#Uncomfortable By Seeing Him Half Naked

[madeinkorea-blbambeyond]

MAN CRUSH FANDOM • MADE IN KOREA

KANG JUN KYU

[Stage Name: JUN.Q]

HAN JUNG WAN

[sysig]

“He found it oddly difficult.” (Patreon)

[yawnderu]

>Simon has a neet weirdo as a best friend Or Simon Riley lets his best friend see his naked body for art references.

This wasn't the way Simon was expecting to spend his PTO; naked in his best friend's bed with his hand covering his soft cock, hoping not to make you uncomfortable as you took notes of his body's reactions.

“Can you like... get hard?” He was trying his best not to get hard, going as far as to think about gross things he's seen throughout the years to distract himself from the feeling of your nails raking up and down his bare stomach, defined muscles tensing and bulging beneath your palm.

“'S not how it works.” He grumbled out, tired brown eyes looking away from you. Simon isn't embarrassed— not at all, he's simply not used to someone inspecting him the way you are, curious eyes fully focused on his body, taking in every single tattoo and scar, living proof of how many times he's kicked death's ass.

“Well, just think about... I don't know, tits.” He lets out a dry chuckle at the awkwardness in your tone, trying your best to keep it professional in the name of art. He looks down at you with pure amusement the moment he sees your hand drifting up, tracing the outline of his defined, muscular pecs.

You take a second to fully admire the view in front of you, absent-mindedly starting to play with his erect nipple, not registering the way his breath hitches. Simon looks like a gladiator— lightly tanned skin making his rippling muscles stand out greatly, becoming the virtual image of ancient Greek fantasies, a plethora of scars showing how often he crosses the edge of death.

“Gettin' a bit touchy there.” His playful tone doesn't save the mild embarrassment, about to let go of his nipple before his rough, calloused hand grasps your wrist, encouraging you to keep touching him.

“'S working.” Simon's other hand moves out of the way slightly, just barely enough for you to see his hardening cock, veins starting to become more prominent along his long, meaty shaft. He doesn't protest when you move his hand out of the way, getting a perfect look at him.

“That's... oddly interesting.” The awkwardness coming from you never fails to amuse him, only making his ego inflate by the second, even when you look down at your notebook to keep taking notes of his body's reactions.

“Does it feel weird to get a boner?” He thinks about it for a few seconds before shaking his head, holding back a laugh at the blunt questions. In the name of art, she says.

“Not weird, just... I don't know, bird.” The expectant look that you give him distracts him for a second, trying to think of a better way to explain it.

“Feels good. Bit tingly most of the time, and you can feel it... y'know, grow.” Explaining what getting a boner feels like isn't the weirdest thing he's done for you, half-lidded brown eyes focused on the way you simply nod and keep taking notes, using his words as inspiration for the erotic novels he knows you write.

The room is almost quiet for a few minutes, Simon's breathing becoming harder being the only sound, feeling your soft hands caressing every single inch of his skin, feeling him up more than he can take... and ultimately edging him without even being aware, stopping to take notes every once in a while.

“I can show you how a man jacks off, too. For the sake of art, yeah?”

[lizzy019]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── 18+! ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Nikto who has a lopsided cock because the bindings Zakhaev put him in made it mould uncomfortably. It's never fully erect anymore, and it doesn't exactly feel the same as it used to. He feels it through the moment, whether it be a passionate or aggressive night with you.

Nikto who has a missing testicle and suffers with hypospermia (the lack of sperm cells but not infertile). He didn't know if you would still want to suck him off, and he was quite nervous to show you. But everything seemed to change when you got on your knees to kiss his half erection and cup his one testicle.

Nikto who can't suck love marks into your skin because of his broken, misshapen and malnourished lips. While he would love to see your neck and shoulders covered in hickeys and nibbles, is biting such a bad option?

Nikto who absolutely adored your body, and he honestly would kill to see you in lingerie. The lacey fabric would make you look angelic, more so that you already look! Maybe a bright white or a suiting shade of deep green would look nice on you, but he doesn't know if you want to wear it and he won't force you,

Nikto who DEFINITELY has a breeding kink. It's the Russian part of him, he needs to have offspring to keep his name going. And when you're finally pregnant, growing a child just for him within your womb, he would still eat you tf out, even when you're just a bit too close to the finish line.

Nikto who loves degrading you when he's on top, but melts and fucking nuts when you praise him in any sort of way. He's damn near never gotten any validation during sex, but with you? No, he knows his cock is making you feel good.

Nikto who only lasts long when he's on top, forcing his misaligned cock into you with brutally paced thrusts. He'll be moving you into different positions every few minutes, needing to feel you in every possible way. Just... not when he's bottoming. He'll cum so quick that it almost always leads to you receiving some head.

Nikto who got fucking hard in his pants the first time he saw you naked. Like- damn. Why the hell did you have to be so damn gorgeous? How could he ever manage to catch someone as stunning as you? He worships you, mainly whenever it's an intimate setting.

Nikto who definitely gropes you a bit too hard. You have to forgive him, малышка, you're just so pretty! Mainly your tits, whether you have or not. Pretty nipples hardening under the callouses of his hand, he just can't get enough!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── 18+! ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

@fishsinsareacknowledged @frogcereal29 @simp4konig @puracatt :)

[toorusluvr]

... 𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

characters: sylus (love and deepspace) x f!reader

content warnings: vaginal penetration sex + p in v + cowgirl position + mirror sex + sylus being cocky and sarcastic + kneeling sex + missionary sex + unprotected sex + not proofread lol i'm sorry this was written on a whim

notes from nis: my first ever sylus smut lol he has been on my mind ever since the first day he was announced! he has no business being this hot! anyway, if you're also a haikyuu fan pls check out my series featuring iwaizumi hajime ehe. as usual, your likes, reblogs, and comments are very much appreciated! <333 listen to around me - metro boomin ft. don toliver while reading! (only bcs i listened to it on repeat while writing this it's my new fav song atm!!)

sylus who got really interested and was in awe the entire time you were riding him. sylus sees himself as someone who would rather take the initiative in everything that he does, especially sex. after all, he always carries this dominating aura to wherever he goes. but he's not dumb enough to turn down his sweet little girlfriend's intriguing offer to be on top. you wanna show him? go ahead, sweetie. he's your audience and he wants you to entertain him. stun him, make him praise you.

what got sylus going was how enthusiastic you looked when you were on top of him, riding him to the extent your legs were sore enough to walk the moment after. sylus's cock was big and thick. it was no picnic to be on top, taking all of him while trying to work on your hips back and forth, grinding on his cock. you whimpered and moaned endlessly. from grinding to bouncing on his cock but he never once interrupted your hard work.

"mm, sylus, please. need you," you whined, hips stuttering to continue fucking yourself dumb on his cock. it's been almost half an hour but your orgasm was so close yet so far. sylus knew you were starting to get desperate to come, to chase that high you were desperate for. but, he needed you to last longer so you know he won't be giving in to you easily.

sylus's laugh was deep and warm, like the gentle roll of thunder. his eyes crinkled and his shoulders shook as his chuckles filled the room. "sweetie, you know the drills when you got on top of me. why don't you be a good girl and finish what you started, hm?" his hand then smacked your bottom as a sign of disapproval. seemed like sylus wasn't too happy when you were whining to him.

you threw your head back, groaning in frustration. this man wouldn't let you give up easily. said that you must persevere no matter what the occasions are. you must rise and be the strongest. but not like this! not when you were vulnerable, aching and desperate for him to take control.

both your hands were now planted on his sculpted chest. his chest glistened with sweat, a bit slippery for you to hold. you then moved closer, your tits pressed against his chest. your arms circled around his broad shoulders. sylus shifted uncomfortably beneath you as he felt your hardened nipples brushed against his sensitive chest. fuck.

again, you rocked your hips, slowly grinding on his cock filling you up so good. all warm and thick inside of you. there was a large full-length mirror next to his bed. from ceiling to floor kind of mirror. he installed it long time ago but you never knew what purpose does it serve. maybe now it finally clicked in your mind.

you've always enjoyed seeing yourself in the mirror or any other reflective surface. maybe this moment needed you to focus on yourself instead of the man underneath you. slowly, you got up. your attention was no longer on sylus but the mirror next to the bed. sylus then shifted his gaze towards the mirror too. now, both of you were staring into each other's eyes through the reflection.

your naked bodies exposed, displaying your most intimate time together. slowly, you rocked your hips, trying to find your rhythm. the tip of his cock nudging your sensitive spot with each thrust. your soft yet heavy pants coming from you filled sylus's room. the man didn't even bat an eye at your noises. his hands then moved to your waist, keeping your hips steady.

since sylus won't take control, you decided to take the matter into your own hands. you know too well he'd end up a whining mess if you started bouncing on his cock. since he was too smug to help you, you planted both your hands on his lower abdomen. your hips moved sensually, grinding on him slowly before you got on your knees and moved up and down his cock. sylus let out a staggered breath once he felt your cunt clenched tightly around his aroused cock.

his larger hands had a firm grip on your waist. he didn't even have to guide your hips now that you did it all by yourself. you alternate between grinding and bouncing up and down his cock. sylus let out soft grunts when your hips started moving faster, just fucking yourself with his cock. what pissed him off was that your attention wasn't even on him but the stupid mirror.

