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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

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luna-loner · 2 years ago

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Sugikano HCs 💘

My turn to contribute to the tag :)

They get together in their adulthood, when they're completely over their crushes.

Prior to that, they had formed a good friendship in junior high. They've been to each others' homes and have a good relationship with their families. Sugino is possibly the only guy Okano's father and brothers are okay with her bringing over.

Lots of teasing from her entire family-- even her mom! Okano has to repeat over and over than that they're. Just. Friends!

Seven years later, they're a couple. You can imagine how irritating the smug "I told you so" looks she got from her whole family were when she announced she was dating Sugino.

Being the trolls that they are, Okano's brothers "offered" to accompany them on their dates as Sugino's bodyguards since he's a celebrity now.

They play sports together, whether it's to help the other practice, or just for fun. They would do this as friends, but it's a little different now that they're a couple. Lots of flirting, and the loser has to buy snacks.

Sugino likes to brag about Okano's achievement like the proud boyfriend that he is. It's both endearing and embarrassing.

Of course baseball's on the list, and Okano gives Sugino a run for his money. She's not going easy on him just 'cause he's her boyfriend.

They also workout together. Okano likes to act as Sugino's personal trainer. Sugino doesn't mind, since at the end of the day, she's the most knowledgeable about fitness between the two.

After each workout, he wipes her brow with his arm bands.

He's also very affectionate and Okano would easily get flustered at first, but she later got used to it.

Sugino has a habit of resting his head on top if Okanos' while wrapping his arms around her from behind. He also likes carrying her because she's so tiny compared to him.

Whenever he jokes about the height difference, she lightly smacks him or threatens to kick him.

Whenever Sugino ruffles her hair (and he really enjoys touching her hair because of how silky it is) Okano would slap his hand away. That was back when she would easily get flustered. She still playfully swats his hand away and tells him to stop, but from her smile, you can tell she's enjoying it.

They play video games together (this one's inspired by Blueberry's hc that Okano is a competitive gamer) much like with baseball, Okano refuses to ease ip on him. Sonetimes, they'd play with her brothers and that's when the whole thing turns into a battlefield for Okano.

Sugino associates her with rabbits since they're so quick on their feet. (Thorn and I once had a convo about Okano being like a rabbit)

When Sugino isn't playing with them, he acts as a cheerleader of sorts to Okano. Guy's gotta support his girl.

Okano associates Sugino with dogs. Doesn't mean she thinks he's a player or anything; it's just that he's the human embodiment of "Man's best friend" (if she had to pick a breed, it would either be a golden retriever or a Dalmatian)

He once got her a bunny hairclip, which later became one of Okano's prized possessions.

He also got her a bunch of pink hairclips that he would put in random places until Okano's hair is all messed up. Okano lightly smacked him, then kissed him as a thank you. (For the hairclips, not ruining her hair)

Later, Okano starts buying blue hairclips and messes up his hair, too. Sugino retaliates by giving her a nuggie. Then he kisses her and runs away while she chases him with a pillow.

Speaking of pillows, Okano once joked about ordering a pillow with a picture of her on it for Sugino to travel with. Sugino responded by saying it's not necessary since he's got enough pictures on his phone, all stored in a nice folder titled "♡Hinata♡"

Later, while he's away for a game, Okano receives a package from her boyfriend. It's a pillow with Sugino's picture!

She sent him a selfie of her hugging the pillow with the caption: "You've been replaced >:P"

Sugino just sent her a screenshot of the selfie as his new home screen wallpaper. There's just no beating this guy, is there?

#assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #okano hinata #hinata okano #sugino tomohito #tomohito sugino #sugikano

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kaidas-daydreams · 4 years ago

Note

I saw your request open and I'm wondering if you can do a one shot about cherry's s/o being insecure about their looks. His s/o wears glasses and they wear baggy clothes since they don't like to show their skin to the world. But the more they look at other girls they feel like Cherry will leave them for a better woman, who is more confident

And the s/o is a female

I hope this is enough information for you!

- 🍉 anon

kaida’s note: there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the way anyone dresses, you can all dress in anyway you’d like. remember you’re all beautiful and amazing in you're own way! i hope you enjoy 💭

synopsis: after witnessing countless beautiful women hit on your handsome boyfriend cherry, you begin to feel insecure about your looks until cherry reminds you just how wonderful you are

genre: fluff

cherry blossom x fem! reader

warning: none

you're perfect to me

you knew deep down that cherry would never leave you, he promised you this but seeing all the women that gawk at him makes you think otherwise. of course he’s not so shallow that he’d pick a woman for her looks over her personality but even so you can’t help but worry that one day something could change.

you stood on the sidelines as you watched woman after woman coming up to cherry and congratulating him on winning his beef. you couldn’t help but compare yourself to these other women, some had on tight low cut shirts; others had tiny shorts showing off their long smooth legs and others had on cute spring dresses. you on the other hand had on a baggy long sleeved shirt paired with flair cut jeans and a baseball cap.

you pushed your glasses up as you felt a strong wave of sadness wash over you, these women around your cherry were batting their eyelashes and making flirtatious advances.

“you don’t have to worry about him, you know he’d never leave you and if he does i’ll kick his ass for you” you looked next to you to see joe with a reassuring smile on his face.

“he tells me everyday how it’ll always be him and i but a small part of me can’t help but think that one day he will leave me for another woman you know a more confident one that doesn’t hide her face behind a hat or her body underneath baggy layers of clothes” you sighed as you saw the last of cherry’s fans get a picture or autograph.

“he’s different from other men you know”

“i thank my lucky stars he isn’t like you” you walked away from joe before he could process your statement.

“done talking to that gorilla?” asked cherry as you reached him, you just nodded your head and he took your hand in his already feeling the stares of those around you both. “carla, long board” cherry’s board elongated in order for you to both fit on the board, you hopped on and held onto cherry’s waist for dear life. usually you would compliment him on his skating but the ride home was very quiet and cherry knew something had to be wrong and it already knew what it was.

cherry didn’t want to wait until you got home in order to talk, he wanted you to feel better now, his heart aches when he knows you’re not feeling okay.

“why’d you stop?” you asked.

“because i couldn’t wait to tell you..” he grabbed your face and made you look him directly in the eyes “...how much i love you and how grateful i am to have you in my life and no one absolutely no one could ever replace you in my heart or in my life, your perfect to me and like i always say it'll always be you and i forever and always."

"ch-" his soft lips pressed against yours before you were able to say anything. you relaxed into the sweet kiss that made all of your worries just disappear.

"never compare yourself to anyone else my love" he pecked your lips one last time before heading home.

#sk8 cherry blossom #sk8 the infinity hcs #sk8 the infinity #sk8 the infinity headcanons #sk8 the infinity imagines #sk8 the infinity x reader #kaoru sakurayashiki

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blxetsi · 4 years ago

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modern eren jaeger dating headcanons

lowercase intended !

college!eren jaeger x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of p*rnhub

- firstly, this man is CONVINCED it was love at first sight (he ALWAYS tells you this too)

- "babe when i met you i just KNEW you were gonna be mine" "no you didnt" "yes i did- hey dont stop holding me 😣"

- you guys met because you were tutoring him. (he was failing history 😔💔)

- after weeks of shy touches and shared giggles he FINALLY brought his grade up and didnt need you anymore

- that didnt mean he didnt want you tho ;)

- asked you out on a date (and by that i mean to a party smh 🙄)

- and the rest is history 😌✨

- hes the kind of guy that flirts with you even though youre together

- "so uh,, you come here often 😏"

- "eren youre in my apartment 😐"

- he tries to invite you everywhere that he goes with his friends

- like,,, EVERYWHERE

- jean and reiner wanna organize a boys night ? hes pulling out his phone getting ready to text you and saying "oh is it okay if y/n comes ? i didnt get to see them much this week i miss them 🥺" like mf this is for The Boyz 😡😤🥶🥵🔥‼️

- youre weirdly close with sasha, shes just really cool

- eren will call you at the most inconvenient times for the stupidest reasons

- one time he called you while you were doing an INTERVIEW for work and you wanna know what he called you for ? to tell you he bought a bunch of silly string to use on jean.

- bitch im trying to get PAID. rn . trying to make a LIVING. so i dont end up below the POVERTY LINE. tell me about ur silly string after i secure the bag 🙄‼️

- is very touchy. like very touchy.

- but also respects bounderies

- hes NEVER mad when you have something to say about him or your relationship together

- you dont feel comfortable with the pda ?? He Wont do it Again

- you think you two could work on communicating better with each other ?? hes already googling ways to do that

- he cares and cherishes you and the bond you two have created together, hes not gonna try and ruin that

- is a fucking lightweight. dont go with him to parties.

- but if you asked him to hold his drink he will NOT forget about it.

- a couple times he broke the plastic cup he was gripping it so hard 🤩

- is also the type of guy to just protect others ?? like for no reason

- he sees a guy trying to get close to a girl who had made it abundantly clear that she didnt want that ?? hes going over there and playing bf to protect that stranger

- he can thank first year drama class for his superb acting skills 😌✨

- will literally help anyone he sees in a bind

- also his brother is weirdly cool ??

- his parents live far away but his brother only lives like,, 40 minutes away from the university

- hes like an older brother to everyone 🤩

- if you like reading classic literature zeke is your guy to talk to. has so many ideas and opinions on those stories and stuff, and will NOT hesitate to lend you a book of his

- eren has led lights in his room. he ALWAYS has them on the colour red

- he doesnt understand why ppl think hes horny bc of the red lights ?? his eyes just adjust better to the red lights compared to the blue 😔

- he has stretch marks all over his body 🤩 like on his biceps, tummy, back, thighs, etc. etc. doesnt really think about them anymore but he used to be SO self conscious of them in highschool. he saw berty (bertholdt) with his shirt off once during his freshman year and saw how he had stretch marks too, and immediately thought they were cool

- he likes to play with your hair and scratch your scalp, but he likes it when you braid his hair because he thinks it makes him look pretty

- will get you weird things because they remind him of you

- one time he came to pick you up for your date and before you could even KISS HIM hes pushing you away and pulling out a tiny ceramic frog 😐

- "no you dont understand zeke took me to a thrift store today and i found this and it reminded me of you-" "i look like a frog to you ? is that what youre saying ?" "NO ! its just so cute, and youre so cute so i had to get it. do you like it 😊"

- doesnt like most meats, his only exceptions are chicken,

- thats it 😐

- you guys were having a picnic and you made sandwichs (with the sliced turkey meat) and he took one bite out of it, looked you in your face, and spit it back into the baggy without breaking eye contact

- likes just laying in bed with you. has a playlist of songs like arctic monkeys and shit like that, just sitting in the dark with a song on low volume, whispering whatever he wants into your ear is like,, the DEFINITION of love in his book

- also can and will recite lines from shakespeare plays to you ?? will be at the most randomest times. you could be sweeping and he'd just wrap his arms around you before whispering "two households, both alike in dignity. in fair verona where we lay our scene. from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean."

- okay mf this isnt english class 😐‼️ but thank you 😁👍

- will always try and do new tiktok trends and make funny videos so he can "blow up"

- he gets on average like 20 views 🤩

- he likes seeing you and his friends get along, it just makes him so happy that you love mikasa and armin just as much as he does, and hes so thankful that youre all friends

- likes to help you reach whatever you cant, and if youre taller (even by an inch) hes making you grab things for him

- he doesnt have a major yet, and he doesnt really know what he wants to do with his life, but being a hairstylist sounds cool

- whenever youre having a bad day mentally, he'll just give you your space unless you say otherwise

- he doesnt know if its the best idea, but he knows when he gets into a bad headspace he wants to be alone

- if you do say you want him with you, he'll lie right beside you in bed and spoon you, and if you want he'll put on the arctic monkeys playlist and whisper about the project he worked on for his business class

- he doesnt like sharing, BUT will steal your shit all the time 🙄

- "oh hey heres that thing i borrowed from you" "oh my fucking god eren i thought i lost that months ago"

- may not understand everything he learns in class, but he always tries bc this is his education !! his parents saved up a lot of money for him to be able to go to university !! hes gonna try his best to make the most of this

- i feel like he would play baseball at university. he asks that u wear his jersey to every game so "everyone knows that the most beautiful person attending this educational establishment is MINE" like,, k ill wear the jersey 🙄🤚

- has a list of the best websites to use to illegally stream movies, anime etc.

NSFW ! -------

- also hates pornhub. knows about all the controversies and shit about the website and doesnt use it. supports smaller porn companies that respect their workers 😁👍

- his parents love you. Im Serious

- carla asks about you all the time (hey mommy 😏) and his dad wonders about you too even though hes more lowkey about it

- always has to open the door for you or pull out your chair for you. no matter what setting youre in he Has to do it bc hes a gentleman

- bohemian rhapsody is his comfort film

- i think eren thinks that Youre the One for him, and this idea is solidified when you two graduate together 😍

- he takes you back to the library where he first met you, gives you a promise ring and just asks you to move in with him, hes not ready for an engagement and he knows you arent either, but he knows that youre it for him, and he just wants to be with you for as long as youll allow it

GAH this felt all over the place and very mediocre but i hope you enjoyed !!! remember asks are open so feel free to request something 🤩

#attack on titan #attack on titan headcanons #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #sasha braus #levi ackerman #eren yeager headcanons #eren jaeger headcanons

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httpsohnpouts · 4 years ago

Text

𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓬𝓴 𝓲𝓷 𝓪 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶.

⊱ pairing: eric x fem. reader

⊱ warnings: i’m pretty sure i wrote ‘ass’ a couple times

⊱ word count: 2.8k

⊱ a/n: i try my best to make my work gender neutral but for my collab pieces where i have a lot to write, i tend to forget to write from all perspectives and therefore found it easier to make them from fem. reader perspectives, i apologise if this upsets some of my readers <3

my first collab piece! @atbzkingdom thankyou for the opportunity! i planned for this piece to be longer and better, please don’t hesitate to give me feedback as i’m still a little unsure on some parts. i’ll possibly edit and rewrite some parts in the future! thankyou and i hope you like it!

⊱ taglist: @heartyyjeno @atbzkingdom @chaoticdeobi

inserting the cassette into its player, the nostalgic melody slowly echoed around the room; you were entranced into a flood of beautiful and precious memories playing on repeat in your mind.

you were seated, cross-legged, on your roommates bed. she had invited you over upon your arrival at campus, to which you gladly took her invite, considering you wouldn’t really have a lot of time to spend with her with classes starting so soon. she was currently parading around in several different dresses, some tight, some loose, some just outright hideous. she claimed she was in a rush - her boyfriend, sangyeon, on his way to pick her up for the party they were attending that night. she ushered you to go with them but you opted out, wanting to get settled in before rushing off to a party.

pulling on the tiny bobbles on your socks, there was a knock at the door, and the next minute you were met with two guys. one in which you assumed to be sangyeon, considering your roommate sprung herself into him upon seeing his face. and the other - someone you didn’t know. that was, until he was introduced to you, as eric sohn.

your second encounter with eric, was - funnily enough - at a party. you were in your last years at college when your friends wanted to let off some steam and somehow had managed to get you to tag along with them. you couldn’t handle your alcohol very well so let’s just say you were pretty befuddled.

“woah, watch where you’re going there, princess” someone chimed.

you were wobbling slightly and accidentally backed up into someone, sending their drink down the front of their shirt.

the next thing you knew, you were being swept up by your legs, your face in vision sight with the person's back, “hey! put me down.” you screeched between each punch of your fist. whoever it was, was really enjoying themselves, chuckling at your childish behaviour.

you were finally put on your feet, coming face to face with the ever-so-rude person who happened to escort you out of the building before a fight occurred. for some odd reason you just felt feisty tonight, probably since you haven’t let yourself loosen up since the start of classes and all of your wild and chaotic energy was protruding through all at once.

“i’m guessing you’re y/n, right?” he looked oddly familiar, as did his voice, but through your blurry and clouded vision, you couldn’t really make out who it was. he must’ve sensed your hesitance, tugging at your wrist before giving you a small high five, “i’m eric.”

ever since that night, he would take you out somewhere. and for someone who hadn’t explored much or had never even gone out of their comfort zone, it meant you had a lot to see and a lot to learn.

your favourite hangout had got to be the night where he drove the two of you to an outdoor cinema, seated on a plaid blanket that laid flat against the grass, your jacket shared between the two of you, your thighs pressing against one another whilst the pillows you brought propped your heads up comfortably to watch the movie playing. every so often, you could smell eric’s perfume as it blew with the wind, intoxicating you almost. without him realising, his hand would unconsciously fall and lay on your thigh, you ignored it however, knowing he didn’t mean it and is something you shouldn’t really be making such a big deal out of.

you were occupied in the screen played before you, giving eric the chance to etch your features into his brain. he had liked you for a while, even before you first saw him in your roommates dorm, sangyeon brought him along, knowing you’d be there and thus giving eric the chance for you to finally meet him. your hair was tied back, checking the weather before leaving knowing it would be windy and figured you’d pull it back to avoid the nuisance of doing it later on, except your baby hairs escaped it’s capture in the bobble and floated around with the direction of the wind. the screen’s light shone and bounced across your face, illuminating it in a way that made you look like you were an angel visiting earth but without the wings and plus, he knew you were real. he couldn’t help himself but to occasionally stare at your hands and wonder what it would feel like fitted between his, wondering how smooth they were. oh, how much he wished he could just squish your hands together right there and then. so he settled for leaving it purposely nearer to you, hoping you’d feel the same as him, yet a little braver by slipping your fingers together. you didn’t, but he figured it was wishful thinking anyways.

or there was another time, where he snook you out of your dorm past midnight just so you could both watch the sun rise. his safe place, he’d never brought anyone there before and he told you just that, causing butterflies to flutter crazily from inside of your tummy. just like how you smiling and letting out a little giggle at one of his lame jokes, he told the boys the same one and earned an eruption of laughter but it just didn’t create the same feeling compared to when you did it.

no. your favourite moment had got to be the moment you realised you loved him. you had been working yourself to the bone upon exams nearing and eric knew this, trying his best to relax you and to take your mind off of everything causing you distress. engulfing you into his warm embrace when the tears began rolling down your face. promising to stay the night with you in his arms to keep you safe and comforted and just so you weren’t alone. it’s also the moment you shared your first kiss.

what followed consisted of a few things. you celebrated your three months together before leaving education to finally turn into your own independent people with individual plans and paths they want to take. in other words: growing up. becoming an adult. and hence, you split. it was hard, at first. eric became your rock, as did you, become his. you never left each other’s sides and maybe that was why it was so hard for the long distance to work. you were both affectionate, both two loving and caring soles that just needed that physical touch, facetime can only go so far.

the door chimed, indicating someone had come through the door, “hi, welcome to moonlight’s diner what can i get for you?” you cringed at your superficial tone of voice as you casted a smile to the new customers, one of which left to find the pair a table. what a cute couple.

the woman was pretty, the way the sun shone through the open glass windows as she peered behind you at the menus, “hi, can i get two hot chocolates and chocolate chip muffins please?” she gleamed, fiddling with the cash notes she held in her hands as she looked at you expectedly.

