which made you raise an eyebrow of amusent, “really?”

You knew the dance was phenomenal, after all you read his mind and knew what he liked in the dance so you did all you could to satisfy him.

He nodded back frantically, “are you kidding me? it was so exciting, I’m amazed at how well you demonstrated it, it’s like as if you knew what type of dance I enjoy doing,” he chuckled in amusement. Oh boy, little does he know...

”Well, I try my best,” you shrugged, trying your best to act humble, to which you see him nod. He pointed at the hallway in front of him, “we should go back, the boys are probably asking for us—“

”Actually, how about you and I hang out for a little?” You suggestively asked. Felix looked at you with a bemused facial expression, “but what about the boys?“ He asked, eyebrows knitted close to each other.

”Don’t worry, I told Jeongin to take care of it,“ you smirked. To say Felix was dumbfounded and confused would be an understatement, as it began to showcase through his face even more evidently. You stuck our your hand, silently inviting him to hold it. He felt like he was hypnotized at this moment as he felt himself holding onto your hand. You held it and you began dragging his whole body to the closet nearby.

After closing the door, you pushed him against the door, and you started pressing your lips against his. His eyes widened at the sudden action, and pushed you away, “wait! wait! (y/n), we can’t do this! I thought you were with Jeongin!” He whispered yell at you, in fear anyone would hear whats behind the closet door.

You shook your head, holding his hand, “Jeongin and I aren’t together, it’s a friends with benefit thing,” you explained, to which Felix looked even confused, “then why does Jeongin keep calling you his girlfriend to me?”

You sighed and looked down, of course he would go and tell him that. “We weren’t an item, he just labeled us without telling me,” you spoke, ‘hurt’ in your expression, “I think he just told you that, because he couldn’t bear the fact that I rejected him,” you sighed. It was a complete utter lie, you never talked to Jeongin about this, never did and never will.

Felix just stood there in silence, curiously as he was waiting for you to finish up your explanation. “I didn’t want to hurt him, but it was the truth, I truly didn’t have feelings for him,” you began to tear up, hoping you would gain sympathy from Felix, which unbelievably worked, as he gave a soft expression to you, rubbing your arm, urging you to carry on ‘venting.’

“I told him we can still be friends, and he told me he was okay with it, so I don’t understand why he would just lie like that..” You wiped your tear, almost ‘sobbing’, which made Felix pull you in for a hug. Felix wrapped his arms around you really tightly, but what he doesn’t know, through your sobs in his shoulders, was a smirking you, silently celebrating that your plan was going on the right track, but he wouldn’t know that.

“It’s okay,” Felix said reassuringly, rubbing your back, which made you go back to your sad facade. You called out his name which he hummed back in response. You pulled away and looked at him in the eyes.

”Can you please kiss me?” You pouted with the question which made Felix smiled gently at you, and nodded. He leaned in and gave you a chaste, quick kiss at first, but when he saw you were unsatisfied, he nodded once again and began kissing you, this time it was much more deeper than the last one.

Within the kiss, Felix flipped your around, making your back go up against the door. He made sure the door was locked, before it proceeded, however he stopped his tracks and pulled away, “do you mind..?” he asked and pointed at the two of you, to which you nodded back at his consent, and pulled him in once again to another heated kiss.

The room was filled with sounds of kissing, moanings and heavy breathings that you hoped—or not—that the walls were soundproof. His hands were roaming around your body, while yours were roaming around his. He tugged onto your sweatpants and underwear, “take these off,” he growled as he pulled them, along with your panties, down. He cursed as he can sense your wet heat when he playfully placed his fingers against it, making you shudder. He would love to make you shake by only his fingers but time is of the essence, before the boys would come around start looking for the two, so if this were to proceed later, he definitely is saving it for another day.

He tells you to turn around, to which you did, while he takes off his pants and boxers.

“Ready?” he asks. You nodded at the question, then you suddenly felt a pressure getting in between your legs, which made you moan. You turned to see Felix holding onto your hips as he began inserting and pulling himself out of you. He cussed at the feeling of your wet hole clenching around his length, and by all things great does he want himself buried inside of you.

He started slow, but gradually he started to piston his cock in and out of you, making you let out a gutteral, yet erotic sounds out of your mouth. He could only groan, grunt and tell you how good he feels in you, all the while he using his well trained dancer hip in you, hitting all the good spots.

You felt yourself about to be released, as well did Felix, just based on the sounds you both were making, and the way Felix held your hips hard enough, bruise might start to form—which can be faded by seconds as to not cause suspicions form anyone, especially not to Jeongin, thanks to your powers.

”I’m gonna cum… where do you want me t—“

”Cum inside me,” you told him, mewling through as you’ve already reached your orgasm. Felix continued, but not long until you felt warm fluid flowing inside of you. You both panted, before he released him out of you, making you groan at the sensation of it coming out.

You both quickly began dressing up and cleaned yourselves up. While doing so, Felix held your arm, making you look at him, “hey, if you ever needed anything, I’m right here,” he said with a gentle smile. You smiled at him, sort of empty and no emotions in it, “yeah, of course, I’ll keep it in mind,” you nodded and after getting done, you left the room, leaving Felix alone in the dark closet.

He stayed behind for a little bit, as he started to think a bit what had just happened. He started to feel something different. Granted it was a quick session, but it wasn’t like any other he had before. He suddenly felt his heart beat in a fast pace, looking down in a confused manner, as he had started to feel something new in his heart.

“Am I in love with her?… no way, I barely even know her?”

His mind was in a battle, but there is no denial that no amount of ammunition getting thrown across through his logical and emotion sides will change the fact he definitely feels something for his choreographer.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (i)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, nonsense writing

Word count: 1.5k 

A/N: listen i just needed something to keep my mind busy and a perry the platypus!bucky and dr. doofenshmirtz!reader was the only thing i could think of. dont have any high expectations from this series, you will be sorely disappointed.

If you have any ideas for this series, lemme know!! it’d be cute to write!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Series Masterlist

Bucky Barnes, for all intents and purposes, is edgy. 

His SHIELD salary is definitely enough to afford him a simple beanie, gloves even if he’s that eager. His long hair, though a spectacle in itself, isn’t as good at keeping away the cold as he claims it to be. 

It’s a personal choice, a fashion statement even, to be roaming the streets in a long flimsy t-shirt that does nothing to accentuate his broad shoulders, and tactical pants that look a little too comfortable. 

It’s cold. He says he likes it, to appease his blond haired best friend who insisted that he wear a cardigan at least. He won’t like it in a while, but he would never admit it.

The bike ride to the other side of town for a minor mission takes longer than he expected. The wind rushing by gets his adrenaline racing. 

Official missions are long and gruelling, and oftentimes not fun. But it gives him a purpose.

It’s easy, therefore, to find him brooding when he’s not on one. 

No one wants their room to be on the receiving end of Bucky’s stress-cleaning sessions. His baking is more appreciated.

So when there’s news of a small time villain creating havoc again, it made sense that he volunteered to go sort it out. No one else wanted the job. They’d all been at it before. 

SHIELD didn’t seem particularly bothered either. 

“It’s not that serious, Barnes.”

“I’m going.”

“Just stop her from doing whatever dumb plan she has today. She seems to have a new one every week.”

“Can I-”

“This is not an assassination mission.”

“Fine. Can I-”

“No.”

“Fine.”

He didn’t know what to expect. He had an idea of how they should be. Smaller villains tended to be more aggressive, vicious to prove their point. They were here to stay.

He wears his regular gear. Enough knives to make a butcher look away in shame, and guns including, but not limited to, his biceps.

He finally pulls the bike to a stop a few metres away, leaving it out of reach in case things got too out of hand. He didn’t want to have to walk back to the Tower, and his friends, as much as they loved him, would never go out of their way to pick him up. Little shits. 

The address is a dingy, plain concrete house near an old construction site. It was flat and felt more like an afterthought than an actual building. It looked more like an abandoned Walmart than an actual villain lair. 