you looked at your drop dead gorgeous reflection in the mirror, bouncing up and down his cock. your tits jiggled with each bounce. you whimpered pathetically at the way his cock nudged your most sensitive spot. "fuck me," you muttered under your breath.

sylus's eyebrows knitted as he grumbled, "you're already doing that, sweetie. using my cock like a sex toy, huh?"

still, you weren't looking at him. he got frustrated so he flipped both of you over. he had the upper hand and he used it to his advantage. he couldn't stand not looking at you in the eyes. to not have your attention on him is fatal to him. sylus needs those beautiful pair of eyes to be on him at all times.

you squealed the moment he used his force to flip you guys over. your back pressed against his bed, his height towered over you. "what's so interesting about that mirror, hm? i need your eyes on me, kitten," he spoke in between sharp intakes of breath, each exhalation coming out raggedly.

sylus's thrust was merciless. he kept fucking you like tomorrow doesn't exist. his patience runs thin when he's inside you. he loves taking his time with you but now, he just wants to make you a crying mess. you stumbled upon your words, unable to speak when your cunt being stretched by his thick cock.

you clawed against his back. several faint scratches decorating his muscular back. "fuck, sylus! give me more, please!"

sylus then cupped your chin when you had your eyes shut. he tightened the hold on your cheeks, "open your eyes, sweetie. i need your eyes on me or else i'll leave you high and dry. eyes on me, sweetie. it's now or never." sylus's voice was a dark, smooth blend of sensuality and power, each words punctuated with a commanding edge. typical sylus.

feeling so dazed in your lust, you slowly opened your eyes. his handsome face came into your sight. hair all messy and some strands were sticking to his forehead that was glistened with sweats. he smirked, crimson eyes looking down at you. his gaze filled with hidden desires.

sylus once again flipped both of you over. this time, he got you on all fours, positioning you in front of the mirror. you gasped loudly when he didn't give you any break from his punishing thrusts. at this point, your cunt could remember his cock so damn well. you tried hanging your head low, shying away from the intense gaze sylus was giving you. but he tugged on your hair, making you squeal.

it's like he had you on a leash with the way he tugged on your hair. not until he pressed your back against his front. now both of you were skin to skin again. sylus's ragged breaths felt warm, tingling your ear. you gulped hard. the heat radiating from sylus's body engulfed your skin. sweats started to run along your back. both of you were sweaty and satiated but no one had their first orgasm yet.

"fuck, look at you, sweetie. looking grumpy just because you cannot make yourself come, hm?" sylus's words taunted you. a smirk tugged in the corner of his lips seeing your frustrated expression. yeah, he hit a nail with that one. "my cock is not good enough for you, sweetie?"

you wanted to tell him to shut his mouth but that would be fatal. nah, he won't kill you. he loves you too much. still. you don't dare to go that route yet. "please, sy. i'm tired," you tried bargaining. a negotiation with the devil? yeah, best of luck to that.

sylus scoffed. his jaw ticked at your pitiful plea. "no, not yet, sweetie," he groaned, head thrown back. sylus stifled the rising impulses to come inside you, but he pushed them down with deliberate effort to maintain control over his cold reactions. "ah, fuck," he cursed under his breath.

he fucked you hard and fast, to the point you got overstimulated and tears started streaming down your face. sylus made you watch you cried your eyes out while being pounded relentlessly. your tits jiggled with each punishing thrust. it was sinful, really. but the devil has seen worse. this was blissful. a piece of heaven he could get.

"ah, sylus!" you screamed at the top of your lungs. sylus's hand reached down to cup your pussy, thumb ghosted over your clit. he let his touch lingered there for a while. eventually, he started to draw circles on your puffy clit, waiting for your orgasm to break loose. your breaths came in erratic bursts, each one uneven and sharp as if you were struggling to catch up.

sylus felt the way your pussy clenched around his cock so tightly, it might never want to leave. it was pushing him to his limits too. fuck fuck fuck. he couldn't do this dance any longer. he pushed your body down to the bed, pressing on your back as you arched your back for him. his cock pounded your pussy harder that each breath that came out of you felt hard. you cried with each breath until your orgasm finally broke, releasing the high and endorphins all over the system.

"fuck," you sobbed as you gathered your breath slowly. sylus fucks like a mad man. but he was yet to come so he used you, he used your pussy until his come, hot and thick, filling your womb to the brim. though a wave of dizziness threatened to overtake him, sylus steadied himself and pushed through, determined to check on his girlfriend.

"fuck, sweetie. you were..." he ran out of words. but sylus managed to pick where he left off, "you were so good for me."

you let out a breathless chuckle, "you must persevere, yeah sure i did, babe."

sylus's chuckle was a deep, gravelly rumble, each note rasping out with a rich, textured quality. "mhm, using my words against me, sweetie? have i underestimated your determination or overestimated your intellect?"

he then laid you down on his bed, limbs tangled with each other. both of you tried to gather your consciousness and breath together. "love to see you get all worked up, sweetie," he whispered before planting a kiss on your cheek. "like a feisty kitten." you then hit him on the chest. what a way to ruin your post-orgasmic bliss. sylus must be tone deaf since he cannot read the room at all. but he's a damn good guy when he wants to be and you happen to love both his good and bad sides. that's what makes him even more special.

divider creds to cafekitsune <3

[lovebugism]

hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if you’re going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to r’s sex life bc they’ve never thought to b otherwise… enter Hawkins’ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can 💖🫡

ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D — eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)

Eddie’s face appears from beneath the covers — pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. He’s still got his ringed fingers wrapped ‘round your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity he’d had when his face was shoved between them. 

He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. “Is this okay?” he slurs between labored pants.

You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s— it’s good,” you answer breathlessly, though you don’t think that describes the half of it.

There aren’t enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How you’re throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.

“Okay. Good,” he huffs with a lazy nod. 

His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you know? ‘Cause you weren’t… You weren’t really… Saying anything.”

He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. “What was I… What was I supposed to say?” you squeak.

“Nothing!” he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. “It’s just… Most— Most people moan when they feel good and stuff…” His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. “I mean, you’ve heard me. I’m fucking loud.”

He is. He’s more than loud, actually — full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when you’re with him ‘cause he’s constantly rambling about how good you feel.

“Fuck, baby, that’s good— Oh, shit,” he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.“Gonna make me cum— so fucking hard— in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuck—”

You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin. 

You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.

“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly. “I just… I guess, I’m just quiet. I don’t know.”

Eddie smiles like he isn’t wearing your slick all over his chin. “That’s okay,” he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. “But you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”

You blink at him until you realize the question isn’t rhetorical. 

His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod. 

“Be as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you want…”

—————

He’s a menace.

Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.

He doesn’t eat your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you — like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life. 

Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. It’s like he can’t help but be so sloppy. Like he can’t help but drool all over your pussy ‘cause he loves it so damn much.

“Eddie, please,” you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. “I wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.”

If he’s doing all this to get you talking, well, it’s fucking working.

His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out — mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like he’s found heaven in your pussy.

“Shit,” he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. “You taste too good… Got me all distracted… Wasn’t tryin’ to tease you, babe, I swear.”

He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. “Fuck, Eds,” you gasp — back arched, head thrown back.

“Need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more. 

“Please, Eds,” you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good he’s making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.

Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. “Wanna cum?” he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. “Wanna cream on my tongue?”

You whine at the vulgarity of his words — and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.

Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. “Then keep talking for me, yeah?”

[gay-dorito-dust]

i dont know if your asks/requests are open so please feel free to ignore this (also if it makes you uncomfortable) but could you do batboys seeing you after a big event taking all the stuff off, like getting unready ig

my bf saw me peeling off my boob tape and heard me scream then said that im never allowed to wear that dress again 😭😭

Not the boob tape 💀sorry for taking so long and Dick and Jason were the only ones my little overworked brain could think of for this one. 🐿️🦦

Dick

‘Would you like some help with that?’ He’d ask cheekily from behind you.

‘You just want an excuse to see me naked, perv.’ You replied, pushing him away by the face with a smile.

‘Twas only a suggestion my love.’ Dick laughed as he raised his hands in defence.

‘Yeah a suggestion of which would allow you to see me naked.’ You reiterated as you sat yourself on the edge of the bed to take off your shoes that had been killing your feet the entire night.

Dick pouted. ‘Is that all you see me, your sweet beloved partner, as an undignified pervert with no sense of control over my urges?’ He inquired as he crossed his arms over his chest.

‘Would you like an honest answer to that?’ You asked rhetorically.

‘Would you at least let me message your feet at least?’ Dick pleaded, ‘they must’ve been killing you sweetheart and I know how much you love my full body massages.’ He adds with a little wink, causing you to throw a pillow at him for that suggestive remark before going back to massaging your foot, only to be unable to reach the spots that were killing you the most.

Annoyed, tired and fed up, you then presented Dick with your foot and watched as his face practically light up. ‘Go on then since you’re so eager to please.’

Dick smirked. ‘Don’t I always?’

You pointed warningly at him. ‘Keep this up and I’m going to revoke some of your privileges.’

Dick only smiled as he knelt before you, kissing your exposed knee as his hands trailed up and down your leg before holding your foot. ‘I’m sure after this you’ll retract that statement.’ He confidently tells you and you scoff. ‘Oh yeah? I highly doubt-fuck that’s the spot.’ You groaned as Dick began to massage you foot, finding the source of your discomfort almost immediately.