“of course,” imputing the order into the cash register, excusing yourself as you went to prepare her order as she left to accompany her friend.

you were quite used to the machines at the diner, considering you had worked there long enough to learn everything like the back of your hand, so it only took you a couple of minutes before making your way to the table, placing each saucer and plate in front of the two, concentrating too much to notice the eyes watching your every moment.

“here’s your order and the bill, enjoy.” pushing the tray between the fold of your arm as you slid them the bill, only just having the chance to spot the man sat opposite the woman you served at the counter.

“oh hey y/n.” eric spoke, flashing his pearly whites as he began to stir his hot chocolate, “i haven’t seen you in… years. it’s nice to see you again.” the girl now staring at you instead, curious as to how eric knew you.

turning on your heel, wanting to get out of the situation as quickly as you could, you were just about to leave but god had other plans for you, “hey, i’m hanna, eric’s girlfriend. nice to me you.. y/n.”

you didn’t see eric for weeks after the encounter with his girlfriend. nothing much happened after that, your manager had called for you from the back room to tell you it was the end of your shift and how you could go home. not even sparing eric or his girlfriend a second glance or word, you gripped the tray tighter and scurried out the door, not caring to even say much as a goodbye or see you tomorrow.

“so that’s y/n, huh? is that why you brought me here?” eric had been watching you leave, you looked different from the last time he saw you. god, he couldn’t imagine you being any prettier but there you were; proving him wrong. proving to him that he never actually stopped loving you. all those nights he would stay awake silently hoping you would surprise him at his dorm and you never leave his side again, “was a surprise for the both of us it seems.”

he met hanna through a mutual friend from his baseball team. they weren’t really that close, only a few civil greetings shared between the two but when he stopped eric in his tracks on the way out of the changing room, pleading him to go on a date with his love-struck friend, there wasn’t much to lose. he was lonely and she reminded him of himself; bubbly, energetic, and hence, they started dating, seeing one another more often. something he wasn’t able to do with you. he told hanna all about you. the girl he was once head over heels with, quite frankly, she knows everything about you. as do his group of friends.

except, the difference is, they met hanna and hardly know anything of her. but you, someone they have yet to meet, hell, they know everything from how you can’t eat dairy due to your intolerance to how when you were a child, you got bit by a donkey and still have the scar on your wrist. it wasn’t pleasant, comparing the both of you. you both have different traits, different personalities, different styles, you were polar opposites. and maybe that’s why things weren’t working well between eric and hanna and why he still loves you. you match him like a missing puzzle piece. hanna knew it too, but she was too blind sighted by the four letter word called love, that she didn’t want to lose eric. maybe it was out of nerves or worries, not knowing what the future had planned for her: would she ever get married? have kids? would she even meet another boy if she broke up with eric? she was being selfish really, but she couldn’t help it… especially when she saw the sparkle in his eye and the fond, lingering smile on his face by just the slight glimpse of your shadow.

it seemed like someone in the clouds above were playing some kind of god, putting scattered pieces together. almost like a person putting a broken jigsaw puzzle back together, nothing happening too fast, but also too noticeable for it to be just a coincidence.

life was hard, to say the least. some days better than others, some appearing as though it’ll never end and whilst some, you wished would stay around forever. but that’s how it goes, time still ticks on and moves through the waves of reality and if you just happen to stumble and trip, there’s the risk of never being fully able to catch up. time. something that is very limited, something people take for granted, that some people have too little of and others struggling to stay just one foot in front of; the fear of falling behind being all too real.

“penny for your thoughts?”

he spoke, breaking the tranquility that filled the empty playground.

“how funny, sohn.”

“so tell me,” he softly murmured, turning on his side to look directly at your side profile, “what brings you here? this is where we always went during school on our breaks.”

you nod, “i know. it brings peace, you know? i like it here.”

to which the male simply nodded.

“and you? shouldn’t i be asking you the same thing?”

“me and hanna broke up. came here to clear my head.”

“oh.”

abruptly, eric stood up, his hand outstretched towards you as he dragged you to your feet, “c’mon, we’re going to get ice cream from that place around the corner.”

and with that glimmering smile, you couldn’t refuse.

“and that, is how sunwoo managed to get stuck inside of our dorms dustbin.”

“so, you’re telling me, at half three in the morning, sunwoo climbed into a tiny ass desk bin as he wanted to prove to you that he could get from one side to the other in thirty seconds or less?” letting out a cackle, your head thrown back as your hand covered the ice cream in your mouth.

sighing, “i miss how things used to be.” putting your spoon into the ice cream tub, resting your chin in your palms as you stared at the scenery occurring outside of the parlour, “i feel the same.” eric replied, huffing a little whilst his lips protruded into a pout as he copied your form, looking at you.

“want to restart?”

“restart?”

“yeah- why not? i’m not saying forget about what’s happened, just, i miss you.”

popping the spoon back into your mouth, a small smile forming on your face, “me too.”

eric was true to his word, every chance your schedules allowed, were you spending time with one another. like nothing had ever changed, and that you were still in school.

but there you were, sprawled across eric’s bed in his small - one man - apartment. both of you laid beside one another on your backs whilst observing the coloured star projector he had pointing to his ceiling.

“hey y/n?” eric whispered, closer to your ear than you expected, the tip of his nose rubbing against the shell of your ear slightly.

copying him, your noses now skimming each other but neither of you daring to move, “yeah?” you whispered back. unknown as to why you were whispering, possibly not wanting to burst the bubble the two of you were entranced in.

“do you miss us?”

smiling slightly before it dropped, recalling all the memories from your younger years, when you lost the love of your life, your best friend, the person who was always there in your time of need. just like you were to him, “i never stopped.”

never did your feelings for eric disappear, some might say you were meant to be together; soulmates your friends and family would say.

in which, probably explains why you were here to begin with, the same place, the same position, the same old

ceiling with the star projector. except, this time you were saying goodbye.

goodbye to eric’s one-man apartment, your life together with your identical rings located on your ring fingers as tiny hands held each of your empty hands. leaving heartbreak in the past, and focusing on loving one another for eternity whilst bringing up your two children that came after three years of marriage.

maybe it was always meant to be this way. maybe you’re meant to go through hard times to be stronger for the person you were always meant to be.

the puzzle was complete, and your happy family decorated the pieces. memories were memories for a reason. what was important was to live in the present, to stop daydreaming of the past, things that could’ve been better, regrets, mistakes- all made and done, but accepting you for you. and being complacent with that.

maybe you’d be stuck inside a daydream for the rest of your life, especially during the tough times. or just maybe, life itself is your daydream.

a knock on the door was what brought you out of your trance, and there you were - seated, cross-legged, on your roommates bed when her suited up boyfriend waltzed in with a familiar man trailing behind him.

eric sohn, the infamous, and handsome, baseball player on campus. the same boy of whom you’ve harboured a crush on for as long as you could remember and-

oh my god?! is he walking up to you?! okay y/n, stay calm!

“hi. i’m eric sohn.”

and that’s where the cassette stops.

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beomglocks · 4 years ago

Text

unlikely allies ; txt x reader

part: three ,,,, next chapter / previous chapter

plot: when a zombie apocalypse breaks out in your town, you’re forced to team up with a group of boys from very different social standards in your school.

genre: fluff, angst, horror i guess?, not really that scary but alright, some funny moments

w/c: 4.2K

warnings: blood, gruesome scenes (kind of really detailed), cursing, everyone hates each other, definitely some major injuries, zombies duh, everyone kinda pining for mc

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

"do you even like me?" this is the part where he hurts you. you wouldn't say you had strong feelings for yeonjun but you did think he was good looking. even though he was mostly mean to everyone you hoped he would change and be a good link to the tiny group you all formed.

"i think so, i don't really know yet to be honest," he answers you. you nod and sigh, satisfied with his answer towards you for now. "sorry for what i said earlier. you weren't being childish, i'm sorry i couldn't help you back then, and im sorry for starting that fight."

you reassure him that its fine but you still feel a weird pit in your stomach worrying about beomgyu. you hope he's ok.

after your little moment with yeonjun in the janitor's closet, you and yeonjun decided it's best to just not talk about it. you figured it's best to just leave that where it happened. you weren't sure how the incident would affect the group dynamic but you hoped yeonjun wouldn't bring it up to anyone.

you didn't even have strong feelings for him either so you felt like it wasn't that big of a deal. apparently, yeonjun didn't seem to have strong feelings for you either but you knew his persona. he would probably hold it over everyone else in the group like some kind of weird achievement.

you both stepped out of the janitor's closet with caution. there seemed to not be any zombies located in the hall you were located at. they must've all migrated elsewhere in the school to find more victims to consume. after surveying the hall for any threats, yeonjun nods back at you. you step out and let out a breath.

"where to?" yeonjun asks. the only place you could think of to go to was back to the principal's office. there were no threats there and it's where taehyun and soobin were located. well you hoped they were there. you told them not to follow you but you weren't sure if they had listened to you. it would only make sense for them to not more and stay in a relatively safe space like the principal's office.

"taehyun and soobin are at the principal's office," you mumble. you're already on your way there when yeonjun suddenly gains speed, rushing more ahead than you. "hey!" you shout in alarm. not loud enough to alert anything that may be near but just loud enough to catch yeonjun's attention. you weren't about to be left in the dust to anything lurking in the darkness behind you again.

yeonjun doesn't give you the time of the day, simply chuckling at your previous statement. you rush after him, not really sure about his newfound attitude.

once you both arrive at the principal's office, yeonjun slams the door open with more force than you thought he possessed. your eyes widen at how he seems to not care about the fact that you guys are supposed to be laying low. you start to grow angry at how irrational he can be. "yeonj-"

"you fucking asshole!" yeonjun growls, cutting you off. on the floor of the office are taehyun and soobin. the baseball team's equipment and all the contents of the first aid kit are littered all over the floor. they seemed to have been looking over the supplies you all have gathered over the past hour. taehyun stares up at yeonjun with alarm written all over his face over how loud he's being. soobin looks up at yeonjun bewilderingly, not anticipating his presence.

"dude-" soobin starts. yeonjun cuts him off with a solid punch to the jaw. you stand by the door in shock at what's happening. you figured yeonjun would've learned from past experience not to make a commotion by fighting but of course, you can't expect too much from him.

soobin holds his jaw in disbelief but quickly recovers, retaliating with a strike of his own. both boys start to go at it with each other in a matter of seconds. you swear every time with them is like a flash of deja vu. this time won't be like the last though, you're not getting split up like last time and you know if they keep fighting they may alert anything that could be out there.

you see taehyun scramble to gather up everything on the floor so that nothing gets damaged from the tussle happening just inches from him. you know that he's very limited as to what he can and cannot do, so you know he wouldn't opt for breaking up the fight with an injured hand. comparing your strength to that of soobin's or yeonjun's leaves you with no option. you wouldn't possibly be able to break up a fight between them, they're way too into the zone.

you catch a glimpse of the gun soobin had used on you and taehyun when you both first arrived at the office. you run towards it's spot on the floor and grab it. when you stand back up, you point the gun towards the two boys on the floor. "hey!" you shout. you really hope nothing outside heard you but you hope it's loud enough to catch both of their attention. you manage to catch taehyun's attention who's staring at you wide eyed.

"what the hell are you doing!" he says worriedly. you ignore him, cocking the gun back. it makes a loud click noise that reverberates throughout the room. the two boys on the floor stop fighting to stare up at you with alarm. soobin who is on top of yeonjun takes his hands off yeonjun's neck to hold them up in surrender. he looks like a lost puppy and you want to coo at him but decide against it. you wave the gun to indicate for him to get off yeonjun and he complies silently. you then point the gun at yeonjun who scrambles to kneel on his knees. he too holds his hands up in surrender and when you wave the gun for him to shuffle further away from soobin he complies.

"im not gonna shoot either of you," you assure. you hear taehyun let out a breath of relief. you weren't that dumb, you knew that shooting the gun would cause an extremely loud sound that would attract anything even just in the area. plus, you wouldn't shoot anyone on your team.

"just stop fucking fighting for once!" you exasperate. you drop the gun, walking around the room. both soobin and yeonjun are still in their respective positions, so you take that as a sign to continue. "we're living through whatever this is, together! you both are being selfish by fighting with each other. it's not just about you both but me! and taehyun!" you purse your lips looking between yeonjun and soobin.

"if you would've kept fighting who knows what could've been just around the corner. we would've been done," you say sternly. "yeonjun you should know this already since it's because of your fight with beomgyu that we got split up in the first place!"

"if you wanna keep fighting take it out into the halls and get eaten by those zombies but don't put taehyun and i in danger because of whatever it is that's going on between you two," you finish off by sighing. you're glad you got that off your chest because it was really starting to bother you. so far every problem you've encountered was started off by a fight of some sort and you really hoped it would stop.

you walk up to taehyun and sit near him to cool down. up until now, you'd say he was the most level headed out of the group. after a beat of silence, soobin is the first to speak up, "im sorry." you're not sure who he's apologizing to. yeonjun? you and taehyun? you frankly don't care enough to ask. yeonjun says nothing as he stands up to sit somewhere. he folds his arms over his chest like a child who hasn't got his way. "what now?"

taehyun speaks up this time. "i think if there's a chance to find anyone else we should, we have to do at least one more round of the school just in case." you nod along to his statement. there could be a possibility of someone still alive out there. soobin shakes his head, "hell no, there's no way there are people still alive. by this point, there's probably a whole hoard of zombies out there. there's absolutely no way anyone is alive."

"we have to try," you encourage. "i'm willing to take a chance," taehyun adds. you see yeonjun roll his eyes. "is there a problem with that plan?" you ask in a challenging tone.

he shrugs, "nope, there are no problems. im in," he sighs, looking up at you through his lashes. this time you roll your eyes. you can't believe you actually kissed him before, he's unbearable. you turn to soobin, who looks unsure.

"come on soobin, if you go solo at this point you're for sure going to die. i don't want that," you say lightly. you really don't want that, you don't want anyone that you've met so far to die. it would haunt you forever.

taehyun and yeonjun frown at your statement but you don't notice. all of your attention is on soobin. he looks up at you and he swears he can see a halo above your head, "fine i'll go with you. who knows you might need my help?" he smirks at you. at this, you finally laugh your first genuine laugh of the day which feels refreshing.

taehyun clears his throat which cuts off your little moment. "we're gonna be helping each other ok?" you look over to him and he looks a bit annoyed. you make a mental note to talk to him later to see what's on his mind. "y/n is a priority to me," soobin shrugs. you don't pick up on the implications his statement has but taehyun and yeonjun seem to. before you can think deeper about what that could mean, soobin adds, "it's just because they seem like the glue this team needs."

"bullshit," yeonjun says under his breath. soobin chuckles, turning to look back at yeonjun who's sitting nonchalantly at the principal's desk, "there you go saying shit under your breath again."

"what about it?" yeonjun challenges. soobin is about to stand up when taehyun gets in front of his frame to stop him. "just stop," he says calmly. you know he's irritated just by the way he's looking at soobin. you seriously think he has some prior beef with the purple-haired boy.

"let's just go survey the school then get the hell out of here and find some help," taehyun deadpans. you watch him pick his book bag up from the floor and shove the first aid kit in it. everyone takes this as the hint to get up and get a move on.

before leaving the safety of the principal's office, you all check around to see if there's anything that could be of use. of course there's nothing except for the gun soobin found prior to your arrival. you decide to let him keep it since he seems capable enough of wielding it. taehyun gives you and yeonjun some gear and metal bats for defense. you all also check yourselves in case any of you need medical assistance. since soobin and yeonjun got into that fight earlier you patch both of them up quickly.

"ok we ready?" taehyun asks. you all nod and yeonjun is the first to step out into the hall. he first sticks his head out to check if the coast is clear and when he confirms it is, he completely steps out. "this is weird but im not complaining," he shrugs. you do find it a bit off that there aren't any zombies in your hall but don't dwell on it.