The only entrance is the door in the front. He counts to three, lifting his leg to kick it down.

It falls down ungracefully, loud and creaky like it was bound to the doorframe by rust. 

The only light source inside is a green light. All the way at the other end on an elevated platform is a desk and a chair facing away from him. He can’t see much other than that.

Someone’s laughter comes back loud and booming. He raises his gun, feet apart in a defensive stance. 

“I’ve been expecti-” the voice pauses mid-sentence- “Did you just kick down my door?”

He looks behind him to where the wooden piece is on the floor. He certainly did.

He can finally see you as you stand up, green light illuminating your face. You reach over to the side, pressing a few switches. 

He squints when all the lights turn on, pulling the both of you from darkness. 

“Dude!” you cry out, face twisting into what only could be described as a mix of horror and disdain. “What’d you do that for?”

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t lower his gun either.

“You’re an Avenger, just fuckin’ pick the lock or something. This is expensive!” 

He only watches as you whine, looking beyond him at your now demolished entrance. You take a few steps closer, jumping down from the elevated platform.

“Insurance isn’t going to cover this.” You drag your palm across your fist before extending it towards him. “Pay up.”

He wasn’t sure if he heard you right.

“What?” he finally asked, voice gruff.

“All you superheroes go around, destroying walls and cars in the name of world peace like you own the damn thing. Not today, bitch boy. Pay up.”

He doesn’t have his wallet with him. He didn’t expect to need it.

“I’m supposed to be stopping you.” 

“You can do that once you pay for my door.” 

You sound resolute, unshaken. A little annoyed. There’s what appears to be a gun in your hand, although it’s unlike any weapon he’s seen before.

“What’s your plan?” Bucky looks at your hand. Your stare follows his. You lift the thing up and he tenses.

“I was going to freeze some jerk but now my plan is to get you cancelled on Twitter.” 

“Why?” his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Local superhero destroys property of tax paying citizen for no good reason.”

“I mean-” he shakes his head, discarding what you’re saying, “-why were you going to freeze someone?”

“Because I wanted to. But you’ve ruined the mood now, so that won’t happen.”

He blinks, lowering his weapon when he realises you weren’t making any attempt to move. “What’s your ulterior motive?”

“Nothing! I just wanted to mildly inconvenience that stupid fuck for being such a prick.”

He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Is that the freeze ray?” Bucky asks instead, raising his gun when he realises there’s a very real chance he could end up like his best friend. 

“You got a problem with it?” You hold it up carelessly. 

“I can’t let you use that.”

“That’s all you’re going to do?” you huff, “Is this what you call an intervention? This is so boring.”

“Give me the freeze ray and no one has to get hurt.” 

“No one was going to get hurt in the first place, genius. All this does is slow him down for 5 minutes so he misses the subway.”

There’s nothing technically that evil about what you’re doing. He doesn’t even know how you ended up on SHIELD’s radar. He gets why no one was particularly driven to take this seriously.

“And for fuck’s sake put that gun away. You’re not scaring me.” 

He doesn’t oblige, even though something tugs at him, telling him that you’re speaking the truth. 

“Here, take the stupid thing.” You don’t bother waiting for his response, bending over and sliding the gun towards his feet. “I’ll find another way to get back at that dickhead.”

It hits his boot with a small thud. He looks down. Its design is ridiculously comical, like you ripped it straight out of a kid’s TV show. 

“Next time, bring some drama. Wear a cape or something.” You wave him off. “Now get out of my lair. I need to fix the door.”

“You don’t have another one of these lying around, do you?”

“Why, do your friends want one too?” The glare you give him is dangerous. He doesn’t react to it. “No, it’s limited edition. I don’t build the same thing twice.”

“You have others?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” A smile grows on your face, dropping as quickly as it arrives. “SHIELD will tell you if I do. Now leave.”

Bucky looks at the freeze ray in his hand. He supposes his job is done. He was told to stop you, but you didn’t seem to have any inclination to go on with your plan.

“You can ask them if you want, they know about me.” You roll your eyes. “Go ahead, call them.”

He doesn’t want to take a chance. As odd as the situation is, it’s still novel and he isn’t quite sure how to deal with it.

He tucks your weapon under his arm, pressing his phone to his ear.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” Maria’s voice is crisp as ever.

“I confiscated a... freeze ray.” He feels ridiculous even saying it. “But I’m going to bring her in to SHIELD headquarter-”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“But we can’t trust-”

“We’ve been keeping tabs on her for a while. She’s more or less harmless. You can take the rest of the night off, Sergeant.”

He cuts the call, not entirely at ease with the smug, expectant look on your face. 

Still, he couldn’t disobey direct orders.

“I’m gonna... go.” He mentions towards the gaping hole in the wall.

“That would be ideal, yes.” You nod, crossing your arm over your chest.

“Okay.” He hesitates, but finally takes a step backwards. He peeks over his shoulder as he leaves, but finds you swivelled away from him again. 

He steps back outside. The cold greets him again like an old friend. The weight of his weapons feels stupidly embarrassing now. 

It’s a long drive back to the Tower. He keeps replaying the entire story in his mind. He’s unsure of whether he made the right call, but no one else really seemed to care. 

He had seen weirder things. It came with the gig.

He leaves it at that.

“How’d it go?” Steve asks him when he walks into the living room.

“T’was fine,” he answers, toying with the stupid device he took from you. Maybe he would test it on Clint. He had been getting annoying lately. Breathing too much in Bucky’s general direction.

A part of him feels guilty for his carelessness towards your building. The other part is just bewildered. 

That night he looks up the cost it takes to replace a door, making a mental note to draw some money from the ATM soon.

Next part

[itsallyscorner]

Could you do something where the reader is a marvel actor but crashes a panel that Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan are doing (kinda like Tom Holland did that one time) but the sofa is small so the reader is squished in between them and has to share their mics when asked questions something like that. It can be platonic but they are really close or the reader has a little thing going on with Seb but is really close with Mackie. I hope that made sense!

Oooo this request is so cute! Thank you for the request lovely, hope you like it!💜

a/n: This imagine is HEAVY on the dialogue because I wanted to include some fun questions from the fans and what not, anyway here’s the imagine:) 

💌.

Stackie Sandwich

You watched from backstage as Anthony showed off his thighs to the crowd, you know, the usual. You were currently at ACE Comic Con along with Anthony and Sebastian. You always enjoyed going to these kind of things. Meeting and getting to interact with the fans was always fun, it reminded you of why you did these movies and how thankful you were to have such lovely, supportive fans.

Currently you and the crew backstage were trying to find a way to sneak you onto the stage without interrupting a question.

Anthony sat back down on the small couch as Sebastian laughed at his friend’s antics.

“I’m telling y’all, you wanna have thighs like these, you gotta do leg day. Don’t skip leg day.” Anthony tells the crowd as he nudges Sebastian. You chuckle from backstage as Kevin Smith, the monitor of the panel continues.

“So I know we were supposed to be joined by (y/n) (y/l/n), where is she?” He asked the men.

“Probably on a coffee run.” Sebastian answered immediately shaking his head with an eye roll. The crowd reacts with quiet giggles.

“I swear that woman cannot function without her coffee.” Anthony remarked.

“I’ve known her for years and lemme tell you it’s like her body is going through some kind of error. We were on set for a movie we did together and I was talking to her.” Anthony started as he leaned forward.

“Now I didn’t know she didn’t have her coffee yet. I’ve been talking for like 10 minutes and the whole time she was sleeping. And when she began to like wake up and talk, it was like she was a sloth.” Anthony shared as he proceeded to act like a sloth saying “Error 404” really slow.

You turned to the stage hand and said “I’m going now, he just called me a sloth.”

The man laughed and handed you a mic from the side. Before walking out you say into the mic, “I know you ain’t talking about me, Mackie.” You walk out to the stage and the crowd cheers loudly. Mackie throws his head back as he laughs.