‘Take back your statement yet my sweet?’ Dick asked teasingly as he peppered your leg with kisses as his chants worked their magic on your foot, easing the aches, the pains and whatever else they could find with ease.

‘Shut up and manage my feet Boy Wonder.’ You replied, pushing a hand through his hair, tugging at it playfully as you allowed yourself to fall backwards and into the bed bellow, unaware of Dick’s staring.

Even as you lied there half undressed you looked like heaven incarnate to him. Tonight had been a big one for the both of you but Dick thought you did wonderful and looked stunning at the same time, however he loved the you he got to see when it was just the two of you, it was a moment where he realised how lucky he was to get to see you like this and he would do anything to keep having as long as you’d stay with him; something he hoped would be the case for a long, long time.

Jason stands in the doorway and watches you get undressed with a fondness in his eyes.

He loves watching you undress already but seeing you undress after a big event that he was forced to attend was something else entirely.

He couldn’t put his finger on it but watching you undress after a long day had become Jason’s favourite thing to do, it tickled a part of him that grew up wanting to watch his partner get ready for the day ahead just as much as watching them get undressed and ready for bed.

He loved getting to see you undress as he got to admire what others couldn’t and he couldn’t help but feel prideful and happy about that. He, Jason Todd, got to see you in a way that others could never begin to understand.

You saw him watching you in the reflective surface of the mirror and couldn’t help but chuckle at the soft look upon his face as butterflies fluttered within your stomach. ‘Can I help you there handsome?’ You asked.

‘Sorry sweetheart, you’re just so beautiful and gorgeous.’ Jason says with a dopey smile stretching across his face.

‘Jay, I’m half naked.’ You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up under his gaze, it wasn’t your fault that you managed to have quite possibly the most sweetest, most beautiful man in Gotham calling you all theses sweet things as though it was as easy as breathing.

Jason shrugs. ‘Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, half naked or not.’

You didn’t know it was possible to smile harder than you did at that moment, but you somehow managed to as you could almost feel your face split in half from your own smile. ‘That’s high praise coming from the most handsome, most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.’ You replied, looking back at him in time to see him take a deep breath as he walked over to you, hovering his hands over your bare shoulders before you felt the warmth of his palms warm up your shoulders.

‘Well that’s high praise coming from you chipmunk.’ Jason murmured as he kisses your cheek, resting his head atop of one of his hands on your shoulder, looking at your reflection with so much love and affection thst you swore you could’ve melted to a puddle in an instant. ‘Now how about you let me help you out of this thing and we can dress comfortably and head to bed for some cuddles, how does that sound.’ Jason adds and you couldn’t help but lean into him, tiredness making its home within your bones.

‘That sounds like heaven to me.’ You told him, kissing his cheek.

[piggycyberwarrior]

Summary: After Task Force 141 got a hint that you gave important information to their enemy- the boys do not hesitate to chain you up and give you a taste of hell. You on the other hand are innocent but they do not believe you

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Platonic Task Force 141! x Fem!Reader (Simon Ghost Riley x Reader) a/n: pretty proud of that ngl.. enjoy guys love you!

Warnings: uhm this whole fic is basically a warning. Torture; Blood; Mental Health; Angst angst angst not proof read

genre: ANGST

+ 1,6k words

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

You thought you were going insane.

Maybe you already were, but it was no suprise- seeing the circumstances you were in. Arms stretched uncomfortably backwards and up- chains rubbing your wrists painfully raw. The stress position Soap put you in wasn't easy peasy lemonsqueezy.

Tears brimming in your eyes at the thought. You felt fucking betrayed. You were fucking betrayed, for gods sake! by your own team- the people you cried with- the people that you loved more than yourself- the people you called your family. That one man you took a bullet for.

Fuck all that bullshit.

Those were the same people that didn't believe you when things got rocky. When some pricks pointed their fingers at you- they immediately treated you as an enemy. The same people that chained you up. The same man that made you fucking blind on one eye

Everything was a lie, apparently.

The cell you were in was shady- you didn't expect something different- i mean you just served the military for many years and did everything for your country- of course you didn't deserve something more decent.

In the end you didn't care. Just waited.

When Gaz interrogated you- you kept your mouth shut. What should you do? Lie? Fuck no, you had so much self respect left, even in this dehumanizing situation.

of course your facade broke often times- you were only human after all. And it hurt- you were in this situation before- tortured by your enemies knowing that you would probably outlive them anyway as your team would rip them apart in a few days.

But now- being here- seeing how your 'friends'- your family- spat at you with nothing more than hate made you feel even more miserable- knowing, that no one will safe you this time.

You cried- having panick attacks deep into countless nights-being triggered by any small sound that wasn't coming from you or that rat in the corner of the room. Yelling at them- telling them that you didn't do shit. They didn't believe you.

Spiraling deep in your thoughts- shoulders sore and numb hands from the stress position- still tasting a faint trace of your own blood-

the sensory of the dried up blood on your cheek was uncomfortable at the beginning- cracking everytime you opened your mouth- but it quickly got kicked to the bottom of your worries as Price's wodden bat flew into your face yesterday- tooth flying onto the ground as you spat the crimson liquid at his feet- earning another strike from your Captain.

Your Saliva turning pink with the blood, sticking to your chin- slowly dripping down- having no free hand to wipe it off.

.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

.

You were here for about 1 and a half weeks now- how'd you know that? because you could hear the guards mutter something behind that steal door.

You shivered, suffering from hypothermia, a consequence of being almost naked in this shithole. Simon himself stripped you down- ignoring your pleas and protests.

Simon.

The man you did everything for, took a bullet for, cared for and slept with. He was the love of your life- or so you thought.

You were never scared of Simon. Since the first day you met him- you were kinda drawn to that giant of a man. Always spawning in his near with hearts in your eyes- Soap always made fun of you- but he found it cute neverthless, he could see that Simon didn't hate you.

You stitched him up- knew his fears (being a therapists daughter was quite a help for having deep convos), you knew of his past- even if it took you years to finally break his many iron walls down

You saw his face- kissed his scars and showered him with your time and love- giving him your all- even your body.

You weren't in a relationship- but everybody knew that Simon 'Ghost' Riley liked you. Even if you didn't tell anybody from the Force.

In the end it seemed not be enough, as the same man nearly strangled you to death down here. At first you were desperate, scared- but you stopped pleading a long time ago.

.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

.

heavy footsteps shook you out of your trance- spiraling thoughts stopping for a mere second as you looked into his stone cold eyes.

Balaklava on his scarred face- making you inhale sharply- heart throbbing at his sight. The black paint around his eyes made them pierce through the dark even more.

The same paint you applied more than once onto his unique face. he looked beautiful in your eyes. Even after everything that happened.

You're in here since a few nights.- Clothes starting to hang loosely around your body- having not eaten in days.

"Simon-" you croaked out- voice not cooperating as it should- making you tear up. When did everything turned out to be like that? This nightmare? You flinched a bit- chains clinking softly at your slight movement when he came towards you- still not speaking.

He stared. Stared at your weak frame. The dark hole you were chained into- being in a constant state of fear- Anxiety pulling and clawing at your nerves.

You gritted your teeth- looking to the side with a defeated huff. Tears prickling in your eyes once more- threatening to fall as he watched you like you were a kicked stray dog. Maybe you were in their eyes.

"I-" you croaked out once more "I didn't do it, Simon, i swear" you whispered into the dimmly lit room- Still not looking at him. "I swear to god Simon, I didn't.." you weeped in silence as he just looked "Fuck why should I betray you!!" you screamed in frustration at his figure- tears falling as he only left- leaving you in complete darkness- letting you cry to yourself till you eventually passed out.

.

Not even two day passed before he bursted through the iron door again- the loud sound ripping you out of your unconsciousness before he angrily grabbed you by your collar- hate flickering in those eyes that once held nothing but adoration for you.

"You fuckin' liar" he seethed through gritted teeth- behind that mask. Pushing you into the wall behind you- your head knocking against the brick wall with such a force that made you wince.

You could feel his anger. And you felt the danger that radiated from the man you gave your heart to.

His hands coming up to press against your jugular with a firm grip- picking you up a few inches into the air- chains clinking again. "Y'think you hav' it in you to lie into my fuckin' face" he growled while pressing down harder- you could feel yourself getting more lightheaded- gasping for air- choking for oxygen.

"Plea' Simon" you begged inbetween small gasps- scared what he will do to you. Hands tied together, wiggling in his painful hold like a suffocating fish- legs kicking to get him away from you- it worked- you gasped, trying to get in as much air as you could while your built up saliva ran down your chin-

he let you go for a second before his fist collided with your face. Hard- knocking the air out of your lungs once more "Jus' tell us the truth" he huffed, before hitting again- at first it hurt and then it burned. Your nose cracked under his fists-

Making you see stars and breath heavily before he took the knife out you gifted him for his birthday. Both your names engraved in it-

"'t will be easier for you" he said before popping the knife out of its sheath. "No, Simon" you cried out- whilst seeing the blade. "You don't have to do this" you gasped as he came dangerously close.

"No,no,no!!" you protested as he teared down your clothing, leaving you in a bra and your underwear. Feeling helpless as he teared down your clothes- ignoring your protest. The coldness of the room let goosebumps arise on your skin almost immediately.

He was quiet. That wasn't a good sign. You waited- staring at him, pulling at your chains as he looked at the blade. Fist tightening as he saw the little heart that was engraved into the hilt. Betrayal flushed his senses as he pushed the knife into your upper leg- making you scream in return.