"we should still keep our guard up," soobin says, walking ahead of the group. he and yeonjun walk a little further while you and taehyun straggle behind. you take this opportunity to catch up with him. "hey whats up?"

he smiles at you but it fades as soon as it appears. "i know i said all that but what if we don't find anyone? what if beomgyu is dead? what if we're just walking straight to our deaths?" he rambles. he's not speaking loud enough for the other two boys to hear. you nod, "well if we die, we died trying? we're gonna find beomgyu though and we're gonna find another living person. we're gonna make it out of here alive taehyun, we've got each other," you reassure.

he smiles, nodding at the ground. you see his smile fall once again, "where did you go earlier when you left?" damn it, you hoped he would just forget about that. "i was worri- soobin and i were pretty worried that we wouldn't ever see you again, but we stayed put in case you came back."

you bite your lip trying to find the best way to phrase what happened between you and yeonjun. you're not sure why you're trying to hide it, it's not like taehyun really meant anything to you other than someone who you didn't want dying. "well i was just walking and i ran into yeonjun. we talked for a bit and just went back to the principal's office."

well it's not like you're lying to him. you're just not saying the complete truth.

"you should be careful around yeonjun...and soobin too," taehyun warns. you raise your brow at this. up until now taehyun had been pretty passive around the other boys but for him to be trying to steer you away from them raises some questions. "why?" you ask.

"i just feel like they have bad intentions towards you...i don't know. they might want to sacrifice us to stay alive," taehyun mumbles. "plus i don't like how close soobin gets to you, it feels weird."

you look at him surprised. "soobin is a good guy. i know he gets into a lot of fights but he's kind. please don't worry too much." taehyun rolls his eyes at your naivety but says nothing else. you grab his hand for extra encouragement but don't notice how he gets choked up at your sudden touch.

"we'll be ok."

"what are you guys doing back there?" yeonjun calls out. you see him and soobin eyeing your intertwined hands. yeonjun narrows his eyes and pokes his tongue through his cheek. soobin has his lips pursed. "someone needed a pep talk!" you joke. you pull taehyun along to catch up with them, your hands still intertwined.

"uh huh..." yeonjun breathes. soobin says nothing, simply walking away silently.

in that moment you all suddenly hear someone yell out in pain. soobin stops in his tracks and all your eyes widen. "it came from the boy's bathroom!" soobin exclaims. you all run off in that direction. when you arrive you all run to where the stalls are and see someone on the floor with a zombie on top of them. "SOMEONE PL-PLEASE HELP!" the person yells.

taehyun lets go of you to run towards the zombie and the person. the zombie is snarling and snapping at the person while they scream out wildly. taehyun takes out his bat from behind him and swings it just at the perfect angle to send the zombie's head flying to the nearby wall. it's blood spurts out all other the person on the floor and some of it gets on taehyun. he visibly cringes as the body slumps over whoever is on the floor.

taehyun uses his bat to move the undead body. it's inner limbs slide off the person and taehyun's jaw drops.

"b-beomgyu?"

everyone unfreezes at that moment to rush over to his side. he's still on the ground and he looks traumatized with fear. his eyes are wide open and his lips are parted and chapped. his eyes dart to you and he suddenly breaks out into shaken sobs. "h-h-help m-me," he says in between sobs.

your heart is beating rapidly and you're not really sure what to do. too many things are happening at once. you run your eyes over his frame and notice that he's holding his wrist tightly. it's quite bloody, a little too bloody for your liking and a sinking feeling grows within you.

"b-beomgyu? beomgyu? a-are you ok?" you say shakily. nobody is really sure what to do so you motion to taehyun to hand you the first aid kit. you look up at yeonjun and taehyun, "could you guys guard the door while i see what's wrong. soobin please help me, i wanna lean him against the wall."

they all nod, yeonjun and taehyun take their positions at the door while soobin helps you situate beomgyu by the wall. here you can look over him properly. his breathing is shallow and his eyes are only fixated on you. "y/n be careful," soobin warns. you bring your hand up to his fluffy hair which is untamed and all over the place now. you use the same hand to wipe off some blood from his face.

"i-i think- i think-" beomgyu tries to speak but he seems to be in shock. anyone would be at this point. it reminds you of the situation you were in earlier. "please breathe," you say. you hope you sound calm but you know your voice is shaky.

he winces as he tightens his hold on his wrist. "beomgyu w-what happened to your wrist?" you ask. you don't really want to know at this point but you ask anyway.

"i- i- think i got b-bit," he says painfully.

more tears start to fall from his face now that he's said it out loud. you see soobin reach for his gun and your eyes widen. you grab soobin's arm to stop him and he jolts back. "h-he's bit," soobin mumbles in fear. beomgyu shakes his head violently as if he can't believe it himself.

"w-wait no i-im not bit i-i swear! i j-just th-think!" he removes his hand from his wrist and you gasp in horror. soobin's jaw drops too. beomgyu's wrist has incredibly deep teeth marks that almost go all the way through. there's blood gushing from the wound and pale veins run up his arm.

soobin swiftly backs away from beomgyu, standing up and pulling the gun from his back pocket. beomgyu looks up at soobin with tears streaming down his face and his lip is trembling violently at the sight of the weapon. you throw yourself in front of beomgyu's resting body on the ground. "NO!" you yell.

you hear beomgyu behind you poorly try to muffle his cries, "i- i- don't wanna die please."

"soobin," you warn. "y/n h-he's bit. he's gonna turn if i don't kill him. would you rather him be a living dead?" he motions the gun to the side indicating for you to move but you don't budge. there are now tears streaming down your face. you don't wanna see your friend get shot right in front of your face.

"what's going on in there? is beomgyu ok?" you hear taehyun yell from the entrance. soobin bites his lip contemplating on whether or not to snitch. you shake your head slowly. you don't want everyone being wary of beomgyu's current state. yeonjun for sure will want to kill beomgyu and taehyun will probably agree to it because he's scared.

"b-butterfly knife," beomgyu mumbles weakly. you turn to look at him and he looks really drained. you don't know how long it takes for someone to transform but you hope it's not quick. "w-what?" you lean into him. "y/n don't get close to him like that!" soobin warns, getting closer to beomgyu while holding the gun out.

"c-cut it o-off," beomgyu suggests. you and soobin share a look of surprise. cut it off? that could work and stop it from spreading to his entire body but cutting off someone's hand was something neither of you has ever had to do. you think you'd throw up seeing that much blood.

"i-" beomgyu breathes out. "i trust you." he uses his free hand to take the knife out from his pocket. he was carrying a knife this whole time? now that you think about you do remember he was using one in the hallway before this all started. "b-but i never- i nev-" your eyes widen when beomgyu uses his little bit of energy to launch himself forward to kiss you.

it doesn't last long since soobin immediately shoves him back to the wall. "don't do that," soobin says assertively. this time he presses the gun directly onto beomgyu's skull. "i-if i turn i h- i hope i bite y-you first," beomgyu spits. soobin rolls his eyes, "one bullet and you're gone, don't test me."

"soobin please just move," you sigh. you look at beomgyu pitifully. he looks like shit and you hope that if you all get out of this, that he gets proper medical help. "d-don't look a-at me like that," he chuckles forcefully. he doesn't seem ashamed of the kiss, he must not care because he figures he's going to die in a couple of minutes.

you say nothing as you wrap a band around his arm tightly. you grimace as you tightening it causes it to gush out more blood. you see beomgyu trying not to scream out in pain. "i-its gotta be tight, im sorry," you explain. he just nods.

you open the bottle of alcohol and messily pour it over the wound, causing it to string. "s-shit!" beomgyu yells out. "im sorry," you mumble. you take the numbing cream out of the kit and bite your lip. the bottle is too small, it won't possibly cover the entire wounded area.

you try your best to cover it as much as possible but you know he's still going to feel a bit of it. "you're gonna need to bite on something, it's gonna hurt."

you send soobin to fetch you a toilet paper roll. there's not much toilet paper on it so you figure it'll fit in his mouth. "its the best we can do," you place the toilet paper roll between his lips gently and he immediately bites down on it. he makes a noise of acknowledgment.

just then yeonjun runs back into the bathroom. "what the fuck is g-" his jaw drops at the sight of beomgyu's wound and you holding a knife to his wrist. "h-he's bit?" he whispers. you shake your head, not wanting to talk at this moment. you don't want beomgyu to get worked up again by being constantly reminded that he's gotten bit.

(now that im reading over this it could be potentially triggering, just skip over this! don't worry it's just cutting his hand off! to save the details)

you place the blade to beomgyu's wrist and he sucks in a breath. "i-it'll be over soon," you assure. tears are freely falling from your eyes just like beomgyu although his are more furious. soobin flinches himself as you start to cut. yeonjun turns away, walking back towards the entrance to save himself from seeing that. he also warns taehyun not to inside if he doesn't wanna see that.

beomgyu is shrieking madly but it's muffled by the toilet paper. his body is thrashing wildly from the contact of the blade through his body. it's foreign and it hurts, he doesn't like it. you take this as your cue to go quicker to save him from the excruciating pain.

(end of scene if you skipped!)

it takes a couple of minutes but you finally manage to amputate beomgyu's hand. you don't know how you managed to hold back the bile in your throat but you did. soobin had to step out due it being too much to handle so you were now left alone with a very drained beomgyu. he was staring at you with a dazed look.

he didn't seem to have turned so you figure he's ok for the most part, he just needs time to recover from the shock of having his hand cut off. you've wrapped it in so many bandages that you think he probably can't even feel it at that point.

"this might be a stupid question but how do you feel?" you ask.

he smiles at you weakly. "at least im not dead," he jokes. you smile lightly at him, shaking your head. "c-could you run your hands through my hair...it's comforting." you comply, sitting next to him against the wall and running your hands through his hair. it's still messy and his forehead is riddled with sweat so you hope you can make him look at least a bit better, not that it matters.

"thank you," he mumbles. you sigh, "im sorry this happened to you. we should've never gotten split up." you know there's really nothing you could've done but you still feel the need to apologize for something at least. "it's my fault for wandering off, i was being stubborn," he explains softly.

you both don't say anything after that but he turns his head towards you, looking down at your lips. he was probably taking that time to contemplate whether or not to kiss you again.

you let him. on the floor of the grimy school bathroom where he got bit and where he got his hand amputated. you let him kiss you.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

taglist: @fxd-skz @jinniehyunjin @foreignswagger17 @bluemoonnightmare @srcasticking-main @shuichi-sama @hyunjinsicedamerican0 @groovybiscuitdiplomatpeach @cutiegyu @gyyuniverse @strykiss @minari-iii @minheesmini @cha-raena @yuto-darling @hyunjinhasmyheart @whateveryouwant90

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honey-dewey · 4 years ago

Text

Finding the Right Voice

Frankie Morales/Mute and chronically ill Reader

Word Count: 1,804

Warnings: Reader is both mute and has gastroparesis. Reader throws up once.

After much pestering from the boys, Frankie reluctantly signs up for a dating app, intending for it to be a joke. Until he falls in love. You and him text daily, getting to know each other so intimately despite never meeting. At least, never meeting until Frankie wants to take you on a date. So how the hell are you going to explain to him that you are constantly ill and will never speak again?

Frankie had always thought dating apps were a waste of time. Who the hell actually met the love of their life through the Internet?

Frankie Morales, that’s who.

Of course, he’d been hesitant to tell the boys he’d found someone, mostly because he knew they’d give him shit about it. And they did, of course. But now, months after meeting someone, they realized Frankie was genuinely happy and toned the teasing down.

“I’m just worried!” Frankie said, staring at his phone. “They haven’t responded in days.”

“Dude,” Benny said, gesturing with his beer bottle. “They’re probably just busy. Or out somewhere with shit cell service. I dated a girl like that. She went on vacation with her parents and didn’t call for like. Two weeks. Thought she’d died. But when she got back.” He leaned back, smiling drunkenly. “The apology sex was mind blowing.”

“Okay!” Santiago interjected, throwing an arm around Frankie’s shoulders. “You think they’re on vacay, Fish?”

Frankie shrugged, grabbing his own beer. “I dunno. They aren’t the vacationing type.”

William snorted from across the table. “Just like they aren’t the phone call or meet in person type?”

Immediately, Frankie knew where this was going. “Ironhead.”

“I’m just saying!” William pointed out. “How do we know that Catfish isn’t being, well, catfished.”

Frankie sighed into his bottle. “I don’t wanna talk about it Will.”

Santiago, who was somehow the voice of reason here, nudged Frankie. “You texted yet today?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you?” Santiago suggested. “Then leave it alone for a while. I doubt they’re meaning to leave you, they seem too nice.”

Frankie picked up his phone and opened his texts. Aside from the group chat he had with the boys, the aforementioned number was the last one he’d texted.

Frankie: Hey, haven’t heard from you in a bit. You doing okay?

Twenty miles away from the bar Frankie was in, you were leaned over the toilet in the hospital, hurling away what little applesauce you’d eaten for dinner.

Sitting back against the cold tile of the hospital bathroom wall, you sighed deeply upon hearing your phone ping. Who the hell wanted to talk to you right now?

Of course, it was Frankie.

Settling down in the bathroom, you unlocked your phone and texted him back.

You: I’m so sorry Fish. I’ve been a bit sick.

Fish: You don’t have to apologize for that. Are you feeling any better?

You snorted softly. As if.

You: Not really. It’s just gotten worse. Spent most of today throwing up.

Fish: You’re drinking water, right? Gotta stay hydrated.

You snapped a photo of your half full water bottle a nurse had brought you and sent it to Frankie.

You: Yep! Gotta finish this before I go to bed.

Fish: That’s good

Fish: Wait a second. Are you in the hospital?

You swore silently. How the fuck? Unless he frequented the same hospital as you, how the hell did he even know where you were from that blurry water bottle photo?

You: Yeah, I got here today. Nothing too serious, I was just too dehydrated

You felt bad lying to Frankie, but you really didn’t want to tell him the truth. The truth was too long, too complicated. Frankie would probably leave if he learned the truth.

Fish: I’m not too far away, if you’re at the hospital I think you’re at. Want me to drive you home when you leave?

You: Nah. I’m staying with family rn and it’s a haul to get out there

Another lie, another stab of pain through your heart.

Fish: Okay. I still wanna take you out though. We could get dinner and walk around the park.

You almost started sobbing.

You: Oh Frankie. I wish I could.

As soon as you typed the message, you deleted it. Best not to let him think anything was wrong. Instead, you took a minute and finally replied with,

You: That sounds lovely Fish.

Fish: But?

You: But I don’t think I can.

Back at the bar, Frankie was slumped over the table, staring at your tiny message of rejection.

“Dude, that’s hard,” Benny commented. “I’m starting to think Will might be right.”

“I’m sorry?” William said, coughing as he swallowed wrong. “Say that again?”

“No.” Benny leaned over the table and patted Frankie’s wrist. “I got nothing dude. Nothing.”

Santiago sighed. “Why don’t we stop giving Fish a hard time?” He said, seeing the hard lines in Frankie’s face appear. “They said they were in the hospital, so maybe it’s really bad.”

“You think?” Frankie asked, looking up with wide eyes.

“Maybe,” Santiago said. “They might not want you to worry about them.”

Frankie looked back at his phone, at the waiting message. He picked his phone up and typed one more message before shutting it off and pocketing it.

Frankie: I just wish I could get to know you. For real.

You stared at your phone, tears sliding down your face. Frankie would never know, if you could help it. He’d never know that you were so sick all the time. That you couldn’t eat anything without hurling it up hours later. That you hadn’t uttered a single word since you’d turned sixteen. That you’d never speak another word again.

Putting your phone away, you abandoned the water bottle and shakily crawled back into bed, sobbing silently into your pillow until you fell asleep.

The next morning, a team of nurses checked you over and deemed you okay to leave the next day. You nodded numbly, absently fiddling with a small stuffed toy as they started your laborious morning routine.

“This came for you last night,” a nurse said as everyone left your room. She placed a worn out baseball cap and a folded note on your bed. “From a very nice gentleman who seemed rather heartbroken.”

The nurse left, leaving you to grab the cap and the note.

The cap was worn out, the edges all frayed and the logo on the front nearly illegible. The note was in much better condition.

Hey.

So, I’m sorry about what I said last night, and I feel like a text wouldn’t have made it better. This is my favorite hat. It’s seen some shit, just like me. And just like you, I think.

Look, last night, I sounded like a dick. I want to make it up to you, I really do. But I don’t know how to take you on a date or anything. I sure hope it isn’t because of me that you don’t want to meet. I know my nickname is Catfish but I promise I’m who I say I am.

Tomorrow, I get off work early. If you’d let me, can I pick you up and take you out? Or at least take you back to my place for a movie or something? Please.

Love, your Frankie.

You ran your fingers over the lettering, memorizing how Frankie wrote every single word. Maybe, maybe it was time to open up. The worst that could happen was rejection.

Scooping your phone up, you texted Frankie back.

You: Tomorrow at 4, that’s when they discharge me. Get here early tho, I have some stuff to explain.

The next twenty four hours were hell for the both of you. You were both plagued by so much anxiety it was hard to do even the most basic of tasks, but you managed. Eventually, you received the text you’d been dreading all day.

Fish: I’m here. Visiting room B.

You took a deep breath. All your personal belongings were in a drawstring bag you put over your shoulder. You headed out of your room and slowly down the hall, towards the visiting room.

Opening the door was the hardest thing you’d ever done.

Once you’d opened the door, you stopped in the doorway, taking Frankie in.

He looked exactly the same as he did in his photos. Tall, handsome, kind. He smiled upon seeing you, and you swore your heart stopped.