“Hey everyone!” You greet the crowd, waving at all of them. You approached the guys with your arms up in a “fight me” manner, it was mostly for Anthony. You greet Kevin and move to Sebastian, purposely skipping Anthony.

“Hey, dragostea.” Seb greeted you as he wraps his arms around your body. You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hide your face in between his neck and shoulder.

When you pull away you turn to Anthony who looked offended. You send him a playful smile and smack his arm before jumping on him and wrapping your arms around him. He lets out his boisterous laugh and hugs you back. In the process you drop your mic on the stage causing you to cringe.

You guys settle onto the small couch. You sat in between Anthony and Seb, fairly squished in the middle by the two buff men. Their legs took up too much space on the couch, leaving no room for your own legs. The crowd laughed at your face as you tried to make yourself comfortable in the tight space.

You went to speak into your mic but it didn’t register. Looks like you broke the mic.

“Look at you, haven’t been up here for a minute and you already broke something.” Anthony tisked playfully. Sebastian poked you with his mic and handed it to you. You thanked him with a smile. 

“I’ll pay for that! Just send me the bill.” You yell towards the back. You look at Anthony and raise your brow at him.

“You need to pipe down, son. You’ve been coming at me all morning long.” You acknowledged pointing a finger at him. The crowd laughs along with Seb. Anthony nods as he stifles his laughs to himself.

“(Y/n), thank you for joining us, how are you?” Kevin asks you.

“I’m doing great! I’m so excited to be here and meet all of you! I saw so many of you guys dressed up, and you all look absolutely amazing! I also saw a dog on my way here!” You answered bubbly.

“What kind of dog?” Sebastian asked pulling your hand with the mic towards him.

“A golden retriever and omg he was dressed as Cap!” You squealed.

“I hope that dog is here because I want to meet them and just smother them with hugs.” You add as you motion to the audience.

“Sebastian said you were running late because you were on a coffee run, is that true?” Kevin asks as Sebastian scrunches his nose. 

“I mean he’s not completely wrong. I got coffee before I got here. But the traffic on the way here was really bad.”

“She’s lying, she spent a good half hour at Starbucks sippin’ on her coffee while inhaling the smell of Starbucks like an addict.” Anthony jokingly jabs at her. You were used to the playful jabs from Mackie, it was how you guys were. Knowing each other for years, you guys formed a brother/sister relationship.

“Alright then! So, we’ve got a line forming for the questions! How about we start?” Kevin continued as he motioned to the crowd.

🕓 Time Skip

It’s half an hour into the panel and you guys have been asked so many questions already. Some about your characters, the relationships off screen, and some new projects. Thankfully the crowd was very nice and respectful to you all, no one asked anything rude or made offensive comments.

The laughs were just dying down after Mackie told another one of his jokes. A teenage girl dressed as your character came up to the mic.

“Hi, my name is Maddie and my question is for (y/n)!” She waved at you with a grin.

“Hi, hun! You look beautiful by the way, I love your costume!” You complimented her, taking Anthony’s mic. She thanks you and continues.

“I—, I’m sorry you’re just so small compared to Anthony and Seb on that couch. You’re so cute!” The audience laughs along with the two men next to you.

You huff and squish your way out between Anthony and Sebastian’s bodies, “In my defense it’s a really small couch! And these guys are so beefy they take up all the space on here!”

“It’s a Stackie sandwich with a side of (y/n)!!” Mackie enthusiastically announced making the crowd go crazy.

Sebastian moved further into the corner of the couch making more space for you. He even moved his arm to rest on top of the couch’s backrest. You could hear some fans point it out and squeal. You thank him by patting his leg as his arm lingered behind you.

“So my question is, how is it like to be around such tall people? Because I’m short as well and I have to always look up at everyone.” Maddie says into the mic.

“That’s exactly how it is! Sometimes I get concerned if I’ll mess up my back because I have to look up at everyone!” You say into Sebastian’s mic, which he voluntarily held up for you.

“We carry her around a lot on set.” Seb chimes from beside you.

“Yeah like a sack of potatoes.” Anthony adds.

You pull on Seb’s arm to talk into the mic, “They also tease me a lot, but it’s all in good fun.”

—•

“Hey guys! I’m Jess and my question is for Anthony! So you and (y/n) have worked on multiple projects together. How was it like to be in Marvel with each other and act along side each other?”

You giggled at the question, turning to Anthony, “How’s it like to work with me, huh?”

“I mean, honestly, it’s always an honor to work with (y/n). I’m glad that I know someone like her in this business, she’s one of the most genuinely nice people you’ll ever meet. And I respect her for that because sometimes it’s hard to not get blinded by the fame and just become a dick, or a diva in your case.” Anthony answered as he threw an arm around you.

“Aww thanks, Mac.” You smile and lean on his shoulder.

“And to add onto that. Our characters in the movie are pretty close as well, so when Anthony and I have scenes together, it doesn’t even feel like acting. It’s always a great time on set when he’s around.” You finished off.

—•

“Hi, I’m Elena and my question is for Sebastian!”

“This is our last question for the panel, so make it good!” Kevin interjects.

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” Sebastian says to the fan.

“Bucky and (y/c/n) have really good chemistry with each other in the movies and the relationship doesn’t feel forced onto the fans. I wanted to know if any of the chemistry on screen is real offscreen?” Elena asked with a cheeky grin. You remained quiet as you felt Anthony nudge you with his knee.

Sebastian longingly stared at you for a moment before answering, “Well it’s not hard to act like you’re in love with (y/n), because everyone on set loves her. She unapologetically herself and I think that’s what makes it so easy to have chemistry with her, it just felt natural with her, you know?”

“To answer your question, Elena. They’ve been on a few dates already.” Anthony blurted out causing the audience to erupt. You looked at him with your mouth agape from your position on Sebastian. You were currently leaning into his side while your arm rested on his thigh.

“You weren’t supposed to say that.” Sebastian uttered as he moved his arm to wrap around your shoulders. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for Seb. You guys definitely had chemistry offscreen and everyone knew about it.

“Hey! All I’m implying is that y’all need to both stop beating around the bush and make it official Anthony defended himself.

“Fine!”

“(Y/n), how do you feel about dinner tonight?” Sebastian asked you.

“Sounds good.” You smile at him.

“Great, we have some things to discuss.” He playfully teased the crowd.

“FEELINGS!” Anthony yelled over Sebastian.

Kevin laughed as he ended the panel, “On that note! Our panel has come to an end, thank you everyone for showing up and for your questions! Thank you Anthony, (y/n), and Sebastian for coming here we really appreciate it!”

You guys thank the crowd again and take a group picture with the audience. Anthony leaves the stage first followed by you and Seb. Sebastian helps you down the stairs and keeps a hand on your back.

“Wait, are we actually going to dinner?” You asked looking up at him.

“Yeah, I told you, we’ve got some stuff to talk about.” He winks as he leads you guys to the green room.

dragostea - love

[cayofdreams]

12 Nights of XXXMAS | Day 1: Breeding

Fit for a Princess

Pro-Hero!Deku x Reader

Summary: Upset at your fiance for not being able to come home on time for Christmas Eve, he makes it up to you with a gift only the likes of you could adorn. But now it’s time to fill your princess duties...

Words: 4.6k

Warnings/Tags: mirror sex, breeding, overstimulation, a dash of dumbification

Notes: uhh this was supposed to be like 2k words but then libido existed. Tagging @butterscotchbaku​ because their dom deku supremacy rhetoric has corrupted into my brain cells.

The view of the wintery outside was marvelous from your window. The snow painted the scenery a shimmering white, the various Christmas decorations adorning neighbor’s homes could place you directly into a wonderland, and the kids giggling and playing as they made snow angels under the street lights created the perfect picture of innocence.

Inside your home wasn’t bad either. The fire cracking at the fireplace sounded tranquil for your auditory senses, the Christmas tree in the living room gave you peaceful nostalgia from your childhood, and the smell of the sugar cookies baking in the oven was comparable to a candle from the most luxurious of department stores.