Twisting the knife- hearing your agony but not stopping- he quickly hit you into your left eye socket with the hilt of the knife to shut you up. he didn't want to hear your screams.

Even if he didn't wanted to admit it- he was also teared apart- but his need to let his anger out was stronger - all the time he spent with a fucking liar- gave you his fucked up heart. All for you to be a fucking snake- a traitor.

He had to do his job- protect his family.

Another jab to the eye- hearing your muffled cries echo across the room- making you see red- the burning sensation was an ugly one. You couldn't see on that eye anymore.

"I fuckin' wish I could just kill you" he seethed before leaving you there in the dark- all beat up and bloody- head throbbing and surely a broken nose- making it hard to breath.

.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

.

You waited since then. Waiting for death to come. Waiting for Ghost to end it- but of course he never came back since then. Your wounds were starting to inflame- everything hurt and burned. Your eye swelling almost shut.

They all tortured you. Johnny, Kyle, John and Simon.

But they forgot something important. You were known for being patient. A fucking patient and stubborn woman. You waited. Yes you sometimes protested, and kicked and screamed and insulted them- but you neverthless waited for the day.

The day they finally see that they wronged an innocent. The day you would hurt them. Seek revenge.

Fucking. Revenge.

-

!please do reblog! :)

join the Taglist here (Taglist post)

[readwritealldayallnight]

Saw the post of you asking if we had any tropes or ideas we wanted to see u talk abt and jumped for joy 🙏 … must ask . Do u have any thoughts on ghost finding out reader is pregnant 😋😋

I like to think Ghost starts having suspicions before you do

Wrapped around each other’s bodies, limbs tangled in the sheets as you sleep peacefully with your other half by your side, he’s never not holding at least one of your boobs in his warm calloused palms. You start to wake up with complaints about how sore they are however, his hands in complete agreement with his eyes; your tits have gotten bigger.

And though he hates to see how uncomfortable they have you feeling all of a sudden, and how you whine so cutely about how you need new bras, your cleavage spilling out of your cups, he’s finding it rather difficult not to appreciate the new view.

Next though, he’s noticing how strange it is that foods you usually loved, now have you crinkling your nose up in disgust, turning your face away from the smell, or worse, that one time you ran to the bathroom to spill the contents of your stomach, utterly repulsed by a certain odor.

But he forgets that you haven’t requested Chinese food in nearly a month when instead he’s trying to wrap his mind around how you want peanut butter and jelly on a cheeseburger.

He certainly doesn’t think twice about how you’re just tad bit friskier than usual, pinching his ass and trying to jump his bones more often. There’s never been a lack of intimacy or wanting the other in your relationship, but you seem nearly insatiable recently, using and abusing his fingers, his mouth, his dick, multiple times a day. There are no complaints on his end, your man always being borderline desperate for you.

It’s when he’s been away for work for the last two weeks and he’s walking back into the house and he sees you, that his eyes cannot deny the way you’re simply glowing. Radiating effortless beauty in a way he’s never seen before, which is saying a lot considering you knock the breath out of him every time he’s lucky enough to see even just your shadow.

You look so soft, so sweet, so perfectly his.

He’s searching for a cloth to warm up under the faucet, preparing to clean up the mess he’s just made of you in bed over the last few hours, when his eyes land on the unopened box of tampons under the bathroom sink. His mind starts quickly doing the math, believing that in theory you should have had to open this pack by now, when things begin to click for him.

Laying naked on your back atop the messy sheets, still catching your breath and coming back down to earth after the many times Simon brought you to bliss tonight, you’re admittedly confused when he comes back into the bedroom without the towel he said he was going to get. You’re even more caught off guard when he approaches you and lays two hands on the sides of your stomach, face approaching your abdomen with an expression of concentration on his face.

“Si what are you-”

��Love, I think you’re pregnant.”

He’s lucky you’ve been having the same suspicion for a few days now, waiting for him to take an actual test and find out, otherwise you might be smacking him upside the head right about now.

Once you do take the test however and confirm what he already felt sure of, that he had put a baby in you, he’s asking you why it isn’t appropriate to tape it to the living room wall for everyone to see, elated to share the news with those in your lives, meanwhile you’ve just decided he won’t be helping decorate the nursery, beyond building furniture.

[jjunieworld]

more than this? ` ༘ ⋆𓂅

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: friends with benefits to lovers, smut, the slightest bit of angst, kinda mutual (unknown) pining??

synopsis: when beomgyu asked you to be fuck buddies, you thought it was risky considering your already growing feelings for him. but, you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be close to him in any way that you could. now you’re wondering if the two of you will ever be anything more than this.

warnings: unprotected sex (no!!), dom!beomgyu, sub!reader, fingering, creampie, multiple orgasms, slight praise, petnames (baby), some aftercare

word count: 3.1k┊masterlist

author's note: when i tell you i was literally working against the clock for this one to post it on time for beomgyu’s birthday… happy birthday beomgyu!! :)) this was kinda inspired by the song k. by cigarettes after sex! hopefully i can get past this writer’s block so i can start posting regularly again :( i hope you enjoy!! ♡

the mixture of you and beomgyu’s pants filled your bedroom. the two of you had been going at it in different positions for hours and the sun had just started to come up. your body was essentially jello by now but the feeling of beomgyu inside you felt too good to stop. besides, you knew this was the only time you could ever be intimate with him.

when the idea of you and beomgyu being friends with benefits first arose, you were hesitant to accept his offer. the two of you were close, but not exactly bestfriends. you refused to let yourself get that close to him knowing you had feelings for your longtime friend. it was also difficult knowing that he mainly just wanted a quick fuck whenever you were down for it.

but, you couldn’t refuse. you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have your body pressed against his, your breaths mixing as he pounded deep inside you.

again, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten as the pleasure got too much for you. “beomgyu, i’m gonna c-cum again,” you spoke shakily, pushing at his shoulders. everytime the two of you were together he insisted that the main position you fucked in was missionary. “you’re face is way too pretty to just be pushed down into the sheets,” beomgyu had said.

beomgyu pressed his lips to yours, half kissing you and half moaning, “cum for me, baby. one last time.” your nails dug into his shoulders and you leaned your head back towards the headboard as you came undone. still, beomgyu slid in and out of you, helping you chase your high. his lips were on your jaw and slight whimpers were coming out of his mouth as he came right after you.

you looked at beomgyu through hooded lids and furrowed brows as you felt him release inside you once again. whining a little, you kissed him hard. after this, he would leave and you would be alone again. you didn’t want the time the two of you were spending together to end, even if the ever growing stickiness between your thighs was starting to get a little uncomfortable. you were definitely going to have to wash your sheets and comforter a couple times after this, the mix of both of your cum was all over it.

beomgyu slid out of you and fell onto the bed next to you, his hair falling over his eyes as he looked over to you. he tapped a finger to your lips, his body catching the light from the thin sheen of sweat all over him. “good?” beomgyu asked you. you giggled and nodded, “very good.” beomgyu smiled at you and got up from the bed, the sunlight coming through from the blinds lighting up with slightly dark room.

“shower with me,” beomgyu said as he walked around to your side of the bed. he held out his hand to you and you had to resist the urge to take in his naked body in front of you. you’ve seen him naked more times that you could count now, but it always shocked you to see how delicious he looked. you stood up slowly, wincing slightly from the pain in your legs, and took his hand.

you had some of beomgyu’s clothes, either from him keeping some at your apartment for future hookups or him accidentally leaving some at your place after rushing out. you didn’t mind really, it was more convenient and you liked wearing his shirts to bed after he left.

“if i can get up…” you trailed as you moved to him. “i wasn’t expecting to go for that long today,” you added as you wobbled slightly. beomgyu smirked down at you as he held you steady. “i didn’t hear you complaining,” he replied as you both made your way to your bathroom.

rolling your eyes at him playfully as you leaned against the sink, you murmured under your breath, “and you never will.” thankfully, him turning the water on covered your words. becoming fuck buddies was risky enough to the strange friendship you and beomgyu had, but adding your feelings into the mix would be catastrophic. sometimes you felt like your friendship was hanging off the ledge and one wrong move would completely destroy it and you would lose beomgyu forever.

the sound of the shower curtains drawing pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over to beomgyu. “come on,” he said and stepped into the shower and behind the curtains. you walked over and pulled the curtains back slightly to peer in at him. beomgyu’s back was to you and he was under the running water as you stepped into the shower. he turned to you with a small smile and moved you towards the water.

the two of you worked in silence as you washed your bodies, occasionally helping each other, until you were clean. you were both now sitting on your bed watching the sunrise through the window that you opened to let in the fresh air. “let me take you out to dinner,” beomgyu suddenly said, his wet hair sticking to his forehead. you turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “i feel like an asshole after we have sex. i don’t want you to feel like i’m just using you,” he then added.

isn’t that what this is though? maybe not him explicitly using you per se, but him just being here for the sex? you knitted your brows together as you thought over his proposal. you tried not to let yourself fall into the thought that beomgyu might want something more than this. you didn’t want to go through the heartbreak if you turned out to be wrong.

what damage could you going out to dinner with him do? “okay,” you nodded, speaking softly. beomgyu’s face lit up with a smile and he brought his lips to yours, causing your heart to race and your face to heat up significantly. the two of you did all the intimate things couples do, except you weren’t one. it made your head spin.