“Hello,” Frankie said, moving towards you and holding out his hand.

Hello you signed, waiting for Frankie’s reaction.

He paused, his hand falling to his side. “Mute?”

You nodded.

Frankie simply smiled again. “So that’s why you don’t like phone calls,” he said. “It’s okay. I know some ASL.” He paused, taking you in. “Can I hug you?”

Yes please.

He wrapped you in a warm hug, allowing you to collapse into him. Months of text messages and listening to his voice mails were nothing compared to this.

Eventually, he pulled away, and you two sat on the uncomfortable couch.

“So what’s with the tube?” Frankie asked, gesturing to your face.

You pulled a whiteboard out of your bag and began to write, going slowly so you spelled everything right.

I have a condition called gastroparesis. My stomach is paralyzed and won’t move food to my intestines. I “eat” through a port in my side and this tube in my nose leads to my stomach, so whatever I drink can be drained out. I went mute before I got diagnosed with this.

“Oh.” Frankie blinked a few times. “So I guess dinner is off the table too.”

You snorted, laughing as best you could with no voice. No dinner. you signed happily. But a movie would be nice.

“A movie it is,” Frankie said, standing. “C’mon. I’ve got a bunch of movies at my place. And I think the boys are coming over tonight.”

You stood, following Frankie to his beat up old truck. He talked your ear off about all sorts of things while he drove home, and it wasn’t until he’d pulled into the driveway that you’d remembered his hat.

Close your eyes. You signed, digging around in your bag.

Frankie did, laughing when you snuggly placed his hat on his head.

“Thank you,” he said, taking your hands. “I was really worried you’d catfished me at first. I didn’t know what to think when you didn’t want to call or meet. I dunno, I just thought you weren’t, y’know, you.”

You shook your head, pulling your hands out of his. I wouldn’t dream of it.

Frankie smiled. “I love you.”

I love you too Fish.

That night was the happiest you’d been in years. Frankie’s friends were all amazing people, and all three of them immediately overlooked your muteness and illness. You were happy and Frankie was happy. To them, that was all that mattered.

“So Fish,” Santiago said, leaning across the couch to nudge Frankie’s bicep. “Aren’t you glad we forced you to download that dating app?”

Frankie looked at you, curled up under his other arm, sipping water and waiting for the feed bag with your dinner in it to finish draining into your port. You looked up at him, smiling and nestling closer.

“Yeah. I am.”

#triple frontier #frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #my writing

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stupidbeecandle · 4 years ago

Note

do you have more lighthouse stories?

So there was one lighthouse with a traditional foghorn where I spent most of my time and another lighthouse which was a quiet, inactive one on a far more lush island, it looked kind of like those new Zealand pictures of the shire only in Maine.

The lighthouse I mostly spent time in was on what could barely be defined as an island in a series of other outcroppings barely defined as islands that somehow mustered themselves to qualify as a tiny almost-archipelago. The island was about the size of a football field and made entirely of rocks, gravel, and boulders with the only plants being seaweed that washed ashore and the canned vegetables we kept in the pantry.

There was no electricity or running water but everything was really eco friendly and efficient with how the bathrooms, and kitchen and the like were set up, and there was a huge fireplace in the downstairs living room (later including the moose) that folks slept in front of during the winter months because it was A: warm and B: the room you'd be most likely to survive a storm in because it was rock solid compared to the other rooms which were made of wood and had glass windows.

You had to be familiar with how to survive somewhat to get assigned to this particular location, there were other jaunts you'd had to prove your muster on first like an assignment in a miserably cold bog (with another dead moose, this one incredibly old but perfectly preserved in the bog) or on the lush island I briefly described above which barely qualified as survival training and was more of a nice vacation than anything. Before you could go on any of the assignments you were warned a lot about the local backwoods folk who didn't take kindly to young science nerds island hopping and tagging various birds and critters for our studies. The basic rules were "don't fuck with the locals, and don't fuck the locals". Story went that a few years ago one of the researchers who had been fuckin one of the local girls had been found hanging from a barn rafter a few islands over, about two stories in the air in what the local law enforcement deemed a "suicide".

The island was covered in sea birds which is why my crew was there as a set of researchers. They were incredibly territorial and attacked you if you got near their nests which were pretty much everywhere except the lighthouse and the dock that led up to the lighthouse. They were also stupid as hell because they instinctually attacked the highest point on your body thinking it must be your head so the lot of us would wear one leather glove and raise our hands as we walked anywhere on the island. The birds would peck the fuck out of your hand for a bit then get tired and leave you alone after a while. For a long time after I came back to the mainland, I walked around with one hand raised above my head.

It was windy as fuck there all the time, and even on the days that it was beautiful and sunny in the summer, getting up in the seventies and the like the wind would feel frigid. I lost my baseball cap that I was new enough not to know better than to wear when I first got assigned and after chasing it across the jagged rocks for a few minutes it landed across the thick white "cross at the guarantee of permanent harm to your flesh and bones" foghorn line. My hat was within sight but sadly lost to the ages.

or it would have been if I hadn't spent all my points on intelligence instead of wisdom. My team and I waited until the horn went off and then they shouted a countdown behind me as I sprinted in a mad dash across the rocks that were especially slippery because we never traversed them for research. I grabbed the hat and sprinted back across the white line to cheers of my equally stupid but supportive friends. We went inside to celebrate my accomplishment and my hat, and were met with the appalled looks from the two dudes from the radio crew who explained that they could have just turned the damn thing off and that I was a stupid mother fucker who almost had her brains blown out by the horn. They later insinuated that I might not have actually been in any real danger since I clearly had no brains to lose.

Food sucked but also tasted divine. When you're miserably cold and you get your hands on some hot rehydrated eggs filled with all the amazing protein and nutrients your body needs you want to cry at the flavor and comfort powdered eggs can bring. We kept the beach moose and named him "moose" because we were very creative, but expired critters washed up on the shore fairly regularly. It was a big part of why we were there to study the sea birds who scavaged them. Depending on the critter, the bones would sell for a fortune so it was our job to suspend various sea lions, birds, leatherback sea turtles and the like so the birds would get to them easier and we could collect the bones, treat them, and take them back to the mainland to get passed off to various museums and private collectors depending on the endangered status of the animal.

Once we did a whale. If the foghorn was the loudest noise I have ever heard then, then the whale was the worst thing I've ever smelled. Nobody wanted to clean the dead whale, but it was part of our jobs. We called in backup from the other islands who were also under contract to help. Straws were drawn, friendships were lost, and people wanted to quit but were under contractual obligations to stay.

So it took ages but we cleaned the fucking enormous whale (which was actually a very small whale but still a fucking whale) with the help of some experts who bossed us around. The bones were collected and since this whale wasn't of any endangered status I think it was one of the lots that was sold rather than donated but I never handled the business side of things. There was no running water on the island and so we all smelled like dead whale for ages until we got used to it, cleaned ourselves as best as we could and thought we smelled pretty okay after changing into some clean clothes after scrubbing ourselves with some powder soap, shaving off all of our hair, and changing into some clean clothes.

When crew rotation happened the new seasonal shift arrived (you had to rotate every few months, it was a manditory mental health thing) they threw up when we got on the boat. It was horrible and triggered a chain of almost everyone but our senior field researcher puking. We apparently did not smell as clean as we had hoped and were made to ride in the back of a truck on the mainland because no one would let us in their cars. The lush island was considerably nicer but I don't think quite as interesting

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trashyswitch · 3 years ago

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Logan's Trip to [REDACTED]

Chapter 4: Pure Fluff For a Shorter Day

Logan arrives to the SCP Foundation a little later than usual, making his first day back a bit of a short visit. So Logan has to make his time count.

Logan opened his map and looked at the map. Today was the day he wanted to meet SCP-530. It looked really cute and he really wanted to see what color and different expressions it had right now. Logan took another turn and looked up at the sign above the door.

[SCP-530]

Logan smiled and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a card, placed it into the card reader and waited for the beeping sound. When it went off, Logan removed the card and opened the door.

The room was set up like a dog’s play area, with balls and toys scattered about and different items in it. A dog bed, a food and water bowl, and a dog house decorated the little room. Then a bunch of barks filled the room as a little white and brown dog sprinted up to him.

“BARK BARK! BARK BARK BARK BARK! WARF WARF!” The dog barked loudly.

Logan gasped excitedly and knelt down to pet it almost immediately. “Hellooooo! Hi there, little Carl!” Logan greeted, petting its head.

Carl panted happily and licked his hand. Logan looked down and noticed something strange: The dog had two tongues! One full tongue, and one partly grown tongue! Guess he could do double the kisses for the time being!

Logan smiled eagerly. “I’m Logan! My name is Logan!” He greeted. Logan started petting the dog’s head, back and chin. The puppy panted and panted like it was hotter than haiti in his kennel, and patted the ground with pure excitement with its 5th paw. Logan giggled at this dog-like behaviour. Carl really is a dog. Just with some unusual abnormalities.

Logan picked up the puppy under his armpits and carried him on his shoulder. “Hey there little guy. You’re a small little sweetheart. Yes you are, yes you are!” Logan cooed. Logan booped the dog’s snoot, causing Carl to lick his finger with both his tongues.

“I see that Carl has a new abnormality: Two tongues.” Dr. ████ declared.

Logan looked at the speaker, then at the camera. “Have you never had an instance of two tongues before now?” Logan asked.

“Nope! And we’ve had LOTS of doubles on body parts.” Dr. ████ replied. “Oh! While SCP-530 is here, would you like to meet SCP-529?” Dr. ████ asked.

Logan widened his eyes. The cat?! Dr. ████ wants Carl and the cat in the same room?! “Yes please!” Logan replied happily.

“Very well! Dr. ██████! Please retrieve SCP-529 so Logan and Carl may play with them.” Dr. ████ ordered.

Soon, SCP-529 was walking around and rubbing its body against Logan’s knee. “Aww, hi Josie!” Logan greeted. “Boy, Patton would love to meet both of you. But Patton is allergic to cats.” Logan said to Josie and Carl. Carl barked excitedly and stuck its tongue out. Next, Carl ran to a ball, and pushed the ball up to Logan. He waited for Logan to throw the ball, and knelt down to show ‘I’m ready! Throw it!’.

Logan smiled and threw the ball. Both Carl AND Josie ran for the ball. But Josie was just a tad quicker and managed to pounce right onto the ball. Carl turned to Logan, sitting down and whimpering in a sad way while looking down. It looked like Carl was trying to say ‘She stole my ball...I sad now.’. Logan smiled, not feeling all that bad for it. Logan threw a ball of yarn and watched Carl sprint for the yarn. It was like the dog and the cat switched toys temporarily! It was so bizarre! And very funny.

Logan allowed the cat to roll around with the ball while Carl pawed nervously at the flimsy yarn. Logan grabbed a nearby baseball and gently threw it to Carl. Carl immediately got into action and took off running to it. He grabbed it, brought it over in an eager strut, and placed it down for Logan to throw it again. “Good boy! That’s a good boy!” Logan reacted, petting him as praise. Carl whimpered and rolled onto his back, begging for belly rubs next. Logan giggled and happily gave him the belly rubs he wanted. Carl stuck his tongue out as he panted, closing his eyes with pure pleasure.

Meanwhile Josie walked up and booped his head against Logan’s other hand. It looked like Josie wanted pets as well. Logan started petting Josie’s ears first, earning a purr from the cat. Next, Logan went for the chin. Josie meowed softly as she lifted her head up to offer Virgil more access to the lovely spot. Logan smiled and petted both animals at once.

The doctor smiled. “Looks like you’re an animal lover.” he said.

Logan nodded. “I do appreciate animals.” Logan admitted.

“There is a horse SCP that we have in a stable and a field at Site 73. Its known as SCP-1156 or ‘Wellington the Wonder Horse’. Would you ever be interested in meeting him?” The doctor asked.

Logan looked at the camera. “I don’t believe I’ve been around a horse before. However, I would love to meet him one day.” Logan replied.

“Very well! We will have you set up for the next visit to the site. The SCP Foundation will provide you with a private jet so you may visit the wondrous horse.” The doctor told him.

“Very well! I can’t wait.” Logan replied.

After some more time with the animals, Logan left the two animals to play with each other. Next on the SCP list, was SCP-131 a and b! Logan had been missing them and really wanted to visit them for quite some time. And now was his time to do so! Logan walked down a few flights of stairs, even rode down one of the stair handles to get down quicker. But he quickly abandoned the idea the moment hitting the ground gave him a bruised tailbone. Logan rubbed his butt for a moment before running to the next flight of stairs.

Soon, Logan stood in front of the door and looked at the card. He inserted the card, removed it and listened as the door clicked its way unlocked. Then, Logan walked in and looked at the little cute-looking eye pods. It was SCP-131-A & B! Logan smiled widely as the eye pods slid down a tiny slide and rolled up to Logan.

“Hello guys! Hello! It’s been a while, huh?” Logan greeted. The pods jumped around and rolled around in circles, showing their excitement. Then, the eye pods rolled the cars that Logan made, right up to their creator to show him. “I know! I made those for you two to play with!” Logan reacted. Logan started to wonder if A & B remember him for the toys they got. It could be possible.

The SCP’s rolled the cars up to him, and bowed their rain drop tops to the rings that were attached. The eye pods wanted the rings placed into their narrow tops! Logan agreed to help them and placed the rings into their head poles. The eye pods suddenly started rolling absolutely everywhere the moment the rings were placed onto them. They wouldn’t stop driving around with the cars! Logan bursted out laughing as the eyeballs went ballistic with the toy cars.

Then, the eye pods started headbutting a pair of paintbrushes, cups and tubes of paint that laid on the ground. “It looks like they want you to paint their cars.” Dr. ████ explained. “I believe one of the staff members was planning to paint them, but they got caught up in work. But since your job is to meet them and entertain them…” The doctor offered.

“I’ll paint them for A & B.” Logan replied.

“Excellent!” Dr. ████ declared happily. “You may use this paper towel for wiping off the paint if you so choose. And here’s a water bottle for cleaning the brush.” Dr. ████ placed a Dasani water bottle and a roll of paper towel into the dispenser in their room, and listened as the paper made a soft shifting sound into the dispenser, while the water bottle made a ‘CLUNK’ sound into the other end with the paper towel.

Logan nodded, walked to the opening and grabbed the paper towel and water bottle from the dispenser. “Thank you.” Logan told him.

Logan spread some paper towel down and filled the painting cup with the water from the yucky water bottle. Logan also placed some orange onto A’s car little wooden car and started painting. Logan painted in stripes to help the paint smoothen out and go on nicer. Logan then scooped up the blob of access paint on the top of the car, and would start painting the engine roof, the sides and the bottom. Logan looked very precise when painting the car. He looked calm as well. The eye pods watched him with interest and fascination. It was like watching someone do their career in front of them. Logan was really that good! Or at least, it looked like he was.

Logan finished painting SCP-131-a’s car first, and moved onto b’s car. This car was gonna be a slightly darker yellow, compared to the reddish orange that the first car was. Logan wanted to specifically do this because he wanted them to be able to distinctively see which cars were theirs. That way, they can play with their designated cars, or even share the cars and switch up who gets what car color.

Logan finished coloring the cars and let them dry for a bit. While the cars dried on a paper towel-covered stool, Logan played around with the eye pods and ‘became their race track’ for a while. The eye pods moved up Logan’s hands, up the arms slowly, and raced up and down his chest and belly. Logan’s giggles when they got to the belly, made his belly and chest jump around a little. This made the eye pods wobble slightly.

The eye pods ignored his wiggles and giggles, and continued racing slowly on top of Logan’s middle. At one point, eyepod A got stuck on Logan’s dipped belly. This caused the eyepod to rev up its wheel to get going. This tickled SO MUCH for Logan!

“OHOHO GEHEHEHEEZ!” Logan laughed. “WAHAHANT HEHELP WITH THAHAHAT?” Logan asked.

The eye pod shook its head and looked at him with a single smiley eye. Immediately, the eye pod revved up its wheel again and ‘increased the speed’ to tickle Logan more.

“HEHEHEY- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *snort* EEEEHEHEHEHEHE!” Logan laughed and snorted. Well this is certainly a change of pace!

The eye pods bounced up and down and kept going. The bouncing didn’t hurt Logan at all, surprisingly. It just felt like a tiny, weightless puppy jumping on Logan’s belly. The orange eye pod joined the yellow one, and started revving up their wheels at the exact same time!

Logan just about DIED from that. It tickled WAY TOO MUCH! And then the eye pods started alternating revving their wheels...How about AAAAAAH?!

A, B, A, B, A, B...Left, Right, Left, Right, left, right, etc…Talk about infinite tickles!

Logan was cackling and snorting at this point. It was so ticklish! But it felt great! It felt amazing to be back with these cute little guys! They were always so fun and cute to look at! They never failed to occupy him and make him gush in cuteness overload. Even if he gets to see them every single day, he knew he would never get over how cute they were.

Logan allowed the pods to have their fun against his belly for a while. He was not complaining whatsoever. He loved every second of it, no matter how ticklish and tired it made him.

Soon though, the fun had to end. Logan tapped out of the tickles and got up. The pods looked at each other with worry in their eyes. “No no no, don’t worry. It’s okay. I’m alright.” Logan reassured them.

A & B still looked at Logan with worry, and rolled to Logan to nuzzle him with their ball-like bodies. Logan appreciate this gesture and petted the pods as gentle praise. The pods appreciated this praise and closed its eyes as they enjoyed the pets.