And yet, you were upset.

Or perhaps anger is the more fitting emotion dwelling over you currently. Your lover and recent fiancé, Midoriya Izuku was currently not treating you like the winter princess you deserved to be treated as. At this moment he was out doing patrols and other related hero work instead of tending to your very important needs.

What was even the point of doing all that work if his so-called ‘love of his life’ was sad, frustrated, and alone? It was easy for you to take the holidays off, granted you weren’t the #1 hero, but even still, your fiancé being in such high stature should make it easier to take days like this off, right? Surely, he was doing this to get back at you for something. After-all, he said he’d definitely be home by 4 p.m., and yet here it is closing in at 8:25 p.m, and you’ve yet to see even a text message from the man.

You even went out to get his specially crafted gift this morning so that he’d have something to look forward to on Christmas. And now you were regretting that.  He didn’t deserve anything special from you after pulling a no-show on his own fiancé on Christmas Eve.

*brrrring!* *brrrring!*

“Arf! Arf! Arf!”

The sound of the timer going off alerted you of the cookies being done and temporarily brought you out of your pity session. It also alerted you and Midoriya’s one-year old puppy who was always so excited to hear when it seemed food was ready.

“Calm down, Mighty. You can’t have sugar cookies, remember? They aren’t good for you.”

Quickly wrapping an apron around your waist, you tucked on the oven mitt and carefully placed the cookies from the oven to the kitchen counter.

“Arf! Arf!”

“You are so needy, aren’t you? You look like Izu but you have my personality.” You reached into the cabinet above you to grab the dog treats you stored away. Grabbing two of the biscuits, you bent down to hand them to your puppy. “Here baby, you can have these.”

Satisfied with how happily little Mighty was chopping on the treats, you decided to wait for your own treats to cool before decorating them. Going to sit down on the couch, you grabbed the remote to flick on the television, an attempt at distracting yourself from current frustrations.

A bad decision considering everything broadcasted now seemed to deal with lovers and families coming together for the holidays. The cheery smiles and rosy cheeks on the actors’ faces made you burn with jealousy as you sat fiancé-less in your home.

“Jake! You actually…you actually came back to me for the holidays!”

“Of course, I did Katherine. I wouldn’t miss spending Christmas with you for the world.”

You sucked your teeth at the overly-dramatic displays of affection, deciding to turn off the T.V. all together. Rubbing your fingers along the bridge of your nose, it seemed even Mighty took pity on you, as he jumped on the couch to snuggle his little body into yours. Picking him up and cuddling him into your chest, you fantasized about your fiancé walking through those doors. How he’d pick you up and carry you to the bedroom, peppering kissing along your face and telling you how-

*clink!*

The sound of the door unlocking made your heart jump and Mighty to jump from your arms to run to the door, barking in excitement at who’d soon walk through.

“Heheh~ Hello little Mighty. Did you take care of Y/N while I was gone?”

“Arf! Arf! Arf!”

His tail wagged enthusiastically as Midoriya bent down to rub all around his ears. “You did? Such a good boy.” Standing back up, he looked at your figure still sitting on the couch, arms folded and lips formed into a pout. “I’m sorry I’m late, baby. Some things came up on the way home.” Putting down his gear by the door, he walked into the kitchen, immediately in amazement at the cookies you seemed to bake for him. “You made cookies? They smell so good, can we eat them now?”

Standing up, you hastily walked to the kitchen, grabbing away the pan of cookies before Midoriya could grab one. “No. They aren’t for you.” You placed the pan on the farther end on the kitchen counter, further symbolizing your statement.

Midoriya let out a small giggle, finding a bit of amusement in your bratty displays. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulled you into him before squeezing you into a tight hug from behind. “That’s okay, you look and smell much better than those cookies anyways.” He attempted to kiss you on the cheek, but you moved your head away with a click of the tongue. “Plus, you look so delicious in that apron. I never get to see you look so much like a little housewife.”

You forcefully pulled yourself away from Midoriya’s embrace before placing folded arms once again under your breasts. “Well I’m not a housewife. Or a wife, it seems.”

Finding your comment to hit a bit below the waist, he furrowed his eyebrows at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You huffed out a puff of air, standing there briefly before brushing past him out of the kitchen. “Y/N!” Ignoring his calls, you entered the bedroom and Midoriya heard the loud shut of the door.

Deciding to give you time to calm down, Midoriya let you be as he stripped down to hop in the shower. As the hot water beat down his back, he thought about how to best analyze his current dilemma with you. He was no stranger to your more rebellious attitudes, but it seemed today you were actually pissed at him. And he could admit that you had reason to be.

This was the first holiday that the two of you were to spend together since becoming engaged. You even baked cookies for him. Wearing an apron at that. Given the amount of work you had piled up yourself throughout the year, you never really had the time to show such cute displays of love. You were probably even excited to have a couple days to play a cute housewife for him, and to you, he probably ruined that by not being home for half the day.

But you needed to understand as well. That given his position in society he couldn’t just take days off no matter how special the occasion. It didn’t matter how much previous overtime he worked, or how many villains he’d catch. It didn’t matter how badly he wanted to be home with you. How badly he wanted to have you curled up in his arms, sitting by the fireplace while munching on cookies very much outside the both of yours’ diet. He wanted that just as much as you did, but what he wanted even more was to be a hero. To be your hero. And it’d take sacrifices from the both of you to continue to be that.

As Midoriya stepped out of the shower, he dried himself off with one of the fancy towels you must have recently decorated the bathroom with for the holidays. Chuckling to himself, he put on a pair of pajama pants and went to retrieve a bag that he left under his gear. As he opened the door to the master bedroom, he was met with your curled up back, the light of the phone screen illuminating your side profile.

“You know…it’s still just Christmas Eve, babe.” Midoriya approached the side of the bed, placing the small gift bag on the dresser. “We still have Christmas to spend with each other.”

Continuing to face away from him, you scrolled mindlessly on your phone. “Christmas Eve has the word ‘Christmas’ in it. So that makes it Christmas. Which means you missed Christmas, Izuku.”

“Don’t be like that, Y/N. You’re a hero yourself, so you know how demanding this life is.”

“I-…I know. I just- I just wore something so special today and it doesn’t even matter anymore.”

Wore?

“Doesn’t matter anymore? There’s still a couple hours of Christmas Eve, Y/N.” His words seemed to fall on deafened ears as you stayed silently scrolling on your phone. Sighing, Midoriya pulled out a long black box from the gift bag and held it in his hand. “So, you don’t want your Christmas present?”

His lips curled into a smile at how your head perked up from the mention of a gift. “I was going to wait until the Christmas that is tomorrow but since you’re so upset, I’ll give it to you tonight.” Despite a stern exterior, Midoriya truly thought you were like a puppy. So whiney and mean until you got the treat you felt like you earned. Well today was training day.

“You got me a gift, Izu?” You straightened up to sit on the edge of the bed, curious eyes falling from his shirtless physique to the long black box in his hand. The velvety material informed you that this was no ordinary gift. “What is it?”

“Something only fit for a princess.” Your lips started to match Midoriya’s curled ones as you jumped up and got closer to him. Your hand started to reach for the box before he held away from your reach.

“I said only fit for a princess.”

“I- I am a princess! C’mon let me see it~!”

“I don’t know, Y/N. You didn’t even share any cookies with me…”

“They’re your cookies! All of them! Lemme see, lemme see!”

Midoriya continued to keep the box from your reach, finding your switching between excitement and pouting to be cute. “You said you wore something special, right? And as beautiful as you look in those pajamas, I’m sure that’s not what you were referring to.”

You fiddled with the first button on your top, your facial expression becoming more flustered. “But…I’ve been wearing it for some hours now. I probably wore out that new feel to it…”

“Good. It probably matches your smell now.”