“later on today!” beomgyu exclaimed as he got up from the bed. he started to collect his things from around your bedroom. your heart sank as you realized he was about to leave. “around noon. i’ll pick you up!” he added. you put on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes as you nodded again. “i’ll see you then!” you laughed breezily, hoping to come off as carefree as you got up and followed him to the door.

beomgyu pressed another kiss to your mouth before turned to leave. you waved goodbye to him as he jogged to his car before shutting your door. pressing your head to the coldness of the door, you breathed in deeply. you desperately needed to sort out your feelings before this all became a mess.

you smoothed out your dress again as you stood in front of the mirror by your door. taking a deep breath, you checked the time on your phone again. beomgyu would be arriving any minute, which was confirmed from the incoming text of him saying he was around the corner. you still weren’t sure if this classified as a date or not and you tried—and failed miserably—to steel your nerves.

there was a knock at your door, causing you to jump. you took one last deep breath before opening it to beomgyu on the other side. a small smile grew on his face. “hi,” beomgyu said, taking in your appearance. “you look pretty!” you couldn’t help but smile back at him, especially after he called you pretty. everytime you looked at him your heart fluttered and leaped around in your chest, begging to be let free. “hi,” you replied softly, your smile growing. “thank you, you look pretty too!”

“are you ready?” beomgyu asked with a slight laugh and you nodded. he led you to his car and the two of you began the drive to whatever restaurant beomgyu had picked out.

at the restaurant, which was quite fancy from the looks of it, you got a table towards the back where it wasn’t as crowded. now you sat across from beomgyu, menu in hand, as your face heated from the sheer thought of the situation you were in. the waiter had come and taken your orders so now it was just a waiting game. you and beomgyu had been making small talk as you tried to ignore the slight grumbling of your stomach.

“i know you said you felt like an asshole, but you didn’t have to take me to dinner,” you said, letting a smile form on your face. you were trying to gauge his intentions to make your anxiety go down since pushing your feelings away clearly wasn’t working. “i do. and yeah, i did feel like an asshole, but that was mainly an excuse to ask you out to dinner with me,” beomgyu said.

you almost started to choke from an inhale gone wrong but manage to cover it up. you stared at beomgyu with wide eyes, “you wanted to take me out to dinner?” beomgyu laughed and leaned towards you slightly. “of course! who wouldn’t want to take you out to dinner?” the waiter came back with your food and you waited for them to leave before speaking.

“well you don’t really take someone you’re casually fucking out to dinner,” you blurted, stabbing your fork into the food you got. you froze as you realized what you just said. without missing a beat, beomgyu replied, “then let’s stop being casual.”

looking up at him, mouth agape, you struggled to form words. all you could manage was a choked, “what?” beomgyu shrugged and repeated his words, a smirk growing on his face. “we already do everything a couple does—kiss, fuck… and it’s not like i’m seeing anybody else—don’t even have the desire to. you’re the only one i want,” beomgyu shrugged again like he was simply saying the grass was green as he ate his food. he then looked up at you through his lashes, “unless you’re seeing someone?”

you forced your mouth to stop hanging wide open. “you want me?” you asked seriously, setting your fork onto your plate with a slight ‘clang!’ beomgyu stopped eating and looked at you, tilting his head to the side as he let out a small laugh. “y/n, are you serious?” he asked you as if you were joking around with him. when you were silent he sat his utensils down and stared at you for a couple seconds.

“i just spent hours having sex with you. you think i’d spend hours having sex with someone if i only wanted a quick fuck?” beomgyu then ask you seriously. you shrugged and looked down, pushing your food around on your plate. “being fuck buddies is different for everyone… how was i supposed to know you wanted me back?” you trailed. beomgyu gave you a bewildered look, mouth slightly ajar.

he then called over the waiter and asked for the bill and to-go boxes. you stared at him in confusion, “what are you doing?” beomgyu just shook his head at you, saying nothing. the waiter brought what he asked for and he handed you one of the to-go boxes as he paid. “beomgyu,” you spoke as he moved his food into the box. you were confused on what was happening as you mimicked his actions.

once the two of you were finished, beomgyu stood from his chair, to-go box in hand. “let’s go,” he said. you rose to your feet and grabbed your things with furrowed brows, “go where?” you desperately needed answers. “my place,” is all he said as he started towards the entrance of the restaurant.

the drive to beomgyu’s place was silent. he pushed open his front door and dragged you inside towards his bedroom, abandoning your food on the kitchen counter. you stood awkwardly in the middle of his room as you waited for some sort of explanation. “do i want you?” he murmured under his breath sarcastically like it was some joke. beomgyu turned to you suddenly, “are you seeing someone else?”

“of course not!” you exclaimed, brows knitting further together. “okay then,” beomgyu replied as he began stripping off his clothes. “what is going on?” you asked frustrated.

“i’m showing you i want you,” is all beomgyu simply said, now only in his boxers. he came up to you and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it completely off in one swift movement. you weren’t wearing a bra underneath, so now your breasts were on full display for him, nipples perking up from the sudden coldness. beomgyu’s lips were on yours in an instant as his hands slid up your waist.

you returned his kiss as you pressed your body to his for some type of warmth. “you could’ve waited until after we ate,” you murmured against beomgyu’s lips. you felt him smile and he guided you back to the bed. “lay down,” beomgyu said, breaking away from you. his finger hooked onto the hem of your underwear, “and take these off.”

your heart was racing as you slid your underwear down and climbed onto beomgyu’s bed. heat pulled at your core as you waited for him to make the next move. beomgyu smirked at you as he slowly pulled his boxers down against his hard bulge. his cock sprang out, causing your eyes to widen a little.

now that your mind was clear for once, you really took in just how big beomgyu’s cock was. pressing your thighs together and shifting on the bed, your face heated at the fact that it was about to be inside you. beomgyu stroked himself a couple times before stepping towards the bed. he climbed overtop of you, causing you to lay down onto your back.

the tip of his cock was rubbing against your clit and it sent shivers through your body. your pussy throbbed even more at the contact. “how could you be so clueless?” beomgyu asked you before his lips captured yours. his hand trailed down to your pussy and his thumb started to rub circles into your clit. you moaned into his mouth, hips rocking upwards, “you should’ve just told me.” your voice was starting to come up breathy as your hips grinded up towards his hand.

beomgyu slipped his fingers inside you, “why didn’t you tell me?” your brain fogged over, small moans escaping your lips as he pumped in and out of you. your wetness made it easy, and the slight squelching sounds set your body on fire. you kissed beomgyu to try and stifle your whimper. “gonna cum,” you breathed out, completely ignoring beomgyu’s question.

you threw your head back into the pillow and beomgyu trailed kisses along your neck as the knot in your stomach tightened. you wrapped your arms around beomgyu’s neck and brought his face to yours as your legs started to tremble, kissing him hard. your hips rolled up as you came around his fingers, breathing heavily as you put your forehead to beomgyu’s.

beomgyu kissed you sweetly for a moment before pulling away to hover over you. he lined his cock with your entrance and slowly slid inside you, brows furrowing. “fuck, baby,” he said as he bottomed out. beomgyu began sliding in and out of you at a decent rate, his head bowed as he watched your cum coat his cock, before picking up his pace.

you cried out as he pressed your thighs to your stomach, using the advantage to fuck into you deeper. “you can take it, baby. i know you can,” beomgyu said before giving you a chaste kiss, a whimper spilling out of his mouth after. he filled you up so much you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. you felt every inch of him, especially the tip of his cock hitting against your sweet spot. it made tears prick your eyes and your teeth to bite down hard on your bottom lip.

“you like that? you like when i fuck into you like that? when i make you feel good?” beomgyu breathed, staring down at your whimpering figure. you squirmed underneath him, eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, “mhm, p-please don’t stop!”

beomgyu sloppily kissed you, slight grunts vibrating against your mouth as he continued fucking you. “it feels so good,” you murmured, trying to grind up into him in any way that you could. beomgyu’s hands gripping your thighs and pinning you to the bed made it impossible. beomgyu moaned, head falling with tightly knitted brows and you felt him twitch inside you.

“mmm, baby you’re gonna make me cum with how fucking tight you are around me,” he said lowly. beomgyu’s voice was so attractive, especially when he lowered it. that it made the rope inside you snap and you came all over his cock, a whimpering mess beneath him. “that’s it, baby. fuck…” beomgyu trailed and his grip on your thighs tightened as he feverishly stroked in and out of your pussy faster.

your nails dug into his shoulders as you cried out again, shallow moans pouring out of you as your back arched off the bed. “t-too much!” you whimpered.

“take it,” beomgyu demanded as he continued his pace. his head fell back and his mouth hung open as you watched his hips roll back and forth through watery eyes.

“shit…” beomgyu said, breathing hard as he came inside you, filling you up even more. his strokes faltered as he rode out his high and you whined loudly underneath him, squirming from your sensitive pussy. beomgyu leaned down and brought his lips to yours to slowly kiss you.