Soon, Logan was waving to the eye pods and leaving them be. He felt happy to be able to spend time with them. It’s been a while and...it was definitely worth the wait. Next on Logan’s list, was...you guessed it:

SCP-999!

Logan practically ran his way to the elevator and pretty much bounced on the spot as he rode the elevator. When the elevator opened, Logan walked out and ran for the door.

“LOGAN!” Someone yelled.

Logan stopped and grabbed the Walkie Talkie that had called him. “Yes?” He replied into it.

“A gentle reminder that the last time you were this excited, you had to leave them unexpectedly due to a strong chemical unbalance. I would strongly recommend you take a deep breath so we don’t have a repeat of that incident.” The doctor ordered.

Logan did as he was told and took a few deep breaths to help his excitement dissipate. When he felt fully ready and a lot more calm, Logan put the keycard in to open the door. With the door unlocked, Logan opened it and immediately smiled upon seeing his favorite SCP.

“Hi 999!” Logan greeted.

999 immediately turned around and gurgled lots of happy sounds with the most puppy-like dog eyes it naturally had. Logan ran to 999 and gave the squishy blob a BIIIIIIG hug! 999 gave him a big hug right back and even grew more pseudopods to add more hugging arms! Logan laughed as he felt more squishy arms against his back and neck.

SCP-999 gurgled, squished around and wiggled as excitement filled its body. Logan smiled and pulled his head away from the blob’s body. “How are you?”

999 nodded its head rapidly and ran around the room with Logan in its arms. It made eager gurgling and flopping sounds as it ran around. Logan wasn’t sure how sick he might end up being if 999 kept this up. But, he didn’t care. He enjoyed it anyway.

“WEEEEEeeeee! Okay! Okay that’s good. That’s enough buddy.” Logan told the SCP.

999 stopped running around and picked up Logan. They summoned 2 more pseudopods which grabbed at the waist, while the original two pseudopods grabbed Logan’s wrists as gently as it could. Logan hummed curiously, and was quickly thrown off guard as Logan was held onto primarily by his wrists, making his hands stay raised above his head.

Logan immediately blushed at the vulnerable situation. He couldn’t even look at 999, his face was so red. “Ihihi...Ihihihi should’ve known- BAHAHAHAHAHA!” Logan interrupted himself with his own laughter as 999 tickled Logan with a few new pseudopods. One of them tickled his hip, two of them tickled his belly, and two of them tickled his vulnerable armpits.

Cause, you know: why wouldn’t you attack the vulnerable parts if they’re exposed?

Logan was laughing and squealing as he was tickled in fairly bad spots all at once. Logan didn’t know what to do with himself. So he started off with kicking and shaking his head around as he laughed. He watched the puppy-like 999 as it flopped and gurgled with glee while tickling and skittering its slimy pods on his ticklish spots.

Logan was gonna lose his mind long before his breath was gonna be out, he could tell you that!

“NIHIHINE-NINE-NIHIHIHIHINE! COHOHOHOME OHOHOHOHON!” Logan yelled.

999 tilted its head and smiled. Then, it stuck out its tongue and blepped at him! Logan covered his face with his arm and whimpered. “NOooooooo! You’re tooooo cuuuuute!” Logan whined. 999 shook a bit, laughing at him.

Holy crap that was so cute! Why was that so cute?! Why must 999 be the adorable bean it is?! AAAAAAAAAHHH!

Logan squirmed and kicked 999 as he was tickled and unintentionally teased. His feet kept bouncing back like it was a ball against a big bowl of jelly. It was so weird! 999 was such a strange, mind-altering being that...they really should’ve existed! But, it does! And boy, was Logan grateful!

Logan soon tapped out from exhaustion. 999 quickly stopped and let out a whimpery-kind of gurgle and looked at Logan with a worried face. Logan looked at 999 and practically melted. “Awww, it’s okay. I’m alright, 999.” Logan reassured him.

999 looked up at him and lightened up a little. They smiled brightly and pulled Logan into a big bear hug. Logan smiled and hugged him back, feeling pure joy and nostalgia the longer he stayed with the creature. Logan reached into his bag, and grabbed a few things out of it: A few full bags, a box for a kitty pool, and an air pump. Logan pulled open the previously open box and pulled out the kitty pool before opening the air hole. Logan put the end of the pump into the air hole and started pumping with his foot.

As Logan pumped and pumped and pumped, 999 watched and grew more and more excited as to what it might’ve been. Soon, Logan had filled it completely up. Logan grabbed the bag, opened it, and started dumping out its contents:

Tons and tons of small, flattened plastic balls had started falling out of the bag and into the kitty pool! 999 let out an excited squeal and clapped its pseudopods with joy. “I know! I got you: A ball small ball pit!” Logan declared.

999 started bouncing around and letting out squeaky gurgles in pure excitement! 999 was ecstatic! She wouldn’t stop jumping around! 999 jumped into the kitty pool, and did a BIG flop upon impact! 999’s body started flopping and rippling like an ocean as an aftereffect of the hit, and started playing with all the balls that were in the kitty pool.

There were so many balls! So many to push through! Though some of the balls stuck against 999 as they moved through the balls. Then, 999 grew itself SUUUUUPER tall…

And fell down into the kitty pool like an elastic band, throwing multicolored balls absolutely everywhere! Logan had bursted out laughing as he watched. It was so entertaining to watch a blob play in a ball pit!

“Wow...I don’t think we ever made the connection that 999 would enjoy a ball pit!” Dr. ████ reacted. “And we should’ve at this point!”

Logan smiled. “That’s alright. You couldn’t fully guess anything.”

The doctor leaned back. “For the record, the sticking balls might end up needing to be removed by staff. So there’s a possible chance you may have made extra work for the workers in 999’s room.” Dr. ████ stated.

Logan’s excitement completely drained from his body.

Oh shit...he didn’t think of that…

“However:” Dr. ████ continued. “The staff LOVE 999. So, the ball pit will give them an excuse to visit the creature!” Dr. ████ declared.

Logan’s excitement filled right back up again. He was turning into a metaphorical emotional phone with a broken battery, with all his draining and rising of emotions. “That’s good! That means 999 isn’t alone in the slightest.” Logan reacted.

“He’s really not. He’s got more friends than I’ll ever have!” Dr. ████ added.

Not long after that gift, Logan had to leave. His jet trip had been later in the day than usual, so Logan didn’t have to wake up quite as early in the morning. So that sacrificed some of the time he had with the SCP’s on the first day. Logan pulled out a flashlight to ready himself for lights out, and put his map away.

But before he did any sort of leaving:

Logan kissed 999 good night on the forehead.

#scp foundation & sanders sides #scp 999 is loving #scp fandom #ticklefic #ler!131-a&b #ler!999 #lee!logan #scp-529 #scp-530 #scp 131 is back #tooth rotting fluff

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cavalierious-whim · 3 years ago

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Sylvain's wholly unprepared for Felix to ask him to slather sunscreen upon his pasty (well-defined) back.

Happy Sylvix Summer. Take my dumb beach fluff rife with Teen-aged Tropey Rom-Com bullshit. Read here on AO3 for better quality, and follow me here on Twitter!

Despite his long-harbored crush, Sylvain never thought much of a half-naked Felix until one fateful beach trip.

They’re past their high-school years and well into college. Young enough to not be tied down by relationships. That’d be boring to Sylvain, who has a new flavor every week and happily so.

Mostly because it’s easier to be casual than commit to something that’d mean more.

Felix is just an old friend, he tells himself. A second glance, really. Okay, well, maybe not second-- that’s a cruel thing to say. Sylvain would give his left arm for the guy, literally, but he’s never really considered the why behind the thought until then.

And sure, he’s always liked him, even if Sylvain’s never thought much about it. Felix is kinda cute in a deranged cat sort of way.

But now, it makes a lot of sense. Stares him right in the face, a visage of gleaming pasty white skin and deceptively toned muscles. Sylvain’s just fucking blind and stupid, and now it can’t be unseen.

Felix is no longer a scrawny and gangly thing; now he sports lithe and supple muscle. Defined shoulders and a slim waist that tapers into what’s probably the finest ass Sylvain’s ever seen. Pert and shapely, perfect in every way.

Sylvain stares long enough for his ice cream cone to melt all over his hand.

“I’d tell you to take a picture,” says Ingrid, her laugh pealing through the air from behind her hand. “But that’d only piss him off.”

“Ingrid,” says Sylvain panicked. He shakes the melted, sticky mess from his hand as he continues to gawk. At least they’re in the shade under his umbrella, so it’s only a minor mess. “When on earth did that happen?”

Ingrid raises an eyebrow. “When did what happen?”

Sylvain groans. Of course, she’d make him say it. Ingrid’s the worst (or the best) when it comes to forcing others to make fools of themselves. She’s already adopted a devilish smirk, waiting for Sylvain to dig himself a hole deep in the beach sand.

A grave might be more fitting, considering what Felix would do to him if he ever caught Sylvain staring.

“I mean, what’d you expect?” asks Ingrid, sparing Sylvain from further embarrassment. For the moment. Sylvain knows better than to think that she’s done with him. Ingrid’s only biding her time. “When people play sports, they get ripped.” She points to Sylvain. “Look at you. Look at me.”

“I play baseball,” says Sylvain in a low hiss. “I can throw a pitch as fast as a car on the highway and sprint the length of an entire field. Fencing is barely a sport when compared.”

Ingrid just looks at him, her face flat and unimpressed as she sips at her drink and twirls the tiny decorative beach umbrella within it. “I dare you to tell him that.”

Sylvain flounders the tiniest bit. Absolutely not. He likes living far too much. Ever since Felix picked up a foil and learned how to bout, he’d been considerably more dangerous than the crybaby know-it-all they’d all grown up with.

“But, like… how?” says Sylvain as he wonders, persistent in his confusion as to when Felix suddenly became handsome. Like, model handsome. Like, Sylvain would take him around and then pound him into the sheets handsome.

Sylvain never thinks about sleeping with men. Except for Felix, but that’s something that he usually pushes to the back corner of his mind because it’s really fucking awkward to think that way about your bestie.

And Ingrid knows, she’s known for a stupidly long time because of one shitty night where he’d drunkenly blubbered his feelings out to her. In rare form, she didn’t laugh at him that night, she’d only combed her fingers through his hair and called him the world’s biggest idiot.

He’s good at that. Being dumb. Probably his best quality.

Sylvain can’t stop looking, his eyes grazing over Felix’s perfect form. My wet dreams are never going to be the same again, he thinks, his mouth going dry.

“Disgusting,” says Ingrid, making a face. She knows what Sylvain’s thinking, what he can’t help but agonize about. But then she waves her hand dismissively. “Also, he does squats from sun-up to sun-down. No wonder his ass looks so good.”

“Wait, are you looking?” asks Sylvain a little too quickly. Accusatory. He watches her through a shrewd gaze.

“Oh, Goddess, no. I’d rather choke.” She makes another face, this one cross-eyed as she cuts across her neck with a finger dramatically. “I’ve just been watching your sorry ass moon over him--”

“I’m not mooning--”

“Who’s mooning over what?”

Both Ingrid and Sylvain freeze at Felix’s voice. Then, Sylvain laughs, high-pitched and incredibly awkward.

“Nothing--”

“Sylvain and how he’s--”

Sylvain kicks her and Ingrid curses. Felix watches on, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sylvain’s rarely rude to Ingrid (okay, so that’s a lie; he’s rude to her constantly, but she’s Ingrid, and she deserves it every time), but he shoots her the meanest look that he can muster.

Which, admittedly, isn’t very threatening.

“Is there a reason you look like a fucking five-year-old trying to threaten a classmate who stole your juice box?”

Sylvain nearly congratulates Felix on his brilliant use of imagery. Instead, he starts with, “Felix--”

“Oh, don’t mind him,” cuts in Ingrid. “He’s just annoyed that I called him out on his bullshit.”

With that, Felix perks up because if there’s something that he loves more than anything else, it’s watching Sylvain getting dunked on. Which is more often than Sylvain likes to admit.

“So,” says Felix, “The usual.”

“Felix, why are you even here?” Sylvain doesn’t mean for it to be so biting, but it comes out sounding quite like Felix himself, an absolute feat.

“We’re at the beach, and together at that if I must remind you,” says Felix, cocking his head to the side. “The sun’s high and blazing, and I’m pasty as hell. Help me with this.”

A demand, not a request. So incredibly like Felix. Sylvain barely catches the bottle that is thrown at him. “Sunscreen,” he reads aloud rather dumbly.

“Yes, you dimwit,” says Felix. “Not everyone tans like you. Some of us come out looking like lobsters, and I don’t mean in a tasty kind of way.”

Sylvain disagrees. Felix looks the tastiest he’s ever seen, and Sylvain’s known him for nearly two decades.

“So what, like rub this all over you?”

Felix rolls his eyes, replying slowly like he’s speaking to a child. “Yes. My arms are short and you’re conveniently there. Even if I’m flexible--” Sylvain super doesn’t need to think about that, “--there are parts of my back that I can’t reach.”

Sylvain would rather burn in Ailell than do this because this is now his absolute worst fucking nightmare. A unique hell, tailored just for him. A test of the Goddess.

Or a memory he’ll wank to for months to come.

Definitely the latter, knowing Sylvain.

Ingrid, bless her shrew-like and ill-tempered soul, shoots Sylvain an amused glance. Soaks the entire thing up, her mouth tipped to the side as she delights in Sylvain’s discomfort. This kind of thing fuels her; juicy gossip feeds her for days and then some.

Especially when it comes to Sylvain.

“Ingrid, fuck off,” says Sylvain. Felix, who didn’t see her look, reaches out to swat Sylvain in return. “Ow!”

“You fuck off,” says Felix. “Stop being rude.”

“She’s the one--”

“Alright, I’m leaving,” says Ingrid abruptly, “Before this lover’s spat gets any worse--”

“This isn’t a spat--” starts Sylvain.

“Lover’s?” exclaimed Felix, pink in the face.

That catches Sylvain’s attention as he turns to him. What an odd reaction-- the embarrassment as he refuses to look either of them in the face. Sylvain’s mouth falls open in surprise and Ingrid’s clamps right up. Then, she smiles, the sly little grin that she gets when she’s up to no good. Never bodes well. Sylvain’s about to say something when she speaks.

“I’ll come and check on your boys later, yeah?” Oh, Ingrid’s up to no good, about to throw Sylvain to the sharks. Wholly intent of leaving him behind with Felix and his newfound discovery that his crush is probably more than a crush.

“Ingrid--” starts Sylvain, but before he can properly beg her, Ingrid’s gone, leaving behind nothing but a trail of footprints in the sand.

Felix plops onto the towel in front of Sylvain, his back facing him. Sylvain looks at the expanse of it, far broader than he remembers. He swallows thickly as his hand hovers awkwardly over Felix’s skin.

“Insufferable, that woman. What my brother sees in her I’ll never know.”

“Even people with terrible personalities have matches,” says Sylvain in humor. A decent attempt at distraction that usually works with others.

Felix grunts. “Yes, well, you’d know that best of all, wouldn’t you?”

Ouch, thinks Sylvain. Nasty little stinger right out of left-field but incredibly on-brand for Felix. His favorite thing to do is remind Sylvain about his habitually shitty dating habits.

“That’s a little cruel, don’t you think?” Sylvain uncaps the bottle of sunscreen and squirts a generous amount onto his palms.

“What, can’t handle the criticism?” Felix snorts. “Sylvain, you’ve slept with the entire volleyball team, minus Ingrid.”

“Have you seen them, though? Legs up to here, literally. Except for Ingrid of course, because that’d be so gross--”

“Ridiculous,” says Felix, snorting again. “Utterly predictable. And you wonder why you’re always dead last.”

Sylvain frowns at the strange wording. “I’m top of our class.”

Felix doesn’t immediately answer. “That isn’t what I mean,” he finally says, tilting his head back slightly to look at Sylvain. Then his expression hardens, turning aggressive again. “Are you going to lather me up or should I go ask Ingrid instead?”

“No,” says Sylvain, “Just… yeah, okay. I’ve got this.”

“Sylvain, it’s just sunscreen.” There’s a tiny frown on Felix’s face.

Sylvain’s a confident man, able to woo anyone into his bed. Rubbing sunscreen into Felix’s skin should be easy. It isn’t. Sylvain hesitates and hesitates, fingers hovering over the smooth line of Felix’s bare shoulders.

Nothing explains Sylvain’s sudden dry mouth or the inkling that this is a terrible idea.

“Sylvain,” says Felix, clearly waiting.

Felix’s skin is warm to the touch and soft under Sylvain’s calloused fingers. He starts at his shoulders, massaging the liquid in, squeezing at Felix’s tight muscles.

“Tense?” asks Sylvain, teasing him.

“Tired,” says Felix, sounding-- well, just that. Exhausted, even.

Sylvain’s hands pause as he leans forward slightly. “You train too much.”

“You don’t train enough. You could be on the national team if you gave a shit.”

Sylvain laughs and leans even closer, his mouth near Felix’s ear. “Yeah, well, that’s the difference between us. I don’t want to be on the national team.”

Felix harrumphs and crosses his arms over his chest. “That just makes you dumb, then.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Sylvain smooths his hands across the top of Felix’s shoulders, then sweeps them down and under his blades, thumbs digging into the meat of Felix’s back.

Felix lets out a low moan, a sinful-sounding thing that makes Sylvain bite at his lips and look to the sky. He’s never really prayed before, doesn’t believe in the Goddess, but he asks Seiros for strength.

“Shit, Sylvain,” says Felix with a sigh. “That’s--”

“Seriously, Felix, you’re all locked up.”