After hesitating for a brief period, you finally undid the first button, slowly continuing to undress yourself. Midoriya watched with a quiet gaze, still clutching onto the box in hand. After unbuttoning the top, you slipped off your pajama pants before sliding off the top, fully revealing your gift to him.

“Wow…” You were wearing a dark green lingerie, specially made in order to hug you in all the right areas. Midoriya could tell by the side cut-outs on your stomach that it was designed to mimic his hero-costume. The lacy garter and its belt accentuated your waist and thighs even more than they naturally did on their own.

But the perfect icing on the cookie was simply your face. The way that even the dim bedroom light seemed to make your e/c eyes glimmer in illumination. How your pouty lips formed the perfect bow. And best of all, how despite that pout, you still seemed to look innocent to him. Most days you looked more sexy or daring. But tonight, despite such erotic attire, to Midoriya you never looked more cute.

“Do you like it…?”

Midoriya put the box down on the vanity, meeting your reply with rough hands that massaged all around your body. The little whimpers that left your lips as he squeezed softly at your laced breasts sounded like carols in his ears. “You really are a princess,… princess.”

“T-That’s what I said. Can I have my gift now…my green-haired prince?”

Midoriya chuckled as he guided you by the waist to stand directly in front of the vanity’s mirror. He hands continued to roam and squeeze around your body as he looked at your reflection. “My princess can have whatever she wants. Just let me see all of you, baby.”

You slowly took the box in your hand, firstly inspecting the exterior. The velvet felt so soft in your hands, a savory compliment with the rough caresses from your fiancé. Carefully opening it, the shimmering of the contents greeted your eyes as Midoriya’s lips greeted the tenderness of your neck.

It was a headband. But not just any headband. An elegant one; fully decorated in the most precious of diamonds. You even recognized the rare diamond cut as being the same kind as the one adorning your ring finger currently. The shine of its beauty bouncing off the dim lamp’s light brought a tear to your eye.

“I figured since you’re my princess, you deserved the finest of crowns.” Midoriya’s hands slipped down your arms to cradle your hands that were clutching tightly on the velvet box. “Should I crown you?”

You silently nodded, wiping a stray tear that streamed down your cheek. Looking into the mirror, you saw your fiancé once again embellish you with diamonds. The bejeweled headband seated snuggly around your head, you couldn’t help but feel like you were truly wearing a crown. “It’s so beautiful, Izuku…” Your eyes shifted to Midoriya’s, who was looking at your reflection with the merriest of smiles.

He pressed a kiss to the back of your shoulder before looking back at you. “Only because you’re wearing it, princess.” His hands slid down to your waist, squeezing at your laced flesh. “I think it’s only right for you to do your princess duties now, Y/N.”

You shifted your head sideways to side-eye your fiancé quizzingly. “What do you mean? What duties?”

Midoriya kissed your neck once more as he slid one hand over your lacy garter, into your panties. He slowly rolled his fingers around your folds, pleased with how you were already a little wet for him. He could thank your materialism for that. “It’s only right for you to make an heir.”

“N-No way…”

“You don’t want children with me, Y/N?”

Midoriya’s question rang through your ear as his fingers slickly circled your clit. “You want children with me?”

You felt a puff of air hit your skin as Midoriya softly chuckled at your question. “Well…It’d be a lie to say I haven’t thought of filling you up with puppies. And tonight-“ Midoriya slipped a finger inside your pussy, curving it to graze right against your g-spot. “You looked so damn cute in that apron. If I were home to see you baking cookies in that, you’d already be plump with my future children.”

Midoriya slipped another finger inside, using the pad of his hand to continue stimulating your throbbed clit. “Izu~!” His other hand slithered up to your breast, squeezing and twisting at your nipple from outside its lacy barrier.

“Look at yourself, princess.” Your eyes that had drifted to the vanity’s surface aligned back at their reflection. The headband atop your head shimmered beautifully through the mirror. “Imagine how stretched out that garter will get when your tummy swells with my kid.”

A sinful moan escaped you, the thought of having Midoriya’s children starting to lustily plague your mind. As he continued playing with your sponge like an instrument, you felt your stomach bulge with an oncoming orgasm. “I-Izuku~ ! Gonna cum!” And right on queue it seemed, Midoriya had quickly slipped his fingers out of you, your whine sounding as beautiful as your crown.

“Not yet, Y/N. I researched that its better to cum closer to when a person’s semen is ejaculating inside the womb. It increases chances of impregnation.”

Catching your breath from your failed orgasm, you bent down so your face hovered over the vanity’s surface. With your back elegantly arched, your ass pressed against the hardness of Midoriya’s cock that stood proudly inside his pajama pants. Reaching your hand behind you, you slipped your fingers under the crotch of your panties, pulling them to the side. Your puffy lips looked so soft, and your drenched hole seemed to wait achingly for your fiancé to fill it. “T-Then ejaculate, you nerd~”.  

Licking his lips, Midoriya freed his cock from his pants, giving it a couple jerks as he admired the view of your pussy. Noticing some of your juices were drooling onto the floor, he placed the head of his cock under you, collecting your leaking before rubbing along your folds. He teased you by poking the tip at your clit, relishing in your whine-filled moans that reverberated in his ears. “My princess is so fucking gorgeous.” He slipped the tip in, your entrance now hugging him tightly around the head. “Gonna look even more gorgeous with my child taking up all the room in that tummy.”

As he sunk his cock in, the stinging stretch of it made you impulsively tighten your walls even more around him. “Oh my god- Izuku~!” There was never a time where the thickness of Midoriya’s cock didn’t take you by a slightly painful surprise. When he was half-way in, he paused to check in after your thighs started to quiver. He noticed your lull in breathing as you held your breath in.

“Breathe, baby.” He reached his hand around your thigh to twiddle with your clit. “You need a little help? Don’t worry.” You nodded, succumbing to the onslaught of pleasure brought on by Midoriya’s fingers. “You always struggle to take my cock at first.” The sounds of your moans filled the bedroom as your stretched pussy relaxed around his cock. “But then you end up taking me- “. Feeling you grow slicker with each flick at your clit, Midoriya slowly sunk the entirety of his cock inside you. “-All the way to the hilt.”

His balls softly slapped against your clit and your walls twitched around him. With fingernails scratching against the surface, you looked behind you to meet his lustful green eyes. “You- You’re all the way in?”

He replied with a chuckle before bringing his hand toward your face, squishing your cheeks tenderly between his fingers. “That’s right. Look-“ Guiding your face to look back into the mirror, he started to gently thrust inside you. “Look at how well you’re taking me, baby. My cock fits so snug inside my princess.”

“Ohh shit~ Izuku-!” Midoriya’s increased his pace, his cock seeming to grow even more at how your silky pussy hugged around him. “You’re getting biggerrr~! Feels good!” You started to jerk your hips back to meet his thrusts, now balancing yourself on your forearms that rested on the vanity.

“Are you going to cum? Going to get your womb nice and ready for me?” Midoriya wrapped his scarred hands around the sides of your waist, squishing hard enough for your fat to plunge through his fingers. “Keep looking at your beautiful face in the mirror, Y/N. I want to see and hear you call my name when you cum.”

Midoriya pumped his cock vigilantly inside you while your pussy fluttered pleasingly around him. You looked at yourself in the mirror, in awe at how drunkenly you had become for him. The elegant band that was fit on your head was practically a juxtaposition against your lecherous facial expressions. Your mouth gaped open for delirious moans to pour out, while saliva drooled down your chin onto the vanity. Certainly no proper look for a princess you thought.

As the head of Midoriya’s cock plunged against your spongy sweet spot, your hands gripped at the edge of the vanity, desperate for stability. “Izukuuu…~”

“Go ahead, princess. Please cum for me.”

You tried to keep looking at your reflection but your eyes drifted to the back of your head as the pressure of your orgasm swelled inside your core. “I’m cumming~! Izuku! I’m cumming~!”