“my baby,” he said airily, pecking your lips before pulling away. you looked at him through hooded eyes and tear stained cheeks, not even registering his words. beomgyu chuckled at you before kissing your cheek and then your neck. “my baby, always so good. i could fuck you for days,” he said against your neck, leaving goosebumps on your skin.

beomgyu leaned back and slowly pulled out of you, a wince on his face. you felt empty without him inside you, without his big cock filling you up to the brim. you felt the cum drip out of you and whimpered slightly. beomgyu laid down onto the bed next to you and pulled you towards him. “my clueless, fucked out baby,” beomgyu laughed as you settled into him. you giggled and pushed at his chest a little, “shut up!” beomgyu pressed a kiss to your forehead as he laughed more.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

permanent taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047

masterlist┊request rules

[yanderefarm]

yandere pornstar

cw; choking, p in v, heterosexuals, nsft, murder, violence against women, dub con, dark content

ive had this one sitting in production for a minute but it's one of the darker ones in my opinion. i think he's so interesting and so fucked in the head. his yandere isn't as explicit in this but that's kinda on purpose. he's obsessed with you but he's good at hiding it especially because he's definitely also battling some internalized homophobia. like he will not examine how badly he wants to be your girlfriend no sir he'll just ask you uncomfortable questions and date women who he thinks are your type. and even then it doesn't matter if you don't like women because he'll just date women who remind him of you.

you live in a nice modern style house. the kind of house you'd usually find belonging to a billionaire who thinks having natural light is a personality trait. never in a million years would you be able to afford this place but a few months ago you'd found this guy looking for a roommate. the rent was dirt cheap, like the kind of dirt cheap that meant this was probably a scam. honestly, even after 3 months living there you were waiting for the rug to get pulled out from under you but as far as you could tell it was real and your roommate was just a nice guy. 

he was a large guy, his chest was broad and he was extremely tall. he was pretty hot too, he had piercings and tattoos and he was always wearing tight obscure rock shirts or horror shirts. personality wise he was a bit of a loud obnoxious guy, he could act like a real frat bro but he was nice? nice enough. the only real quirk about being his roommate was the part about sex. apparently your roommate was in porn and would often record videos in his house. it was like living with a frat bro in effect, he'd have big networking parties and sometimes that turned into big networking orgies. sometimes you would come home to see him and a young woman half naked surrounded by a camera crew. it was weird. but rent was cheap and your room had good noise insulation so you adapted. 

sometimes you would wake up in the morning and go to the kitchen only to find a random woman with messy makeup sitting there checking her phone. the first time it happened you offered to make her some pancakes and she appreciated the gesture. it was an odd morning routine but it was kind of nice making pancakes for your roommate and whatever girl he'd spent the night with so it became the norm. all in all living in this place was odd but comfortable, all it took was getting used to it. you even got used to your roommate's weird personal questions, the way he'd ask you about what kind of porn you liked or what kind of people you were into. it was awkward but you got used to it as just part of his personality.

eventually you started noticing the same girl at the kitchen table over and over again only with progressively more bruises and cuts on her. it's not really your place but you can't help but ask her if she's ok.

"oh! yeah don't worry it's from work."

"what kind of work do you do?"

"wanna see?"

she shows you her only fans account including her most recent post, a scene where she's in a familiar looking room with a masked man choking her out while they have sex. that's definitely your roommate in the video, it was definitely filmed in his room. your body couldn't help but react to the stimulation and you awkwardly excused yourself to eat breakfast. she didn't mind, in fact she said it was a compliment so atleast she was cool about it. still embarrassing.

it doesn't help that at some point she clearly told your roommate who's embarrassing personal questions start to shift. are you into choking? receiving or giving? do you think his girlfriend is hot? is she your type? you have to stop him from showing you more of their videos together because he's just way too eager.

in the end you do shamefully subscribe to her only fans. she's pretty for sure but you're more interested in your roommate and the scenarios they act out. she makes a lot of dark content; things like a kidnapper using her for his own entertainment and threatening to send the video to her parents, or a drunk friend breaking into her room, or a serial killer having fun with her before he kills her. in her older stuff before she started working with your roommate the guys who would bust into her room didn't have the right body type or demeanor to sell it. some of them acted like the cringiest internet doms. for some reason your roommate was so good at it.

you watched his arm flex around her throat while he held her in a headlock, her body bouncing on his lap while he looked at the camera. part of you wondered how good he'd look if he was in her position instead, his big muscles and large dick completely useless as his kidnapper made his eyes roll back. you really shouldn't have those thoughts about your roommate, you know that, but you can't stop fucking your fist to the thought of him. he's straight, nothing will ever come of it.

for the sake of your cheap rent and comfortable room you just pushed your feelings down only letting them out late at night into a bunch of tissues. that's until you come home one night to the living room dark and a tripod set up in front of the couch. that's not such an unusual sight, its not even the first time you've walked in on your roommate in the middle of work. it is the first time you've caught him actually balls deep in someone. he doesn't even take his hands off his throat when he looks at you with a stupid smile.

"hey, welcome home."

you were trying so hard to look anywhere else. "sorry.. uh im-im gonna-"

"oh! hey, babes!" his girlfriend was also smiling at you now.

you were hard. why were you hard. why did he notice that you were hard. you watched his eyes flick from your hard on to your face and back again a wide smile cracking across his face.

"yo, you like what you see? wanna take a ride?"

you don't know how they both actually convinced you to do this, maybe you were hornier than you realized. your roommates large rough hands were stroking your heavy cock while his girlfriend was on her knees in front of you her tongue stuck out to catch every drop of precum. you leaned your head back against his shoulder and moaned as he squeezed your tip. you looked at him for a moment, your face flushing red as he gave you a confident smirk. his girlfriend wrapped her lips around your tip and began licking and sucking trying to drain you of every drop while your roommates hands squeezed your cock so firmly it felt like he was trying to push your cum out. you moaned louder this time, one of your hands gripping onto his forearms to steady yourself.

"baby, you should give him a nice reward for all his donations."

oh god he knew. of course he knew. his girlfriend pulled her mouth off your cock with a wet pop and moved onto her back. your roommate guided you onto your knees in front of her, his breath heavy in your ears.

"you ever do this before buddy?"

all you could do was shake your head, most people probably have never been in this scenario before either.

"gonna make you feel so good. gonna fuck her real nice."

he guided your large cock along her folds, rubbing it against her clit and soaking you in her juices. you watched as he pressed your tip against her hole and pushed it in drawing a loud moan from her. she was definitely a pornstar the way she reacted and played up your cock filling her, moans and arching her back and tightening her cunt. it felt good but you soon came to miss the feeling of your roommate's hands squeezing you as they instead moved to help guide your hips. he kept you at a fast pace until you were the one maintaining it yourself, hips drilling into her as hard and fast as you could.

"why haven't you cum yet? you like it don't you?" he grunted in annoyance. "here let's tighten her up, huh?"

he moved his hands over your own and wrapped them around her neck. it took you a moment to notice and you immediately tried to squirm and pull away.

"you know how much she likes it"

"mmmhmmm~ c'mon babes.. make me see stars..."

his hands squeezed around your own forcing you to choke her as your hips began to slow down a bit. you didn't know what you were doing, this seemed incredibly unsafe but his hands were stronger than yours. her pussy squeezed around you but the stimulation wasn't enough to keep you hard as your panic was more overwhelming. your hips stopped entirely when her face started to get red.

"stop! pl-please i want to stop!"

"i'll stop when she makes you cum."

you knew that wasn't going to happen but you didn't know what else to do. your hips picked up a frantic desperate pace as you tried so hard to feel good. there were tears splashing onto her reddening face as you began to cry and babble your apologies as best you could.

her eyes started to roll back and you still hadn't gotten any closer to cumming so with an annoyed huff your roommate pulled your hands off of her. she sucked in a gasp of air her entire body heaving as she could finally breathed. your roommate moved away from you letting you pull out and you crawled over away from them, sobbing.

"tch... guess you didn't like her that much huh?"

you couldn't speak just whimpering and rubbing your hands.

"poor guy..."

he easily lifted you in his arms and carried you to your bed. you thought he said something else but you didn't catch it as your body started to relax. you managed a small thank you before his figure disappeared.

you expected it to just be a weird story and an awkward breakfast but she never came to sit in the kitchen. you had finished making all the pancakes when the front door opened and your roommate walked in looking dour. he stopped when he looked at you, looking away from you then back.

he took a deep breath. "... she's dead."

your eyes widened and you felt your stomach churn.

"last night i brought her back to my room but she wasn't feeling well and i thought she was just tired... when i woke up she wasn't breathing."

you covered your mouth with your hand as tears flooded your vision. you moved to get your phone when your roommate grabbed your hand tight enough to hurt.

"you get it right? you killed her." you were forced to drop your phone which cracked on the tile. "i hid the body, made sure no one will ever know. I'm willing to help you cause you're my friend but you gotta be good."

you couldn't speak all you could do was slowly nod.

"thats a good boy."

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you make jungkook’s world spin and you tend to… make him a little too dizzy.

> idol!jungkook x reader / est. relationship, fluff, angst / word count: 7k

> content/warnings: yea shirtless jungkook should be a warning… one (1) spank then he kisses it better, also gives a kiss to that lil bow on oc’s undies >:( + a flashback of oc crying and him getting stressed out bcs oc is a careless brat fr

> in which masterlist!

note: hehe i’m here <3 this drabble is basically just oc in a mood and jungkook being the sweetest bf ever 🤨 idk how it got this long either heh it didn’t feel that way at all while i wrote-edited? but i hope u enjoy and i’d love to hear ur thoughts 🥺 reblogs/feedback are appreciated !! <3

—

“oh my god- fuck!”

you cover your mouth in shock, squeezing your eyes shut and flinching at the ear-splitting sound that bounces off the walls of the apartment.

jungkook is rendered frozen, eyebrows furrowed and jaw slacked, staring down at his shirt largely stained by the chocolate milk you were walking around with after brunch.