Felix whines when Sylvain raises his hand to press into the muscles at the base of his neck, his fingernails just barely scratching across Felix’s skin. “Sorry,” murmurs Felix, pink in the cheeks again, hands shifting awkwardly in his lap.

“You need to cool down properly after your sessions,” says Sylvain. “You’re working yourself too hard. Nothing but knots and bone back here.”

“Sunscreen,” says Felix suddenly.

“What?”

“The sunscreen. Your hands are dry.”

Right. The sunscreen. Sylvain isn’t supposed to be giving Felix a massage, he’s supposed to be oiling him up and readying him for the sun. He slicks his hands up again, murmurs an apology, and finds the lower part of Felix’s back this time.

“Sorry. Can’t have you burning to a crisp out there.”

Felix sighs at the touch, leaning into it slightly and Sylvain nearly dies on the spot. So, maybe he’s just now noticed how handsome Felix is, but it’s not exactly the first time Sylvain’s thought about him like this. Usually, when he does, he tucks it away deep-- not because it’s embarrassing, or Sylvain has reservations about men, but because Felix would slaughter him if he knew.

Sylvain lets out a long breath as he rubs the sunscreen into Felix’s skin, making sure not to miss any spots.

“What’s Ingrid doing?” asks Felix, nodding to where she stands fifty paces away in the sun.

Sylvain looks up, squinting at her. Ingrid flashes him a grin before pressing her thumb and forefinger together on one hand, and then taking her pointer finger with the other and--

“Is she--”

Ingrid makes the crudest gesture known to man, and then, wiggling her eyebrows, points directly to Felix, then Sylvain right after.

Sylvain’s going to kill her. Absolutely murder her in her sleep. He’s got a spare key to her place and he knows where she keeps the sharp knives. Glenn might forgive Sylvain for it if they properly explain. Even though Glenn’s nearly thirty, he still thinks it’s his job to protect Felix.

Especially from Ingrid’s never-ending teasing.

“She’s dead,” says Sylvain. “Next time I’m within a few feet of her.”

“Not if I kill her first,” says Felix.

Sylvain leans over Felix, shooting Ingrid the finger with both hands. She, naturally, shoots him one right back. “So fucking rude,” says Sylvain, leaning back again and slathering his hands with sunscreen once more. “And the things that she implies. Don’t listen to her.”

Strangely, Felix is quiet. Twiddles his thumbs in his lap. Sylvain watches him for a moment before resuming his requested task, catching the spots of his back that he’s missed.

“Would it be so bad?” asks Felix.

Sylvain’s hands pause. “What?”

“The idea of being with me. Is it such a terrible idea?”

Sylvain laughs because that’s what he does when faced with awkward questions. “Felix, we’re too old for gay jokes and Ingrid knows that. She’s just picking on us because it’s how she asserts dominance.”

Felix doesn’t even scoff which is a red flag, so Sylvain grasps him by the shoulders and looks at him from the side. “Hey, wait, are you worried about dating? I thought it wasn’t something you’re interested in?”

They’ve known each other since they were practically in diapers, so of course, they’ve talked about this: girls and dating. Well, more so Sylvain who always talked at Felix. Felix is relatively tight-lipped about it, even now, into their college years. Always says that he’s just not interested.

Never bothered Sylvain one bit.

“I mean, I know some cute girls--”

“Sylvain, I don’t want to date women.”

Oh. Oh. Sylvain’s mouth shuts tight as he absorbs this information. This puts a lot of things into perspective; Felix’s disinterest in women and how he’d roll his eyes whenever Sylvain would talk about them. His lack of celebrity crushes and such. Felix has just never said it so bluntly.

“Felix, it’s totally cool if you’re gay. I know some cute guys--”

Felix lets out a frustrated groan, rubbing at his face. “Sylvain, I’m not-- that’s not-- That’s not it.”

“Felix, you have to throw me a bone here, what on earth are you talking about--”

“I like you, you absolute imbecile,” says Felix very suddenly. And loudly. Entirely red-faced with embarrassment as he digs a hand into the sand beside him. “And Ingrid’s known for years because Glenn fucking told her, and that’s why she’s been so incredibly insufferable this entire time--”

Sylvain bursts into laughter, which in retrospect, probably wasn’t the best reaction. “Wait, no, no, that’s not why I’m laughing,” he says when Felix starts to pull away. Felix pauses, looking at him with barely contained aggravation.

“This isn’t funny, Sylvain,” he says quietly.

“Ingrid’s making fun of both of us, so yeah, it kind of is.”

Felix blinks very slowly, his face contorting into supreme confusion.

Sylvain sighs, rubbing at his chin awkwardly. “So look, here’s the thing. The shitty dating’s always been to fill a void because I’ve always been afraid to like, date someone properly. No commitment is so much easier than actual commitment and--”

“Sylvain, what on earth are you blabbering about?” cuts in Felix impatiently.

“I like you too?” Sylvain doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding like a question, so he clears his throat and tries again. “What I mean to say is, I’ve always liked you, I guess, but I’ve never really noticed you and--”

When Felix laughs, it’s always a bitter-sounding thing which is why Sylvain never wants to hear it. Means he’s about to lose his shit. This time though, he’s chuckling softly, rubbing at his face tiredly. “Let me guess,” he says quietly, “Ingrid knows.”

Sylvain swallows thickly, sitting there awkwardly with sunscreen-covered hands. “She, uh, might.”

“So, I didn’t have to resort to this, then.”

Sylvain shoots him a confused look. “Resort to what?”

Felix sighs, pink-cheeked with embarrassment again. “Parading around without a shirt on. The whole sunscreen thing. Ingrid’s blasted idea, of course, and now I see why. Glenn agreed, saying you’re the type to be visually stimulated but because I didn’t think that you liked me--”

“Wait, wait, back up,” says Sylvain, trying to process everything that Felix is trying to say. “What do you mean Ingrid’s idea?”

Felix finally looks at Sylvain’s face, annoyed with the entire situation. “She was tired of me not saying anything and told me to do something about it. I said it wouldn’t matter, that you didn’t like me but--” He pauses and waves vaguely between them.

“She’s known that I’ve liked you for years,” finishes Sylvain quietly. “Oh, Goddess, I’m going to kill her.”

“Please don’t,” says Felix. “Because then Glenn would kill you and that would mean I’ve made an utter fool of myself for nothing.”

Sylvain looks at the sunscreen again. “Felix, I hope you realize, rubbing you down in this nearly ended me. Like, I won’t be able to move from this towel for at least ten minutes.”

At that, Felix smirks slightly, his mouth tipped up at one corner. “Well, I’m sure there are spots that you’ve missed.”

Sylvain groans at the idea.

“I’m joking,” says Felix quietly, reaching out to touch Sylvain’s shoulder, thumbing over it with uncertainty. “So what--”

“I mean, the answer’s yes, obviously.” Felix looks at him, his face carefully schooled into something bland. Obviously trying not to get his hopes up, so Sylvain continues. “I mean, I didn’t collapse onto Ingrid’s bathroom floor one night, wasted to only say no--”

“You what?”

“Okay, so forget about that--”

“So you were truly serious about liking me?” asks Felix, his voice cracking slightly.

Sylvain’s expression softens. “I mean, it’s never been so clear until today but--”

“Why today, of all days?”

Sylvain’s done a fantastic job of looking at only Felix’s face so far so he finally looks down, eyes sweeping over his chest. Sylvain swallows thickly. “I mean, look at you, you’re--”

“Save it for the women who warm your bed,” says Felix acerbically. He moves to get up properly and Sylvain reaches out to grab his wrist.

“Felix, wait, don’t do that.” Felix does. Waits for him to say his piece. “I’ve always liked you, but it never really clicked that you’re-- uh-- look, there’s no delicate way to say it, so I just will. You’re gorgeous. Handsome. I can’t stop looking at you because you make me feel things, and that’s something that’s just... Ingrid told me to take a fucking picture, Felix.”

Felix snorts at that, hiding a smile behind his hand. Then he plops back down to the sand.

“You realize that I expect to be more than a bed warmer,” says Felix finally, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’d never ask that of you,” says Sylvain, seriously. “Unless you wanted to, because trust me, I’m certainly not opposed--”

Felix reaches forward with lightning-fast speed, pulls open Sylvain’s swim trunks, and dumps a handful of sand directly into them. Sylvain looks down dumbly. Dreads the inevitable itchiness that comes with getting sand in the bits where you don’t want it.

“Okay, yeah, I deserved that.”

Felix hesitates and then says, “Insufferable.”

“Yeah,” says Sylvain in agreement.

“It’s part of your charm.”

Sylvain grins at him. “Oh, my charm? Does that mean that I won you over with my bewitching demeanor?”

Felix’s expression sours the slightest bit. “Don’t push it.”

It falls quiet between them, as they sit on the towel underneath Sylvain’s umbrella, but it’s a comfortable silence. Sylvain rubs the leftover sunscreen into his own shoulders as Felix tries not to stare in return.

“So,” says Sylvain finally. “Dinner on the pier maybe? Without Ingrid and Glenn, I mean.”

“Yes, nothing says fantastic first date like shoveling buttered crawfish into your mouth like a slob.” But Felix’s face is soft and fond when he looks at Sylvain, and Sylvain knows that it’s a date sealed for later that night.

Things are going to be weird, supposes Sylvain, but there are worse things. At least they’ll be figuring it out together.

“Who gets first dibs on dunking ice-cold seawater all over Ingrid?” asks Sylvain.

“I think that I can get Glenn to distract her long enough for you to fill the pail. Or, we can tag team her-- grab her and throw her in the ocean itself.”

That’s a better idea and Sylvain says as such, much to Felix’s entertainment. “Maybe we shouldn’t,” continues Sylvain. “We do owe her some credit.”

Felix snorts. “Are you going to give her the satisfaction of it?”

They both look at each other, then Sylvain says, “Absolutely not.” He pauses, reaching out to Felix, wanting to grab his hand and hold it. But he hesitates.

Felix sees and watches silently. “We’re dumb,” he finally says. “It’s taken us so long. We’re nearly done with college.”

“Yeah, well, late-bloomers and all that.”

“Sylvain, you’re the opposite of a late-bloomer.”

“Not where it counts.”

Felix sighs softly and reaches out, taking Sylvain’s hand, linking their fingers together. He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t have to. He and Sylvain have always been like that; silent in most of their communication because they just read each other so well.

Except for when it comes to their wants, apparently.

Still, better late than never supposes Sylvain when he squeezes Felix’s hand back.

#sylvain/felix #felix/sylvain #felix x sylvain #fe3h fanfiction #sylvix #fe3h

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ri-ahhh · 4 years ago

Text

desperate

Grayson makes his girlfriend all kinds of desperate by posting those photoshoot pictures for everyone to see

warnings: long af, about 4.6K, but mostly sexy times

***

MJ Macias is in a hurry as she huffs and struggles across the threshold of the front door and into the Dolan boys’ house. She practically lives there, so she had taken it upon herself to do the weekly food shop for all three of them. Her arms are laden with reusable shopping bags that are filled to the brim with groceries from Trader Joe’s, so she bumps the door closed with her hip behind her before waddling as fast as she can into the kitchen.

“Hey,” she greets Ethan hurriedly, heaving up and plopping down the heavy bags onto the granite countertops.

Ethan stands in the middle of the kitchen, minding his own business, eating a banana and scrolling on his phone. He nods his head in return, his mouth otherwise occupied by a mouthful of fruit.

MJ whips off her sunglasses and tosses them with her keys onto the island catch-all plate, simultaneously toeing off her AF1’s. “Can you do me a solid and put those away, please?” she asks. Her body feels hot despite the fact that they keep their AC on typical-boy freezing temperatures. “I gotta, um…take a poop. Yeah.”

Ethan eyes her suspiciously and chomps off another bite of his banana as he does so. Her flushed face, her twitchy hands, her slightly breathless voice, are all telling a different story. Unfortunately, he’s around his brother and his girlfriend often enough to know their horny tells, which are usually his cues to get the hell away from them; those two really didn’t give a fuck who was around when they got desperate enough.

“No you don’t. You saw his douchey Instagram post, didn’t you?”

MJ at least has the decency to blush a little as she rolls her eyes and digs through the black hole of her purse in search of her phone. There was no point in denying it if he was gonna call her out like that. “Fine! Would you rather me tell you I’m off to suck your brother’s dick? Because I am.”

Ethan retches a little. Drama queen. He looks down at the half-eaten banana in his hand, grimaces, and sits it on the countertop he had just been leaning against. “Ugh. So many terrible, terrible images I can’t stop now.”

Phone in hand, MJ is already halfway to the hallway when she stops and turns to give him a deadpan look. “You’ve caught us full-on fucking, E. Just think, you’ve already seen worse.”

She smirks when he groans loudly, his head tipping back exasperatedly. If there’s one thing that provides her with endless entertainment, it’s pushing her boyfriend’s brother’s sometimes oversensitive buttons. “Okay, okay, MJ, leave now please, before you inflict more mental scarring on my poor virgin brain. I’ll just… pretend like I don’t have any idea what’s going on in there.”

MJ scoffs. ‘Virgin brain’ is the biggest lie she’s ever heard pass his lips.

It also jogs a helpful memory in her head from two nights ago.

It started when she had woken up in the middle of the night completely parched, and padded herself sleepily into the kitchen at 3 AM for some water. The muffled yet tell-tale noises breaking the silence blanketing the rest of the house should have been her warning, but in her defense, she had still been half asleep. Cut to zombie-esque MJ suddenly turning wide awake when she rounded the corner to find Ethan on his knees on the kitchen floor, his head buried between his girlfriend Evie’s legs where she sat perched on the counter. A nearly inaudible squeak of surprise was the only thing she had left behind before booking it back to bed, leaving the couple none the wiser in the dim light of the kitchen.

She had still been thirsty, she remembers grumpily, and was left with her own mental images burned in her mind, which she had spent a good portion of the rest of that night trying to put out.

It’s only fair, as payback, that he doesn't find out that she and Gray have been in the exact same position several times before.

Alright, so it’s a little hypocritical for her to continue to dig at him, but she does so anyways without any guilt whatsoever. “Hm. Well, at least we’re behind closed doors. You should probably remember: the kitchen is for cooking, not for eating.”

She gives him a grin and a pointed look at the counter behind him, leaving Ethan looking momentarily confused before understanding dawns on him. “MJ, shut up. Serious— wait!”

“Thanks for putting the food away, E!” she calls over her shoulder as she continues across the living room, laughing heartily at the furious blush on his face.

MJ is still chuckling when her phone buzzes in her hand. Her heart lifts when she sees it’s from Grayson, asking if that was her he could hear Ethan yelling at. She swipes the text notification away and bites her lip as she stares at the new photo that is her background wallpaper. Thousands of other girls are probably looking at that picture of him laying in bed the same way she is now. What they don’t have, she thought smugly, is the real thing waiting for them on the other side of a door.

That’s exactly what she finds when she enters their room: him sprawled out on that very bed, looking superbly comfy in his athletic shorts and soft t-shirt, barefoot, his skin a fresh golden tone from doing laps in the pool earlier today. His eyes dart away from his phone, which he tosses to the other side of the bed when he hears her come in.

“I thought that was you,” he says with a bright smile, reaching his arms out to her. “C’mere. I haven't seen you all day.”

Not exactly true, as they had crossed paths a few times in passing in the morning, but the effect had been there since they were both separately busy. She doesn’t correct him and ignores his grabby hands, too, despite how much her body longs to dive into them.

She shuts the door quietly behind her, her green eyes appreciating the real-life version of the man in those photos. Those photos that she had gotten a tiny preview of a few days ago when Grayson had showed her the email, but were nothing compared to the final product. When she saw his Instagram post right when she got in her car to come home, her mind, heart, and pussy were all instantly fighting with each other to process the coinciding beauty and sexiness of the images blessing her eyes.

Now, she wants to take the time to appreciate every aspect of him. To let her brain wrap around how he can be so beautiful inside and out; to let her heart simply feel how much she loves him; and to let her body be a tool for his enjoyment.

Her lust must be evident on her face as she stares at him, unmoving from her spot by the door, because Grayson’s bright smile turns knowing. He loves the effect it has on her when he shows off what’s really hers to his millions of followers. It’s mostly why he does it. Admittedly, he’s self-aware enough to realize he thrives off the praise and attention from his fans, but he’s also selfish enough to do it simply for the rise it gets out of his beautiful girlfriend; he knows it could only end in his favor.

He also knows MJ like the back of his hand by now, and he hasn’t seen her this turned on without him even touching her since he made that post in Australia about saving the duckling. The marathon session he had been rewarded with after that was unmatched to this day.

Grayson has a feeling now might be the time.

MJ is finally brought back to her senses a little bit when he shifts up the pillows to get more comfy and to allow himself a better view of what he knows is about to go down. She takes off her black baseball cap and tosses it to the corner of the bedroom, eyes never leaving his as she shakes out her wavy waist-length hair. Her delicate fingers tug at the drawstring of her grey sweats — the very ones of his that he’s wearing in the pictures, actually — and steps out of them when they fall to the floor. Finally, her casual black body suit is all that adorns her body, and she pulls the spaghetti straps down her arms so it can slide to the ground as well.

Grayson licks his lips and let’s his hazel eyes absorb the delectable curves of her body as she stalks over to him like a panther on the hunt for her prey. She climbs onto the bed with their eyes still locked, small smiles tugging at both of their lips, until she’s straddling his fully-clothed waist.