The feeling of your pussy convulsing around Midoriya’s cock made him grunt as he reached his own orgasm. His fingernails dug into your flesh, almost breaking skin while his thrusts became more jerky and erratic. “Fuck! Y/N- You feel so good-! Gonna cum inside you-!”

You felt the warm thickness of his cum filling you inside, his cock pulsating with every spurt. He slowly slid in and out of you as he calmed down and his grip around your waist softened. Regaining his breath, he slipped completely out of you, a bit of his cum dripping out as well. He slipped his hands under your chest to stand you up before gently gripping you behind the neck to pull you into a kiss.

The kiss was sloppy and wet as you were too in-the-clouds to pay attention where you moved your tongue. You simply whined as he sucked on the pink muscle, gripping on his bicep to maintain your balance. Midoriya lapped up the drool from your chin before licking at the inside of your mouth again.

Finally separating his lips from yours, he gave a squeeze to your ass before pushing you down on the bed. “Are you ready to be bred, princess?” He cradled his hands under your knees, pushing them up to be positioned by your breasts.

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused at his question. “B-But you just came. You came inside…”

He chuckled as he rubbed the tip of cock along your folds, gathering up the drooly mix of your juices and his seeped cum. “You didn’t think one time would be enough, did you? We have to make sure you get completely filled up, Y/N. Otherwise the chances of you getting pregnant won’t be so high.”

He sunk his cock inside of you again, the new mating-like position making it so his cock aimed directly against your now tender g-spot. The oversensitivity of it make you whine loudly as your hands reactively came up to press against his abs, attempting to slow him down. “Its-! Its too sensitive right now-! Wait a second~”

Midoriya shushed you as he took one of your hands in his, placing it beside your head as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “Ssshh…You’re not supposed to be bratty anymore, remember?” His balls pressed against your ass as he filled you once more all the way to the hilt. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix made a high-pitched moan leave your lips. “You took it so well before, so just do it one more time, okay?”

His hips grinded against yours as he took slow and deep thrusts inside your pussy. The feeling would have been sensual if it wasn’t for your current high levels of sensitivity. You could feel the head of his cock glide against each rib of your pussy’s walls before softly poking your cervix. The fingers that were entangled with your fiancé’s tightened with each thrust. “M-My cervix~ Too fucking big~”

Midoriya leaned down to press delicate kisses around your face, admiring how your moans were now sent directly into his ear. “I’ll be careful, okay? I can move how I want as long as I don’t hit it, right?” You nodded, a bit nervous at the foreshadowing question.

Midoriya straightened his torso, his hands finding their place back on your thighs as he put all nearly all his weight on you. Taking his cock almost entirely out of you, he quickly submerged it back inside, making sure to stop before he hit your wall. Although not reaching your cervix, he still made sure to properly grind against your g-spot, making your pussy even soppier than before.

His cock plummeting in and out of your pussy made squelching noises as the creamy mixture of your fluids spurt out on your thighs. Your hands wrapped around his forearms, fingernails scratching against the flesh. Your breathing became harsh pants as your tongue lolled out from between your lips. You feel yourself about to reach another orgasm and the throbbing of Midoriya’s cock told you he was at the same state.

“You-You’re gonna make me cum again~!”

“Me too, Princess. Are you going to take more of my cum?”

Nodding profusely, you focused on the growing bulge inside your stomach. “Y-Yeahh~!!” Bringing your hands up to his muscled shoulders, you looked euphorically into his green eyes. “Kiss me! Please~!”

Without any hesitation, Midoriya leaned down chest-to-chest, sloshing his tongue with yours. Saliva trailed down your cheeks as you mingled your fingers in his curly locks. His cock now hitting you in deeper places, your pleasure would override the kissing at your cervix. As you came around his cock, you felt once again the hot spills of Midoriya’s semen filling your womb. You moaned whinefully into his mouth as he continued to slowly thrust into you. The lubrication of his cum making his strokes slicker.

Ending the kiss, Midoriya wrapped his arms around your back, cupping your body into him as he started to pound into your pussy once more. The pleasurable feeling was too intense, making you barely able to think anymore. “F-Fuughh~!! Ijhuku!!”

“Just one more time, princess. Okay?” His thrusts now shallow and deep, you became lost in delirium as his cock relentlessly plundered into your pussy. “Wow, look- You’re feeling good even when I’m hitting your cervix, aren’t you? Taking me this deep- You’re going to be so full of my kids.”  

“I-Ijhukuz babieess~!!”

“Heh~ If only we were still by the mirror, you could see how you look right now, all drunk from my cum.” He reached his thumb down circle at your clit, making your pussy clench around him in reaction. “Gosh, can you hear how mushy you are, princess? You’re so fucking soft inside. So perfect for me.”

“Guh-Guhmming~!!” Desperate to seek a break from the continuous pounding against your overstimulated sponge, you squirmed your hips around, pushing your hands against Midoriya’s shoulders in attempt to escape his grasp.

“Just hold still, okay? I’m- I’m almost there-“ Grunting behind gritted teeth, he wrapped his powerful arms around your head to further lock you in place.

“Haaahh~! Ijhuuu-!” Your thighs quaked intensively at Midoriya’s more rapid and deep thrusts as he chased his final orgasm. Pitchy and incoherent babbles filled his ears, further gratifying his desires. “Y-Yur cumm~ Sho full-! Sho full of- Ijhukuz cum~! Sho muchh~!”

“Oh fuck, princess. Your pussy and voice- Fuck! So cute-!” Midoriya’s pants became erratic and gaspy as his cock throbbed inside you. With a couple of longer and harsher strokes he finally released the last of his load inside your womb, a bit of it seeping out onto the bed from there not being much room for more.  

Without slipping out of you, Midoriya straightened his back, smiling while he looked at your blissed-out face. He maneuvered your leg to the other side of his hip so that you’d be rested on your side. Laying down with his chest against your back, his hands caressed the area below your stomach, admiring how plump it became with his cum.

“I can’t wait to see how you beautiful you look in the next few months…” Peering at your side profile, he noticed you were deep in slumber. Pressing soft kisses to your shoulder, he gave a couple of gentle strokes, as if verifying that his cum was properly preserved inside you. Satisfied, he cradled his arm under your head, continuing to stroke your stomach lovingly as he closed his eyes.

“But we’ll have fun until then won’t we, princess?”

Taglist (if your name is unlinked, I was unable to tag): @bnha-free-writing​ @amelietheslut @waifutiddies

[bucky-barmes]

☾✧✧✧ I'm just looking for a good night ✧✧✧☽

female enhanced!reader x tfatws!Bucky

In which you get dragged into a mess in Madripoor while just trying to enjoy yourself. But is the infamous Winter Soldier as bad as you always thought?

[ a/n: idk what this exactly is but i don't hate it, and who doesn't love asshole bucky? maybe i just have a problem, also loosely based on that madripoor episode. also also tried something new for the writing style so i hope you don't mind lemme know if it's shit ]

Minka is polish for strong-willed one, and is a name but here it’s used as a nickname as it’s reader insert

[ word count: ~3,580 words (this started as a lil drabble of reader meeting bucky at a bar, but i guess my brain had other ideas)

includes: asshole bucky, swearing - like a lot (i'm aussie okay?), drinking (alcoholism?), it's pretty fkn angsty, asshole bucky (i'm warning you ok), no -18 pls as it's not entirely g rated & has some implications

[ all works are my own, do not steal, repost or translate ]

tagging some friends (message if you wanna be on a perm taglist/if you don't wanna be tagged in future (i won't take it to heart i promise)) @sweetdreamsbuck @beefybuckrrito @mymindslabyrinth @igotnoname4thisblog @theluxuriousfangirl @posinhay @barnesand1

The music was blaring, sending vibrations through her body as she swayed to the fast beat. Drink sloshing around as she waved her arms around her above her head. This was it. This was living. Drunk, surrounded by strangers. No one knew her and she knew no one. She was free. And it was incredible.