“damn…”

his eyes are irritable when they communicate with yours.

“baby! really? did it have to be the white one?”

but seconds later, they become worried and calculating — wandering all over the tiled floor, and then your bare feet infront of his slides-clad ones, surrounded by shattered pieces of ceramic.

the collateral damage. an unforeseen tragedy.

suffice to say, jungkook woke up this morning blissfully unaware of the turbulent storm threatening to make a playground out of your mind. it’s craving to feed destruction, and here he is living with you under the same roof, an unfortunate casualty from your antics.

the hand-painted mug, wet from the condensation, slipped away from your hands when you accidentally collided with his tough build at the intersection of the living room and the kitchen. this… wasn’t part of the plan. the plan was a little spill and this is a landslide.

“that was expensive too.” you utter wistfully, chest deflating as you release an exasperated breath. “sorry. i’ll clean up everything. just stay there and i’ll- when did i last see the broom-”

his doe eyes grow two times its size when you start looking around the apartment in search of the broom, and perhaps something you can use to pat yourself and jungkook dry, causing your feet to unconsciously shift on the treacherous ground.

“ba-baby! don’t move! you’re going to hurt yourself. are you crazy?” he interrupts you with a hiss, voice stern as his hands curl around your arms to hold you steady. “it’s okay. this is nothing, i’m not mad… just stay still, understand?”

you nod slowly as he lets go, eyebrows knitting together to convey confusion when he starts pulling his shirt over his head, revealing miles of bare skin and planes of defined muscles on a perfect silhouette. perfect because it’s jungkook.

alright… to see him half-naked wasn’t one of your intentions, but you’re definitely not one to complain.

“tsk, i think i need to shower again.”

figuring that the internet has a solution to every problem one could think of, jungkook has decided to accept the horror that has happened to his shirt. what was it again? salt? vinegar? baking soda? powder? fuck it, he’ll search for it later.

he throws caution to the wind by using it to wipe his damp torso, brushing it over his tan skin glistening with a sheen of the liquid that you wittingly spilled. he winces at the uncomfortable stickiness that could be felt across his stomach, but he can’t help but to laugh when he sees how it further accentuated his abs.

and if only you were in a chipper mood today, you would be laughing along with him. would’ve taken over cleaning him up, apologized with a kiss on his waist. too bad you’re not.

eventually, he gives up on erasing on the feeling, proceeding to fold the shirt in halves.

“what are you doing?” you snap, putting on a guise of harsher irritation over your dreamy stares at your boyfriend’s glorious physique. “are we just supposed to stand here forever like idiots?”

“what is this? why are you so grumpy today?” he questions with a frown, patting your cheek with the soft cottony fabric because the splash managed to reach your face unbeknownst to you.

and then he bends down to place the folded shirt infront of your feet, looking up to you with his galaxy-filled eyes to say, “here- come on. stand here while i clean up.”

you stand isolated on the safe zone he created, childishly pouting with your arms crossed over chest as you wait for him to pick up your slippers in the bedroom.

the simple answer to jungkook’s question is you’re bored and in a bad mood. the more complex answer would be you came up with a one-man game you can only win if you successfully piss your boyfriend off, but you’re too scared to pull off anything that will legitimately make him upset with you.

because the last time you made him angry, it hasn’t been… that long ago. he’s been keeping a closer eye on you since then, and you’ve been trying to be good. keyword being trying. after all, you did lost his car key… at a beach three hours away from home. you searched the entire shore — retraced your steps, made your knees and palms bleed digging through the rocky sand, curled up by the waves to wallow in self-blame and the smell of salt-air defeat. you were nearly in tears as you listened to the call ring for what felt like an eternity, unsure if he already wrapped up the company meeting he mentioned to you the day before.

you still remember the desperate words you greeted him with instead of ‘hello’.

“babe, promise me you won’t be mad.”

—

“____, you didn’t even tell me you were coming here! care to explain that to me first? huh?”

your name, and not ‘baby’? heavens above have mercy; you’re fucked.

jungkook presses the heels of his palms over his eyes to alleviate the dull throbbing of his head, breathing heavily to compose himself, but he can’t disguise the frustration deeply embedded in his voice.

“you scared me!”

not yelling, but tone evidently very upset with you. somehow, that makes you feel worse.

“i had to make up an excuse infront of everyone and drive here fast. i was so worried of you being here all alone when it gets dark!”

“it’s your car so i thought i had to let you know right away. i’m sorry.” you chew at your bottom lip anxiously, eyes brimming with tears as you barely muster up the courage to observe how he’s handling this.

your heart pounds louder in your chest when he finally looks down at you, guilty and gloomy, sat on a wooden bench painted yellow. it drops to your stomach when you see the sullen expression painting his face a light shade of red.

“where did you lose it?”

you open your mouth, but no words come out. you can only manage to point at the shore with your disoriented eyes, and he traces the direction with his. the majestic orange sky where the sun descends below the horizon fails to be recognized by your foggy, distracted minds.

it’s silent for a few beats, then he huffs, breathing out a sarcastic chuckle before burying his face in hands.

“baby, please. please. are you sure you’re not pranking me right now?”

“no! do you think i’d joke like this? i really tried my best to find it!” you sniffle, roughly wiping away the lone tear that escapes your eye. you’re almost too humiliated to continue talking, volume falling a few notches above a whisper. “but the waves were getting stronger.”

he vehemently shakes his head, rendered speechless and stuttering, malfunctioning. he doesn’t think he has ever imagined this type of scenario before. “this is crazy. really… this is unbelievable… how did this even happen?”

he exhales loudly before removing his hands, revealing a calmer exterior. be that as it may, his skin is more flushed, all the way to his ears and down to his neck, where his veins have become noticeably prominent.

“i mean, what else can we do about it? i’ll request for a new one.”

“but are we just going to leave the car here?”

“did you leave anything in there?”

“i left my bag, but…” you pat the pockets of your skirt to check if your valuables didn’t meet the same fate as the car key. “i brought my phone and wallet with me.”

he nods. “then i’ll call a towing service.”

you pout.

“it’s such a bother.”

feeling exhausted after burning a concerning amount of energy in search of the missing item, you stand on wobbly feet to loop your arms around his waist.

maybe it’s to coax him into forgiving you. maybe it’s to make yourself feel better, nuzzle your face on his chest to drive away the anxiety weighing on your shoulders. but as it’s being lifted off, so is the barrier withholding your salty tears.

“i’m so careless. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i should’ve drove my car instead.”

“ye- no, that’s not…” he cuts himself off with a sigh.

he puts an arm around you, pushing his hair back and repeatedly carding his fingers through it out of habit.

“seriously, baby… you stress me out so much, do you know that? you’re always wandering around places you’re not familiar with… this is secluded. it’s dangerous. you could get hurt if you bump into the wrong people… really, i’m just relieved it’s not yourself that you lost this time!”

the recollection of old flashbacks playing in his mind like a movie reel elicits a throaty chuckle from him, low and rough, the vibrations of his chest rudely awakening the butterflies in your stomach.

“you couldn’t even send me a text. you didn’t turn on your location. i would’ve lost my fucking mind again… did you even thought of that? or is that what you wanted, huh? baby? you enjoy driving me crazy like this?”

and the confession tucked inside his scolding obliterates any coherent thoughts in your head, causing you to lose control of your whirlwind of emotions.

“this isn’t fair. you said you won’t be mad.” you wail out in response, tears fiercely leaking from your eyes akin to a rainstorm. “i didn’t know this would happen!”

he clicks his tongue, gingerly caressing your wet cheeks with his thumb, then with the rest of his fingers, and the paw of his jacket, because the streams just seem to have no plans of ceasing. his wide eyes worriedly scans your tear-stained face, heart squeezed painfully by the restrained sobs forcefully ripping themselves from your throat.

“shhh, shh. don’t cry- don’t cry. i’m not mad, i was just worried about you.”

“jungkook, you’re lying.” you whine. “don’t lie to me. i don’t like it.”

he slowly blinks at you, head hanging low as to compose his thoughts before he reconnects with your eyes. a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips before his tongue unconsciously sweeps over them, its tip catching the silver ring piercing through his skin to play with it.

a moment of silence, thick with restlessness and anticipation, harder to breathe with the unique smell of the salt-air entering and leaving your lungs.

you feel small under his stoic gaze. you want to sit back down and cry harder.

your boyfriend is mad. your boyfriend is infuriatingly hot even when he’s disappointed in you. you need to dig a hole in the sand and live there forever. after everything, these are the only thoughts left running in your head.

“okay, fine. you lost the key of our car in the ocean, ____. but what if someone already found it by chance?” he cocks his head to the side, briefly peering at the road behind you.

he knows that it’s no use. even if he does see the white jeep wheeling by, is he supposed to assume that he can outrun it by some heaven-granted miracle?

“what then? hm…? what else can we do? i guess it could be getting stolen right now and we don’t even know. you parked so far away.”

god, please, not your favorite car.

“it’s not only the car. i still have important documents left in the compartment too.” this only dawns on him now, judging by the look of distress written on his face. he suddenly slaps his thigh, and you flinch a little. “fuck! i should’ve cleaned sooner!”