“Who gave you permission to be that sexy online?” she asks quietly, combing his hair back with the manicured fingers of one hand and using the other to steady herself on his shoulder as she sits back and wastes no time rocking her hips over his lap. “Making all those girls want you. Jealous they can’t have you.”

Grayson bites his plump lower lip and brushes her long tresses over her shoulders so her tits are fully exposed for him. He takes a few moments to admire his favorite part of her body while his large hands find her hips to help her grind against him. He can feel her wetness already seeping through his shorts, and it makes him dizzy that she’s this turned on by him without him having to do anything at all.

“I thought you liked it when I make other girls jealous,” he retorts, meeting her eyes once again with a grin. MJ gasps when his hands sweep upwards to cup her sensitive breasts, where he rubs his thumbs a couple of times teasingly over her nipples before dropping one down to swipe through her slit. He moans when he brings the digit to his mouth, sucking the coating of her sweet, earthy arousal off his skin. “Mm. In fact, I know you like it.”

He’s so perfectly feeding into this sexy-and-I-know-it douchebag fetish of hers and it’s making her head swim dangerously. MJ moans herself and pushes his hand away from his mouth so she can kiss him deeply, sloppily, her tongue finding his in his mouth and sliding alongside it sensually.

“I fucking love it,” she whispers hotly when they pull back for air, her chest heaving with both desire and the attempts to catch her breath.

She uses the downtime to take hold of the hem of his shirt and tug upwards. Grayson lifts his arms in assistance until the garment is over his head and thrown across the room. MJ’s fingers are instantly drawn to the newest addition of body art inked into him: the black-and-grey photorealistic peach on his ribs.

For all intents and purposes, it’s her name etched into his skin forever. Usually when she sees it, it just makes her heart extra soft for him. Now, it only drives her lust for him through the roof, because if only those millions of people knew what that peach really meant.

MJ dives back in to kiss him again, both of their hands grabbing at every bit of exposed skin they can reach as their lips and teeth and tongues clash roughly, perfectly. They make out like that for a few more minutes until MJ’s finally able to comprehend that he’s fully hard beneath her. She could very easily keep grinding on him until she came, but she decides to focus on him. Really, it’s almost selfish how desperate she is to make him cum first.

Her breaths are loud and heavy as she bites her lip and scoots down his body with a grip in the waistband of his shorts, dragging them down with her. Grayson lifts his ass off the bed and hisses when his dick springs free, hot and hard and throbbing for her. MJ’s mouth waters at the sight, and she sits back on her knees with her eyes glued to him as she throws her hair up in a messy bun. With it sufficiently pulled out of her face, she settles on her belly in-between his legs, getting comfy; she’d be there for a while if she has it her way.

Her legs naturally bend at the knees and cross at the ankles, looking innocent and seductive as she takes him in one petite hand, the other scratching her long nails along the skin of his abdomen, hip, and upper thigh. She makes sure his eyes are on hers when she turns her head and licks up the whole underside of him like an ice cream cone. Grayson sighs and interlaces his fingers behind his head to watch her work, just like the spoiled prince she’s treating him as.

“You’re so hot,” she murmurs after giving the head a lascivious kiss. Grayson moans softly and throws his head back, swallowing hard when she follows it with a gentle suckle of the whole tip — just teasing little snippets of what’s to come. “Makes me crazy how sexy you are, Bear.”

With that, she dips her head lower and takes more of him in her warm, wet mouth a few times, then pulls back and drizzles some of the saliva pooling in her cheeks onto his dick. She repeats this again. And again. And again, her eyes shining mischievously as she watches him get more and more worked up the longer she goes without giving him exactly what she knows he wants.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hazel eyes glazed over as she spreads the considerable amount of slickness from her mouth all over his shaft. She’s got him as desperate as she set out to, which is only confirmed when he finally begs, “Suck it, baby, please.”

MJ grins against his skin and, with his dick sufficiently wet, gives in instantly. She dips her head and takes the first couple of inches into her mouth, then a few more on the next pass, until finally she has enough of him in her so that his tip is tickling the back of her throat. She hollows her cheeks and twists her hand on the way back up, continuing until she’s got a rhythm and pressure that has him moaning unashamedly amidst the filthy sounds created by her mouth on him.

“So fucking good,” he groans, gripping the base of her messy bun and holding her down so her spit and drool pools at the base of him, dripping down his balls. Tears start to stream from her eyes as MJ allows him to keep her there until she has to tap his hard stomach, trying to lift off of him to gasp for air.

Grayson pulls up on her hair at once to let her, swiping at the tears on her freckled cheekbones for her as well. MJ giggles breathlessly and strokes one hand over him while the other cradles his sac. “Because you have the best dick, Gray. So big and thick and nice. I love your dick,” she moans and ducks down to suck one of his balls into her mouth, giving it a warm bath before the other gets the same treatment. “Mmm. Want it back in my mouth right now.”

“Yeah,” he growls, his eyes shutting momentarily when her lips wrap back around him. He doesn’t want to miss a second of her pretty face so close to his cock, though, so he opens them once again and demands, “Wanna fuck your mouth.”

God, yes. “Do it, baby, I’m ready,” she instructs with a moan. Her pussy throbs greedily when she takes him back all the way down, relaxing her throat and concentrating on breathing through her nose when he bends his knees and starts thrusting gently.

His hand returns to her hair for leverage and holds her head steady as he finds a tempo with his hips that she can handle. MJ fights her gag reflex and does her best to look up so she can watch his beautiful face with teary green eyes for as long as she can. Giving head has always been something she’s relatively enjoyed, but Grayson has taken her appreciation for it to a whole new level. Never before had she craved the feeling of her throat being stretched, the slight ache of her jaw, the way her eyes watered, like she does with him.

Grayson’s sounds are getting more frequent and needy, music to MJ’s ears solely for the fact that they feed her ego and drive her own arousal. She’s always loved that he wasn't afraid to be as loud as he usually is outside of the bedroom, inside it as well; whether he was working out or talking or getting his dick sucked, he had zero regard for his volume in respect of his twin just down the hall.

“Fuuuckk,” he moans, almost painfully so, and tugs roughly on her hair once again to pull her off of him as he sits up. He’s panting, a cute flush tinting his cheeks and neck and chest. She catches the sexy glint of one of his tooth jewels as he grits his teeth with a little snarl in attempts to hold himself together. “C’mere.”

MJ whines and follows his physical order, but not his verbal one. His cock is an absolute mess with her spit, a beautiful sight to see, and she rubs it all into his tight balls and his shaft with two hands. “Put it back in, Grayson, I want it in my throat,” she pleads, opening her mouth wide for him.

A deep, guttural noise passes his lips, his eyes blown out with desperation and desire. His visceral reaction to her defiance sends a gush of moisture to her already dripping pussy as he drags her up to him by her hair.

They’re nose to nose, breathing heavily, and MJ expects him to pull her by the back of the neck to kiss him, but he just reaches a big hand up to wipe the moisture from both her eyes and her mouth off of her flushed face.

“Ride me,” he growls, his fingers moving from the soft skin of her cheeks to the more delicate area of her throat. He squeezes gently, and she’s so turned on, that the simple hitch in her breath that results from it makes her eyes roll back and her clit pulse. “Ride me as good as you suck my dick, MJ.”

MJ whimpers and lunges forward to crash her lips against his, moving from the middle of his legs to straddle him with a knee on either side of his hips. Without breaking the heated seal of their mouths, she lifts up onto her shins and reaches behind her to find his cock and line him up with her center. If he wants a good ride, she’ll sure as hell give him one.

Grayson’s moan is synchronized with her own as she sinks down on him, so wet and ready for him it’s just one easy movement until she’s balls deep on him.

“God, this pussy,” he growls, grabbing a handful of her thick ass and following it with a sharp spank to her skin, causing her to yelp into the minimal space between them. He bites his lip and looks up at her darkly as she wraps her arms loosely around his neck, her nails digging into the sinews of his broad back. “Go, Peach. Fuck me.”

Those were usually her choice words, so something about hearing them in his deep, raspy voice said to her, sends her head reeling and her hips rocking of their own accord. She is fucking him; they both know everything she’s doing right now is for him. If she happens to cum in the meantime, it will simply be an added bonus this afternoon.

If she were taking herself into account, MJ would start by grinding on him, building that pressure in her core by stimulating her clit. But she wants to do everything she knows he likes, all for him. She looks at his face, his body, and sees those insane photos on Instagram. How many girls would do anything to be in her place?

A lot. Too many, really. The renewed thought both drives her crazy and makes her heady with a weird sense of momentary superiority.

MJ moans and starts rising up and down on him, bouncing on his lap so her tits are jiggling right in his face. Grayson grunts and watches intently until he takes them both in his hands, squeezing roughly. He releases one and wraps that arm around her waist, bringing her forward so he can suck her nipple of the breast he’s still holding into his warm mouth.

“Lay down,” she says breathlessly after a couple of minutes of letting him indulge, pushing gently on his chest. Grayson follows suit. He swallows hard when she drags her nails down the hard ridges of his abs before bracing herself there with her palms and making sweeping circles with her hips. As much as he loves a face-full of her tits, nothing beats the full view of her body when he's flat on his back like this. Her dark hair curtains the soft, blissful features of her face; her breasts shake enticingly; the respective dips of her waist and swells of her hips are more pronounced by the way she’s sitting astride him; her own lean muscles work hard as she moves gracefully, sensually, to give him as much pleasure as she can.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs lowly, overwhelmed by the sight of her on top of him, working just for him. Without him even realizing, his thumb instinctively finds her clit, his mind and his body hardwired to make sure she’s satisfied as well no matter what.

A new rush of heat floods her body at his touch, and the tip of his cock is hitting just right on that spot behind her belly. Her head tips back with a high-pitch gasp and she fights for a second between instinct to reach her own peak and the competitive, determined urge to get him to cum first.

It takes all her willpower to take the latter route and gather both of his hands in hers, interlacing their fingers and pinning them above his head. His biceps bulge obscenely, his shoulders and triceps equally pronounced, and MJ moans wantonly at the sight as she changes the motion of her hips. She uses the new leverage and goes back to moving up and down on him, a slight smirk gracing her lips when she watches his attention zero in on her tits swaying over him from the way she’s leaning above him.

Unfortunately (or, who is she kidding, fortunately) for her, Grayson also realizes the advantages of this new position. His knees raise behind her so his feet are flat on the mattress, and he grins when he starts thrusting full-force up into her. He would usually wrap his arms around her waist to hold her steady, but those abs are coming in clutch as he achieves the same effect with his hands captured above him.

He knows this is one of her favorite positions, when he jackhammers her like this, and sure enough her moans and whimpers shift in pitch and frequency as her body goes stiff. She can only take him like this, and any thoughts of other girls and jealousy and pride or any other emotion like them fly out of her mind as her body’s desires take over her brain’s thinking power.

“Fuckfuckfuck, Grayson!” she squeals, her eyes squeezing shut and breaking their mutual gaze as she cums and cums hard.

“Yes, baby, cum for Bear,” he grunts, snatching one of his hands from hers so he can grab her face by the cheeks and pull her down for a sloppy, desperate kiss.

It takes her almost a minute to come down enough for her to be coherent, and Grayson smiles smugly as he sits them up and trails his mouth to the spot behind her ear that never fails to make her shiver. “You love my dick, Peach? Hm? Who’s dick just made you cum that hard?”

MJ groans and grasps a handful of his dark hair when he bites into the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Yours,” she whispers. Her body is exhausted, but she starts moving over him again, tugging on his long, sweaty hair to pull him away from her skin so she can look him in the eye. If there’s anything that gets Grayson Dolan off, it’s eye contact. Eye contact, and dirty praises of his prowess. “Didn’t even need to touch my clit, it’s so good.”

She clenches purposefully around him as she speeds up, and Grayson’s eyes roll back for a second. It’s MJ’s turn for her pride to swell, as the simple action puts him right at the edge. “Fuck yeah… ungh, MJ — gonna cum…”

She’s off him in an instant, back on her tummy as she strokes him off into her open mouth, her eyes big and green and sparkling as he whines with every spurt of his hot seed that gets released. The first couple of shots are powerful enough to miss her mouth entirely and land half on her face, which catches her by surprise, but she giggles as the rest find their place on her tongue.

“Holy shit,” he groans after a few moments, his chest heaving as he stares down at her with his white cum pooled on the surface of her tongue. It takes him an extra second to process the streaks on her face, and he smiles with a shake of his head. She grins back and swallows, swiping her finger across the bridge of her nose to collect the extra and sucks it into her mouth.

“Best nut I’ve ever tasted,” she says truthfully. Take his douchey captions as you will, but regular exercise and a vegan diet make the best cum. It’s science.

“Unreal,” he murmurs, plucking a Kleenex from the nightstand to clean the rest of her face, then reaches down to hook his hands under her arms and drag her up to lay next to him.

MJ smiles and nuzzles into his neck as she lets him pull her close to his chest. She reaches blindly behind her for the blanket to throw over their sweat-cooled bodies. “That’s my line. That’s what started this whole tryst in the first place. Because of how unreal you look in those photos.”

Grayson hums, and he kisses her temple. “You’re prettier. More beautiful. Absolutely stunning.”

MJ scoffs and blushes. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be used to him complimenting her like that, with such conviction. “I don’t think so, but okay.”

He shakes his head, his eyes closing as he starts to drift off. “You have boobs. You win by default. Nothing’s better than your boobs. Except your pretty face.”

She giggles and snuggles closer with a yawn. There’s a minute of comfortable silence, until she breaks it with her sex-rasped voice. “Oh, by the way, I caught your brother going down on Evie in the kitchen the other night. In case we need leverage in the future.”

Grayson grins, his eyes still shut as he nuzzles the top of her head. “Nice work, baby. But can we please take a nap? You wore me out.”

“Yeah, I did,” she says smugly to herself. She should probably get up to pee, but in her mind right now it’s worth the risk if she doesn't have to move. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Peach. Now go the fuck to sleep.”

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan oc #grayson mj

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slashiest-slasher · 4 years ago

Note

may I ask for leatherfaces (thomas / bubba) with a s/o who has a size difference kink? like they LOOOVE how much taller/bigger the boys are compared to them (*´ω｀*) nsfw if you can,,,

honey… you have no idea how big (*snort*) of a size kink I have, and Thomas and Bubba… whoo boy! and yes, of course, it will be nsfw because i am a big hoe

(this was another was that was sitting almost finished in a notepad for months, whoops!)

Oh your darling Thomas… One of the reasons you fell for him so hard in the first place was of his gorgeous body. He towers over you, broad shoulders, and thick muscles that are hard earned. You wished you could tell him how you feel just so you could feel up those arms.

All you could do as of now is to pat him while squeezing by, as an assurance to let him know you were passing, or holding on to him for balance since you were oh so clumsy. In reality, you were agile, but you spin a web of little white lies so the Hewitt’s never quite know your full potential.

Since you were head over heels for Tommy, you didn’t want to leave, but you needed a back door, just in case.

But God damn it! Thomas didn’t know he was doing it, but he has been teasing you all day! Luda Mae had proclaimed that it was high time that the barn was cleared of trash and clutter after you tripped and fell into Thomas last week while the two of you went to retrieve replacement parts for the fridge.

All staged so you could get those beefy arms wrapped around you and rest against his chest, but you had ended up with a nasty slash on your side, that thankfully didn’t get infected but bled worse than it looked.

You had never quite seen Thomas so worked up than when he carried you back to the house.

But today… An awful heatwave had rolled in, leaving you in a thin, light colored long sleeve shirt and baseball cap. Working from dawn until the beginning twinkling of dusk, hauling junk out of the barn and sorting it into a keep, burn, and trash pile, had left the both of you drenched in sweat. Only Thomas decided wearing a shirt wasn’t worth it, and at around 11am had whipped the soaked fabric off.

At least you could blame your fumblings on being clumsy, and not being distracted by the sweat rolling down Thomas’ massive and toned back. He’s covered in a nice layer of fat, which softens him, but makes him about 100% more attractive than any jacked steroid freak.

There was no way he’s doing this on purpose, you think to yourself, sitting in the shade and sorting machine parts into boxes. Thomas has worse self esteem than any middle school girl. He got flustered whenever Luda Mae, his own mother, called him handsome. You can’t help but squeeze your thighs together when his muscles flex as he hauls a full size mattress, completely caked in dried blood, over to the trash pile. He stumbles back after throwing it down, kicking up dirt underneath his boots.

You take your hat off, and wipe the sweat off from your forehead before hauling yourself up. “I’m gonna go get us some lemonade Thomas, why don’t you sit down for a spell?” you tell him, jerking your head to the musty loveseat still in the partially cleared out barn.

No one’s in the house to question you when you run into the bathroom before heading through to the kitchen and shovel ice in two glasses, and pour in chilled, homemade lemonade Luda Mae made earlier in the day.

When you get back, jogging carefully with the cups in your hands, Thomas is sprawled across the couch, making it seem tiny under his massive form. Like it was made for kids.

You pass his a glass and resist the urge to sit too close to him. It doesn’t take long for him to knock back the glass, throat bobbing with each gulp. He crunches a few pieces of ice, while you sip at yours at a liberal pace. He presses the glass to his forehead and chest in a last ditch attempt to cool down, and the added condensation does nothing to help you.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you mutter, setting your drink on the ground.

Thomas picks up on it, and tilts his head to the side. He expects a lot of things, but you crawling into his lap and ravenously kissing him is not amongst them.

You grind down on him, and feel up his firm pecs. “You’ve been getting my riled up all damn day Tommy, it’s not fair,” you whine. “Are you not aware of how damn sexy you are?”