Going to clubs alone was dangerous, she couldn't remember the number of times her mother had warned her not to. She must have been rolling in her grave at her daughter not only going to a club alone, but to a club in Madripoor no less. The thrill that anything could happen only exciting her more. That, and knowing that the Powerbroker wouldn't let anything happen to her, wouldn't let anyone lay a finger on her. That was the perk of being enhanced and not looking like it, it made you useful.

She had lost track of the hours, and the drinks, thinking only of how good the music made her feel. Of how nothing had felt this good in so long.

She waded through the sea of people, already locking eyes with the bartender as she made a beeline for the bar. She was stopped in her tracks, however, by a wall of bodies.

An almost animalistic growl ripped through her as she slapped her hand down on the shoulder of the man in the middle, a big fur collar adorning his coat. A hard hand gripped her wrist in response and her eyes shifted slowly from the back of man one to the owner of the hand.

Her eyes widened at who they landed on, then narrowed to barely visible slits. Yanking her hand back she didn't break her glare.

"I'm sorry, Dove, did we cut in?" The voice of the middle man broke her chain of thought, and when she looked back to him, he had turned to face her. "How about we buy you a drink to apologise."

"I don't want your handouts, Baron." Venom dripped from her words as she spat back her response. She wedged herself between the Baron and the third man, not someone she recognised, to snatch the drink the bartender placed out for her. "Besides, I don't pay here anyway, don't want you wasting your money."

She was about to work her way back through the crowd of people and to the middle of the dance floor again when she had a thought.

"Hold the fucking phone." Spinning on the spot, her eyes narrowed again, this time at the Baron, but that didn't stop her from seeing the man to his left step forward defensively.

"How are you even here? Last I heard you were stuck in a prison in Germany." Her drink was down and she slammed the glass down on the bar, getting threateningly close to him as she did. "Thought you were never getting out after what you did to them." Her sentence trailed off as her eyes flicked to the man next to him, the one with the metal arm.

The Baron offered her his signature smug smile. "Some people had other plans."

"Well, whatever you're planning," She closed the gap between them further. The shifting of bodies next to them was halted with a raise of the Baron's hand. "Stay the fuck away from me." Hatred seeped from her whole body.

Snatching the new drink that was placed on the bar, her gaze was turned to the apparent bodyguard.

"And I'd think twice before you lay a hand on me again." There was no response, but a subtle cocky smirk instead that only heated her further. She was gone before any of them could speak another word to her.

She was only able to start enjoying herself once more when the sight of the three men had disappeared, then, she was able to let her guard down and the beat of the music slowly took her over again. Until she got a call.

Plugging her other ear so she could hear, she took mental note of the location she was told to move to. The call ended abruptly, they always did with the Powerbroker, but this one was serious. She had begun picking up on the subtle differences between the calls.

Her gun was pulled from her thigh holster as she advanced towards the room Selby used for meetings.

She listened from a distance, the ability being one of many. A phone rang. An awkward silence as the conversation started. Names were thrown around, first Smiling Tiger. 'Yeah, that guy was definitely not Smiling Tiger', she thought to herself as she listened, remembering her run in with him one time. The phone call ended with a goodbye to "Sam"?

There were gunshot before she had time to process anything further.

Kicking the door down, she stepped through slowly, gun raised. It had fallen silent, the three men stood in the middle of the room.

"Holy fuck, what did you do?" Her voice was a mix of shock and anger. The men snapped their heads up.

"Things didn't exactly go according to plan, Dove." The Baron regretfully shrugged as he looked around at the collection of bodies on the floor, inclusive of Selby's.

"Well, why the fuck am I-" A fifth person joined the room before she could finish.

"Because the Powerbroker requested it." Sharon Carter approached her, stone-faced. “And nobody disobeys the Powerbroker.”

“I don’t know, I might’ve had I know it was for these idiots.” She was dead serious as she said it, glaring at the men responsible for the bodies strewn about.

Sharon shot the other woman a look, a look that said ‘you better cut it out right now’.

"Don't, Minka." Sharon's use of the others' nickname amplified the seriousness of it all.

The men in the room didn’t know it, but she, Minka, was the only one who knew who the Powerbroker really was. And you could say she was somewhat of a bodyguard for them.

“The Powerbroker requested it. End of, so get over it.” Sharon snapped at her.

“I can’t believe you’re helping these people.” Her grip on her gun tightened as she interrogated Sharon. “After everything that happened last time.” Her sentence ended with a scoff, clicking on the safety of her gun. She didn't place it back in her holster just yet though.

“Enough.” Sharon’s remark was a bark. An order. “Whether you like it or not, you’re involved now, you’ve seen the bodies. You’re part of it now.”

Minka just glared at her, mumbling “lucky me” under her breath as her daggers turned to the men again. Her anger only bubbled more when she saw the one with the metal arm, the Winter Soldier, staring right back, something she couldn’t quite pick up on behind his cold eyes.

Many hours and gun fights later, everyone made it Sharon's place alive, much to the acrimony of some of them. Of Minka.

"You have a beautiful place, Miss Carter." Baron was walking around, admiring the art as he made the genuine compliment, but he was being eyed. Sharon's personal guard wasn't about to let him touch, ruin, anything.

"Don't touch anything, and get changed, everyone knows what we're wearing now." The last part was directed at the whole group. "And you look like shit, too." Her nose scrunched as she looked them over. Even her associate was included in the statement.

Sharon watched as her figure retreated to the room she had set up, she was there often enough to warrant her own one, and then directed the men to where they could pick out some clothes and change.

There was a soft thump as her body landed on the bed, and she released a long sigh into the covers.

"Yeah, Sharon, I'm not in the mood." Her voice was mumbled from the bed, but was loud enough to hear the frustration.

"Minka, huh?" That was not the voice of Sharon Carter. Her head snapped up to face the door to her room that she swore she locked.

"You don't get to call me that." If looks could kill, the man in the doorframe would have dropped to the floor in record time.

"Is that not your name, Doll?" Arms folded over his chest, a mix of metal and flesh.

"Is your name The Winter Soldier?" The words were laced with malice as she slid off the bed, moving towards him to push him out of her room, her safe space. "Now if you don't mind getting the fuck away from me."

A heavy boot stopped the door from clicking into place, his metal hand forcing it back open, eyes dark. "No, I don't think I will." He stepped into the room, pushing the door closed behind him. This time it was her that stopped the door from closing, hand gripped tightly on the handle, pulling back.

"You've got some fucking nerve coming here like that." Minka yanked the handle as the soldier pushed the door harder, breaking it clean off. "Coming back into Sharon's life like you aren't the one that fucked it up in the first place." The handle dropped with a loud thud.

For a moment, something flashed through his eyes. Regret? Sadness? Whatever it was lasted a mere second before he regained control.

"So, you're like me?" His gaze dropped to the handle on the ground, taking the opportunity to gaze down her body as he did.

It was all she could do from punching him right then and there. "Absolutely not!" If the venom in her voice wasn't evident before, it definitely was now. "I don't kill innocents."

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The soldier staring down darkly at the smaller woman.

"It's Bucky."

Her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"My name, it's Bucky. And you can call me that."

She couldn't hold back the scoff that fell from her lips. "I won't be calling you anything. After all this shit is cleaned up, you'll never see me again."

Bucky's head tilted ever so slightly, his voice soft but dark. "I wouldn't be so sure of that." But before she was able to punch question him, Sharon's voice bellowed through the building.

"Downstairs, now."

The pair ripped their eyes from each other, Minka's falling to the handle on the floor. "I'm telling her you broke that. Now fuck off so I can change." And she shoved him out of the room, closing the door over between them, making sure to not close it the whole say so she could actually get out when she was ready.

By the time she had finished getting ready and made her way down to everyone else, people had begun meandering in, admiring the art.

"Took you long enough." Sharon walked up behind her, whispering harshly in her ear.

"Yeah, well you can thank your old friend for that. He's an asshole, by the way." "And he's not a friend." "Well he's the reason I need a drink." She turned to face Sharon, giving her a look of 'I hate you for dragging me into this' before heading to the bar, fully intending on double parking it the whole night.