He doesn’t quite know what to do. He really, really wasn’t thinking of this as a possibility. Sure, he thought you have a nice ass and a pretty face, and harbored his own little crush on you. But you liking him back? Thinking he was purposefully teasing you?? He thinks it’s a heat induced delusion.

“Damn, all of you is big,” you moan, rubbing your crotch against his. “Tommy, if you don’t want to, I ain’t gonna think less of you, but you’ve had me horny all day and I need you to fuck me, right here, right now.”

That’s good enough to pull him out of his stupor. Thomas grabs you by your hips, and grinds you down against him as he thrusts up to meet you.

You let him lay you down on the couch, and fucking Christ when he hunches over, he completely dwarfs you. You can’t help but run your hands all over his back and arms, feeling up his muscles. Meanwhile, he tugs off your jeans, and pauses when he gets them off.

Oh yeah, you had forgotten to put on underwear today, hadn’t you?

His breathing gets heavier and shakier, and when he slips a finger in you, he finds no resistance and you already plenty lubed up.

Looks like your impromptu trip to the bathroom to prep yourself was worth it.

Thomas frantically gets his button and fly undone, and lets his rock hard cock flop out onto your abdomen. Your eyes go wide when you feel the heafty weight of it, and dart down to get the confirmation of that massive thing resting on your stomach.

Of fuck there is no way that thing is going to fit in you.

But that only serves to rile the both of you up further.

"Tommy, Tommy, please," you whine, wrapping your hand around that massive cock of his. "I need you in me, oh Christ, please baby."

If his chest weren't heaving before, it would be now as he stared down at your writhing body. So desperate. For him. Wanting him so badly that you're begging. Thomas starts hyperventilating, but that doesn't stop him from ramming into you to the hilt.

Your mouth opens in a wordless scream as he does, and you can only lay there and relish in it as Thomas does the same.

He's quick to grip your hips and slip you almost entirely off before his hips stutter up again.

You can't stop the wail that comes out of your mouth as he fucks you onto his thick cock. "O-oh Christ, Tommy!" you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. "S-so good. Don't stop, don't stop."

While Tommy has plenty of stamina in other area, he's never been embraced like this before. Never shared his body before. A lot of people see him as a wild beast, ready to take and take and take. But that's far from the truth.

Tommy suddenly grabs you by your upper arms, and crushes you to his chest. He wraps himself around you tightly, and it's like you're being suffocated. You're like a doll to him, as his hips stall and pump you full of his cum. The only noise to come out of him is a long winded groan that almost sounds pained.

You struggle to breathe like this, but being restrained, the lack of air, and cum pulsing so deep inside of you has you clenching around his cock and choking out a moan.

Thomas gives little care as he collapses on top of you, making all the air rush out of your lungs at once. He doesn't make a move to remove himself from inside or above you.

"T-Thomas, please, I can't breath," you manage to wheeze out.

Reluctantly, he props himself up on his elbows, just enough to stop himself from pressing on you, but keeping in physical contact. Though he hold his head an awkward way, away from you.

"Hey, hey." You hand shake when you reach up and stroke the patch of bare skin above his mask. "Don't be like that."

It's a surprise that Tommy lets you lead his face down, and rest his forehead against yours. The breath you two share isn't all spring fresh, but you don't mind all that much. The sweat both of you are slicked in probably smell worse anyways.

"I really liked that Tommy." You try looking him in the eyes, but he keeps darting them away. You bet that if he took his mask off, right now he'd be blushing worse than a pastor in a strip club. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to keep doing it. I-I know you don't think you're good looking, but I do, Tommy. And I really, really like you. Like, like-like you."

It was little kid talk, and not that Thomas couldn't understand more mature language, you don't think you could bring yourself to saying the Big L-word just yet. "Do you?"

He tilts his head to side and somehow shrinks in on himself. Which is something you don't like to see because one of Thomas' big (heh) appeals is how so easily and readily he overwhelms you with his presence. Stoic, distant, and a little big irate, scowling at everyone but his mama and you. You don't mind his being soft, and vulnerable, but that's not what this was.

This is uncomfortable and unsure of himself. It may be a bit selfish of you to ask, but you want Thomas confident of himself and his emotions at all times. He deserves to feel that way.

"I mean, do you want to keep doing this? Do you..." Don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it. "Want to go steady?"

Thomas' eyes seem to light up at that. And this time, he manages to look right at you without shying away. Part of his face is incredulous. Maybe one too many times of people asking him out on dates or to prom or homecoming as a joke.

But Thomas knows you, and knows you would never do that. He manages out a tentative grunt, and a short nod. And when the biggest grin in all of damn Texas crosses your face, Thomas melts into your arms.

#leatherface #leatherface x reader #Thomas Hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #lemon

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heavenunderthemoon · 4 years ago

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Growing Pains - Spencer Reid {Prologue}

NEVADA

"Come on, scaredy-cat, you're missin' the views."

Y/n's accent drawled out in the dense morning air. Typically it wasn't so present- she made sure of that. Spencer was teased almost every waking second that they spent at the playground and she wasn't about to give the other kids any ammunition against her if she could help it. But, with the sleepy fog that blanketed the two children, chasing them as they raced to catch the sunrise, it happened to slip out.

Spencer Reid wiped his sweaty hands against his weathered jeans. He needed to get a new pair, this one was just about used up. There were holes at the knees from the amount of times he had fallen on them. "Fallen". He used the word freely even if it meant a group of older kids pushing him down in the school parking lot.

He tugged his eyes off where he had been focusing so intensely on his task of climbing- he was no good at climbing, or running, or anything physical, really, but y/n liked that kind of stuff and he wasn't about to disappoint the one person who actually chose to befriend him.

Through his cracked, crooked glasses, he could see his thirteen year old counterpart already sat atop the monkey bars she had chosen as their sunrise lookout spot. They weren't allowed to sit atop them as decreed by many adults who had seen far too many broken limbs become the result of it. This was, of course, another reason his hands were sweating as badly as they were. Y/n didn't seem to care, and he knew for a fact she didn't.

The girl was scared of very little, something he was rather envious of.

The two had met only six years ago at the very same playground they sat at today. Spencer recalled the day without trouble, his eidetic memory playing no hand in the matter. It was hard to forget someone like Y/n. His mother (on her good days) called the girl a hurricane. She was comparative to all the heroes, protagonists, and brave warriors they read about before bed.

His nose had been stuck in a book. His father had told him to go outside. 'You need to get out of the house, it's not healthy to be a shut-in like you are.'

Despite being only seven, Spencer had very adamantly tried to protest that he was in good health and that no part of it was at risk from staying inside and wanting to read, but his father wanted no part in the debate, shooing the boy outside and shutting the door behind him.

Sweat dripped down his forehead in the hot Las Vegas air, and the Reid boy silently wished he had been given a beverage of some kind to take with him.

There was a hose, of course, sat outside the park that the children often used to quench their thirst but his mind raced with images of germs and bacteria climbing down his hands and throat from the use of it so he decided he would be better off passing out due to dehydration.

No sooner had he turned a page was the book ripped from his hands, thrown to the ground. Before he could protest, he felt himself lifted from the bench he had been perched on, tossed into the dirt like a rag doll. He knew the boy, of course. It was a thirteen year old, one of the ones that liked to mess with him at school. Being placed in advanced classes had seemed like a great opportunity until he met people like this. The ones who liked to tease and toss and bully him until he cried.

Spencer tensed, waiting for the inevitable kick to his body that would surely make the boy roar with laughter, but it never came. Instead, a shadow blocked out the unforgiving sun, making the Reid boy squint his eyes open just enough to see the culprit.

A girl, his age, no doubt, had placed herself between the boy and himself. Her sneakers were dirty, and her skin was littered in traces of mud and dirt, like she had romped around in it before coming here. On her head sat a baseball cap, worn and weathered, shielding her just a tiny bit from the heat. She crossed her arms, a fierce scowl on her face.

Despite being seven, the girl's stance was nothing short of confidence and something about the way she squeezed her fists at her sides told Spencer she had a reason to be.

"Leave him alone." Her tiny voice was clipped and hardened.

The boy sneered. He had a smushed face, reddened with the heat and maybe a bit of embarrassment at being scolded by someone so much smaller than him. "Keep walking, Princess. This ain't your business."

The girl's eyes seemed to steel over. Spencer wanted to see what color they were but with her hat his view was obscured. "Are you gonna hurt him?" She demanded.

The meathead laughed out a yes, and the girl scowled.

"Then it is my business, mouth breather. Pick on someone your own size." Brave as she was, Spencer didn't see how this was going to help him. Not only did he now fully expect to get pummeled, he probably would have to try his very best to protect the girl before him. She was small, even shorter than him, and the boy was two times bigger than her.

"Or what?" The boy prodded.

And then, in one swift second, the girl was tackling the boy's legs, which was pretty much all she could aim for because she only came to hip height. He clearly hadn't been expecting an attack and landed onto the ground with an 'OOF'. Before he could react, the girl was a rage of fists and fury, angry shrieks heard from her tiny body.

It was a sight to see. A tiny little seven year old girl adorned in dirty overalls and muddied sneakers punching the daylights out of a thirteen year old boy. He was crying, not having enough time to regain his balance before the girl had knocked more than enough sense into him. His nose was bent at an extremely awkward angle, and she jumped off his dazed figure. Spencer watched all of this in awe, and hardly protested when she latched onto his hand, grabbing his book and taking off. They raced to find a place to take cover.

While the girl had done some damage, it wasn't enough to keep him down.

They sat in a secluded, forgotten doghouse on the perimeter of the park for what seemed like hours, though was probably only twenty minutes, panting, their eyes peeking out of cracks to try and find their aggressor.

"Are you okay?" Spencer finally gathered the courage to ask. She had returned his book to him- there was a splash of dried mud on it but he was just glad it was in one piece. Often times he had to return tattered material to the library and explain how it happened.

The girl was scowling down at her hand, flexing it and unflexing it. It was red, swelled a bit, but fine all the same. She grunted, nodding. "Hand hurts." She shrugged.

Spencer bit his lip, studying her a bit more. He couldn't recall ever meeting the girl, though that wasn't that much of a surprise. He hardly ever spent time with children his own age. He didn't have to. But the girl had protected him without hesitation.

"I'm sorry." He settled, but the girl turned up a brow.

They were squished in that doghouse, and they were lucky they were small because had they been any bigger they might've spilled out of the enclosure entirely. "Why are you sorry? That moron was picking on you."

"You punched him." Spencer couldn't help but notice how dumb he sounded, but he couldn't help himself. The girl confused him terribly.

Her brown hair jiggled under her hat as she nodded. "Yup." She drawled. There was a slight accent to it, one he didn't know the origin of. But it was slow and dripped like honey. "I've got a couple of brothers." She said plainly. Looking up from her hand, eyes meeting the Reid boy's, he could finally make out the color of her eyes.

They were brown. It was warm and looked like the smell of chocolate. She extended her other hand to him.

"I'm y/n."

He eyed the hand displayed to him. He absolutely hated the thought of the transference of pathogens, however she had just saved his life. He figured a handshake was in order.

"Spencer."

The memory spat him back out in an instant, and he refocused on climbing the playground structure. The sun was beginning to kiss the dry, Nevada plain, and Spencer settled himself ungracefully beside the girl. He wasn't afraid of heights so much as he was afraid someone would catch them.

Y/n's feet dangled carelessly over the edge, and she looked to the boy with a grin. "I got you something." She was reaching into her pocket as he protested, hushing his flustered ramblings.

"My birthday isn't for another week, Y/n." He whined.

"Well yeah, otherwise this wouldn't be a surprise."

She still had that same hat on her head. Spencer had learned that it was a remnant of the girl's mother. Y/m/n was a woman with a penchant for trouble and after having y/n had run off into the night, leaving three boys, a husband, and a newborn baby girl. Spencer didn't get why she wore it. She barely ever spoke of her mom- partly because she didn't even meet her and partly because the subject seemed taboo. But, he never questioned it.

The brunette hid her hand behind her back, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Close your eyes. Seriously, close them."

If it was anyone else, Spencer would have refused, but it was y/n. So, he closed his eyes, holding out his hands when she requested and feeling something land in his palms. With her permission, he opened his eyes to find a necklace. He rose a brow, bringing it closer to examine it.

The chain was silver, only a tiny pendant on the whole of it. It read "Friend", on it, and it clicked in his mind when he glanced to the girl's neck, where an identical chain sat. Her's read "best", and he grinned at the notion.

They were friends.

It still baffled him why she hung out with him. She wasn't in advanced classes, they didn't go to the same school, they didn't even live in the same neighborhood. They shared absolutely zero similarities- well, maybe Star Wars, but that was as far as their realm of shared characteristics went.

Where he was cowardly, she was brave. Where she was athletic, he was clumsy. He liked sticking his nose in books and she liked hanging upside down from monkey bars.

"Do you like it?" Her tone had softened with insecurity and it was one of those rare moments y/n was ever silent.

His lips quirked upward, wider than he thought possible. With his mother's situation worsening and stress from school, he could hardly smile anymore. But y/n was always good at causing it.

"I love it." He reassured.

A grin spread across her face once more, before it lowered, and she took on a grimace. "You're graduating soon." It wasn't a question, only sorrow lacing her tone.

Their tiny moment of happiness dampened a bit with the revelation, though Spencer knew it had been on the back of their minds for a while now. While he was enthralled at the prospect of leaving the tiny little high school that tortured him so, he loathed the idea of leaving behind his only friend. She wouldn't graduate for another five years. What would become of them?

"Yeah." He forced his eyes back onto the sunrise. Usually he was a rambling mess, spouting facts and statistics but Teddy had always accomplished shutting him up. A hand fell onto his, and he didn't move it away. He would never move away her hand.

"You won't forget about me, right? You'll call or write or visit-" This was one of the 'serious' y/n moments. The ones that made him wonder if this was what she was really like under all the toughness she paraded around. The ones that made him glance at her like a bug under a microscope, wondering what else she was hiding in that head of hers.

His mind raced with a million things to say, thought whizzing around his head as he tried to carefully dissect what the right words were.

"Of course. You're my best friend."

She gave him a look charged with doubt. "You better." And in a flash, she had barricaded herself behind the tough facade she always did, that happy little smile gracing her lips. "Or else I'll kill you dead, hear me?" She nudged his shoulder enough to rattle him, and he laughed loudly.

He didn't ever want to leave this moment. A moment where it was just the two of them, filled with promises of tomorrow and memories of the past.

But he did. In a year's time, Spencer Reid would make his way to the bus station catching the first bus to Pasadena. Y/n would pack up and move from Las Vegas (her dad got another job), and the correspondence between the two would eventually fizzle out. Slowly, but surely, y/n y/l/n and Spencer Reid lost contact all together.

It isn't until later, much, much later, that their story will pick up once more. Not until y/n is offered a job at the Behavioral Analysis Unit and finds herself face to face with a rather familiar looking genius.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

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aespawpaq · 3 years ago

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Netflix and Chill (3)

IMAX and CLIMAX

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Sunghoon gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; sh is an avid history channel viewer, sh hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, sh goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

Sunghoon sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Sunghoon’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

Sunghoon scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Sunghoon greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Isa swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Isa, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Sunghoon picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Sunghoon’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Sunghoon invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Sunghoon not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Sunghoon is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Sunghoonie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Sunghoon was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Sunghoon rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Sunghoon, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Sunghoon’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Sunghoon apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Sunghoon’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Sunghoon laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

——

You rarely use the key Sunghoon gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Sunghoon’s house were either the result of Sunghoon picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Sunghoon inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

His mom was going to kill him.

“ Sunghoon?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Sunghoon had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, hoon, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Heeseung would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Sunghoon goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Sunghoon doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Sunghoon’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Sunghoon doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “hoon, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Sunghoon’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Sunghoon sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

Sunghoon scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Sunghoon sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Sunghoon crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Sunghoon’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Sunghoon quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Sunghoon clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Sunghoon will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Sunghoon is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Sunghoon has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Sunghoon scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Sunghoon falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

Sunghoon says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Sunghoon gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Sunghoon sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Sunghoon laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Sunghoon teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Sunghoon has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

Sunghoon groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Sunghoon preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Sunghoon, you always came first. Sunghoon’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Sunghoon was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Sunghoon grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Sunghoon’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Sunghoon kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Sunghoon was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Sunghoon rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Sunghoon’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

Any other day Sunghoon would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today… well.

You were playing a different game.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

The action makes Sunghoon scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Sunghoon, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Sunghoon never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Sunghoon had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Sunghoon gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

Sunghoon was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Sunghoon leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Sunghoon smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Sunghoon sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Sunghoon hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Sunghoon doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Sunghoon adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Sunghoon‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Sunghoon, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Sunghoon finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

Sensing your uncertainty, Sunghoon tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Sunghoon kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Sunghoon takes your wrists in his hands.

Sunghoon mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Sunghoon that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Sunghoon smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “hoon!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Sunghoon’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Sunghoon either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “ Sunghoon, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Sunghoon wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

Sunghoon chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Sunghoon reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Sunghoon’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

Behind you Sunghoon tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Sunghoon scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

“And?” Sunghoon asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Sunghoon snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Sunghoon barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “hoon— Sunghoon!”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Sunghoon nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Park Sunghoon, maybe Isa was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Sunghoon is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Sunghoon responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your hoon now.”

“My… hoon,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Sunghoon chases both your second orgasms.

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Sunghoon hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Sunghoon catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

Sunghoon laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don’t wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Park Sunghoon,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Sunghoon’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

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