It didn't take long for her to finally loosen up again, 5 drinks to be exact, and be back in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by sweaty bodies. It may have been an art auction, but nothing was ever not a party in Madripoor, especially if it was organised by the Powerbroker themself.

Minka was so caught up in the moment that she had forgotten entirely about the events of the day, the people of the day.

She had, yet again, lost track of the number of drinks she'd had. But every drink handed her way was downed immediately, not taking any time to register where, or more like who, they were coming from. That was always her greatest weakness, denying alcohol.

She was happily about to take yet another unknown drink being handed to her, when it was snatched from her reach and discarded on a nearby table.

"Hey, what the fuck, that was mine!" She growled, turning with her fist ready to launch into whoever had the nerve to steal her drink.

"Stop taking drinks from strangers, are you an idiot?" Suddenly the memories of the men she had to deal with throughout the day came flooding back. "You're gonna get spiked- in fact, you were about to with that one."

"What? Have you been keeping an eye on me? That's not very Winter Soldier of you." Her tone was mocking as she glared up at Bucky, struggling to stand thanks to the combination of copious amounts of alcohol and continuous movement of people around her.

Bucky placed his large hands on her biceps to keep her steady, eyes narrowing at her words. "You really don't know how to be nice to people, do you?"

"You really don't know how to stay the fuck away from people that don't like you, do you?" She retorted immediately, pulling herself from his grip. "I don't need a goddamn babysitter, especially not you. You don't exactly have the best track record with protecting people." Her back was turned to him and stalking off before she even finished her sentence, but she was yanked back in by her forearm.

"Yeah, I don't think so. You're being watched like a hawk by at least 3 men. Who knows how many of them are trying to spike you and get you separated from the crowd." Bucky's eyes were anywhere but hers, scanning the vast room for anything suspicious, clearly on high alert.

"I don't understand why you fucking care?" Bucky's eyes snapped down to hers, alarmed by her intensity.

"Keep your voice down or you're gonna draw attention to us." He hissed at her, lowering his head and pulling her arm to move her closer to him.

"Good, maybe security will see you're harassing me and escort you out." She snarled, anger rising with every word he spoke. "I'm just looking for a good fucking night and you've managed to ruin it twice now."

"Well take it up with Sharon then, she's the one that told me to keep an eye on you. So clearly she thinks you do need a babysitter." He dropped her arm, that would be enough to keep her in her spot for now.

"You're lying." Her words were barely above a whisper, eyes narrowed at him. "She knows I can hold my own. She's literally hired me for personal protection before."

"Clearly not this time." Bucky's eyes were back to scanning the room. "Not with the types of people here tonight." Minka couldn't help but scoff.

"Oh, because you know Madripoor, right? You've spent how many years here? Oh, that's right, none." She suddenly saw her opportunity to escape, Bucky's eyes not trained on her and her arms free.

"Tell her, as much as I appreciate it, she can shove it." And with that she had weaved her way though the crowd of bodies.

But her abandonment didn't last nearly as long as she had hoped.

All of a sudden she was being pushed against the far wall of the room where she was escaping to, breath knocked out of her.

"What the fu-" Lips landing on hers cut off her protests. Her eyes widened when she realised who said lips belonged to.

"Get off of me!" She spat when she was finally able to push Bucky off. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"People are following you. If they know you're with me they're less likely to try something."

"I'm not with you. In fact, I want to be as far away from you as physically possible right now." Bucky's arms, which were trapping her in by pressing against the wall either side of her face, fell to his side. His face turned emotionless for a moment before returning to his usual arrogant demeanour.

"You can't tell me you didn't feel the spark." He winked, a cocky grin plastered on his face when he saw the heat creep to her cheeks.

"Please, you wish there was a spark." Her eyes rolled as she paused. "I've had knife fights with more spark than that."

"Maybe we should have a knife fight sometime then." Bucky's response was quick, and smooth.

"Have you forgotten that you're never going to see me again after all this shit? Although," Minka tapped her chin in mock thought. "If you're offering to let me stab you, I'll gladly take you up on that." Unlike Bucky's, her face held no semblance of humour.

"I'm sure you'll change your mind by the end of it." Bucky eyed her suggestively.

"God, please don't tell me you're into me. Maybe I do want those supposed guys to take me, seems better than the alternative." She groaned at the thought of having to deal with him fawning after her.

Bucky's face indicated that that was definitely not he case. His eyes, however, suggested her words had hurt him a little. "God, never. But if you really want, I can hand deliver you to them myself." He pointed in the direction of said men.

Her nose crinkled. "Okay, maybe not them."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Sharon, we have a serious problem!" Minka stormed into the kitchen after the last few people had left and the party was over, Bucky not far behind her. "So I need a babysitter now? I thought I was the personal protection around here." Her fist collided heavily with the table.

"You are," Sharon looked at her nonchalantly as she poured herself a glass of whiskey. "Until alcohol is involved. You're as useless as that new Captain America when there's booze around." A sip. "Case in point." Sharon hummed, watching your eyes follow her glass from bench, to mouth, to bench again.

"Oh please." She snorted. "And you thought pairing me with this idiot was a good idea?" He hand gestured back to Bucky at idiot, not caring if it offended him. "He just makes me want to drink more."

Sharon was about to give her a look, but Minka just shook her head, throwing her hands up. "No, I'm not dealing with this tonight. I'm going to bed." "Take him with you." Sharon nodded towards Bucky.

"Oh fuck no, why the fuck would I-" "Because everyone knows you're involved, and your head is on a spike now, too. They want you dead, Minka." She couldn't argue with Sharon when she used her nickname for her. And the pain in her voice was evident.

"Fine, but you're sleeping on the floor." Bucky just shrugged, "nothing new."

"You sleep there." A finger pointed to the sofa on the far side of the room. Conveniently away from the bed. "I'll get you a blanket."

Bucky's brow quirked. "I thought I was on the floor?" He feigned confusion, head tilting to the side before his cocky smirk returned.

"Keep going and you will be." The blanket was thrown at his face, along with a pillow.

"A pillow too? Wow, it's like a 5 star hotel." She just glared.

"If you snore, you're out. If you sleep talk, you're out. You make any sort of noise and you're out. Capisce?"

"Guess it's a good thing I don't sleep then, huh?" Bucky threw the blanket and pillow onto the sofa.

"Now see, that just makes it weird. Like that scene from Twilight." "Well, yeah, when you put it like that it is." His face screwed up at the thought, recalling the scene.

"How do you- Actually no, I'm tired and I don't care." She had been about to ask how he understood the reference, but decided that was going to open a whole can of worms that she didn't care about.

"I may be over 100, but I have seen Twilight. Wanda made me watch it with her." He didn't need to be a mind reader to know what she was about to ask. And he didn't blame her, it probably would be surprising that a 106 year old had seen Twilight.

"Don't worry, Doll, I won't stare. Much." And now it was her turn to scrunch her face up.

"If you fucking touch me, I'll rip that metal arm from your body and shove it so far up your ass." Her sentence trailed off, however, when Bucky stepped closer to her, his gaze intense as he looked down at her.

"And how do you think I would touch you?" Another step closer, making her step back and gulp.

With her mouth agape, Minka was lost for words, probably for the first time in her life. Sharon unknowingly came to her rescue, though, when she knocked on the door while entering.

"Set your alarm for 6," Her eyes narrowed at them both and the distance, or lack there of, between them. "We've gotta be out of here asap tomorrow. Make sure you get enough sleep." "Will do, Sharon." Minka's gaze flicked to her, nodding once before she left the room, confusion plastered on her features.

"Right, well that's bed time then." Her tongue ran over her lips nervously, and she was painfully aware of Bucky's eyes watching. "I'm going to get changed." She turned and basically ran to the bathroom attached to her room.

"I'll be out here waitin'." "You're disgusting, don't think anything." "Wouldn't dream of it, doll."