“then you are mad.” you arrive at a conclusion, chin wobbling as you sniffle. “about a lot of things.”

you resist the urge to stomp your feet. you want to throw a tantrum so bad. tell him that he shouldn’t be keeping such things in the car in the first place, that he owns a safe for fuck’s sake, but you know you can’t get away with shifting the blame because you messed up horribly in comparison.

“i get it. i’m sorry… i take full responsibility this time.”

“shit, baby.” he deeply sighs.

it becomes quiet again. he just looks at your face with knitted eyebrows, not saying anything more, and you try your best to cut off your crying, not to act conscious, but your eyes still fall on the sand. they stay there for a few beats to avoid the intensity of his gaze.

he almost sounds pained when he finally speaks. “how can i stay mad at you when you’re crying?”

he tilts up your chin, and your glassy eyes, sparkling with a new wave of tears, look at him beseechingly.

the setting sun. an eternal witness to a brand new day of humans being humans. it kisses your skin with its golden light, bathing your figure to radiate an angelic glow that drives him to consider once more that you could just be an enchanting character across dreams and the year is still 2017.

you sniffle again, brushing off his hand. sometimes you despise that jungkook brings out messiest, most unstable side of you. you know that he practically signed up for this, and he will always love you the same, love you even more. but that doesn’t take away the fact that you’re so embarrassed.

“but i’m not crying just to make you feel bad, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“yah, that wasn’t what i meant?” he frowns, eyes softening at your reply. “of course. i know that.”

the cracks in your voice, he seals with a soft kiss on your lips, tender and swollen caused by the onslaught of your sharp teeth.

“anyway, i can take care of replacing it. i mean, it’s not like it can get stolen just like that, right…?”

he sounds rather nervous convincing the both of you.

“but i’m most worried about you. i can lose everything but you.” his tattooed arm pulls you closer, casting aside the tension by leaving not even an inch of space between your bodies. he tenderly rubs your back to console you, and another kiss is granted to your temple, his soothing voice slightly muffled as his lips stay glued to you. “did i make you cry? i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry… it’s okay. things like this can happen.”

“no, i’m sorry.” you aggressively shake your head and he carries on with wiping your cheeks, the back of his hand brushing off the tears that drip across your chin. he dries his hand on the hem of his jacket only to get it wet all over again.

“let’s just learn from this and move on. promise me that you’ll be more careful next time, okay? you can do that, right?”

jungkook does scold you every now and then, but although you stress him out, he would hate it if he’s not the first person you call when you’re in trouble. he would hate it if you act nonchalant and secretly cry when you’re hurt. but most of all, he can’t imagine a life in which you don’t make his world spin, much as he tends to get too dizzy at times.

your defiant hum makes his tense shoulders drop in disappointment.

“there should be a bus stop somewhere, i’ll just go home on my own. i don’t want to keep stressing you out.”

you will yourself to break free from his embrace, dragging yourself away to leave behind a trail of footprints in the sand, and he knows he’ll be running after you today, too.

“oh? you better stop right there!” he warns with a hand over his hip.

you become smaller and smaller in his eyes with every tick of the clock, much like how the sun is gradually getting swallowed by the ocean.

“i’ll get angry for real if you disappear from my sight. really, i’m not joking!”

angry? what a joke. you know that he’d cry blood searching for you if you get lost.

“oh? you’re really not going to stop?!”

jungkook’s voice fall on deaf ears, except that of the dog leashed to a tree that stands infront of a humble home. it seethingly barks at him from many meters away.

“fucking shit. i need alcohol.” he chuckles to himself, rubbing his tired eyes. “____, i swear, you’re getting too stubborn these days. what should i do with you?”

but you’re too far away to hear him, and so, he answers himself.

“eh, it is what it is.”

the wind blows with a quiet whistle, deadly as it fuels the roaring waves.

“AH! nuh-uh!” he exclaims, jaw dropping in alarm when he sees an urgent reason to chase after you, putting those leg days at the gym to good use.

you jump, a squeak leaving your mouth when out of nowhere, a solicitous palm smooths over your behind, sliding down to the back of your thighs to hold down your rippling skirt.

but you’re determined to be unyielding, eyes shooting daggers at jungkook. “leave me alone. i can do it myself.”

“baby, isn’t that a little rude? is that how you say ‘thank you’?”

“thank you. now let’s go our separate ways.”

and just like that, you’re walking away again.

“shit.” he curses quietly through gritted teeth, pulling at his hair. “babe, please come back… i’m sorry! i didn’t mean that!”

—

“jungkook! how many times do i need to tell you to turn off faucet properly?!”

you’re hot on jungkook’s tail as he makes his way to the laundry room beside the kitchen, carrying a laundry basket over his hip. he’s still shirtless, only clad in a different pair of shorts after a quick shower.

“the bathroom sink was close to overflowing! again!”

“i know what you’re doing.”

“what? what am i doing?”

the basket touches the ground, standing beside the dryer, and then he turns to face you, eyebrows shooting up. “picking a fight with me won’t work today.”

“why?” your tone borders on a whine.

“what do you mean ‘why’?” he laughs in jest. “why? why do you want to fight with me so bad?”

“i don’t know.” you exhale loudly, rolling your eyes and shrugging. “just because!”

“well, that’s not very convincing, is it?” he teases you with a grin, proceeding to open the dryer to dump the fresh laundry in the basket. the clothes you wore in the past week once again soaked up the sweet, floral scent the people around you distinctly recognizes to be your own and jungkook’s.

“i know, but i’m done playing now. you’re not hearing me.” you close your eyes in frustration, recounting the other times you had to say these exact words. “you’re going to flood our house.”

“okay, okay. i won’t forget to double-check it from now on. i promise.”

“sure, that’s what you also said last time.” you indignantly scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “i’m not turning it off for you anymore. if we get flooded, i’m leaving you. i’m moving out.”

your threat puts a halt to his movements for a split second before he’s adorably replying in a sing-song voice. “then i’m going with you.”

“no, you’re not.”

and it doesn’t come as a shock to you that jungkook doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“huh! good luck trying to stop me.” he slams the door of the dryer shut, standing up straight. “it’s not easy getting rid of me. you know that.”

he walks to the middle of the room to get a good view of you at the entrance. with the other resting on his hip, he lies his palm flat over the counter, outstretched arm cascading with varied colors of ink in sharp lines and swirling curves.

fuck, he has to know what he’s doing — flexing his muscles like that, not playing fair.

“aigoo, look at you glaring at me. you want to fight?”

and you’d feel intimidated by his challenging stare, the quirk of his eyebrow, his teeth sinking on his bottom lip… only if he didn’t blink to rake a stare over your body, lingering on your smooth legs that couldn’t be covered by your mere underwear. only if they didn’t flicker back to your face, and only if he didn’t smirk like a lovesick fool.

“so cute.” he chuckles. “you’re totally my type.”

“shut up.” you roll your eyes at the random compliment. “i know, i already get that a lot.”

his smile then fades, not so thrilled with the reminder that it’s so easy to fall in love with you, and therefore anyone would die to take his place. he knows that they hover around you like moths to a flame when he’s not there. well, he really can’t blame them, can he? you’re so fucking attractive.

“what does that mean…? who else is saying it, huh? tell me. i think i have a few guesses.”

“does it matter?” you stare at him blankly, which then turns into a piercing glare. “jungkook! i was just talking about you not paying enough attention. look at you proving me right!”

the stomp of your feet on the floor tells him that you’ve reached a level of frustration near to inducing a flood of tears.

oh, he truly got called out, huh?

“i’m sorry- i’m sorry. i admit that. i’m sorry, my love. i was just joking around. i’m listening well now.” he winces guiltily, beckoning you to be where he is. “come here then.”

“i don’t want to.” you stay rooted in your spot. “who do you think you are?”

“m-me…? i’m your boyfriend. boyfriend!” he points at himself, index finger repeatedly poking his bare chest to emphasize his point. his arm then drops to his side. his doe eyes widen as he breathes out a sigh of disbelief. “oh, i’m really getting upset now?”

you bite back a smile. the sweet taste of victory.

you can’t be the only one, can you?

“aish, i see you’re having your way again.” he chuckles, taking it upon himself to cross the distance between you. his hands find purchase on the curves of your waist, and every nerve in your body turns into a live wire. “let’s just go out today. do you want to practice boxing at the gym with me?”

didn’t he just watch you do arms day this morning? does he think you have the same stamina as him? you make a face of disapproval and shake your head.

“shall we go to a rage room again then? break more stuff?” he playfully sticks his tongue out, and you glare once more.

for the record, you loved that mug.

“boring.”

“and fighting with me is fun?”

you purse your lips into a thin line. “well, it’s not boring.”

“of course.” he laughs, softly squeezing your waist, pads of his thumbs mindlessly tracing shapes over the fabric of your top.

all of a sudden, he’s tugging you closer to envelope you in his embrace, voice slightly muffled as he sweetly talks. “are you mad at me for real? i’m sorry. sorry, sorry, sorry. sorry. i’ll really be more mindful of the things you remind me about, i swear… i don’t like fighting. it breaks my heart when you cry.”

what is this five foot ten man with bulging biceps, tattoo sleeve, and piercings doing here in the crook of your neck — affectionately nuzzling his face on your skin and telling you in a baby voice that he doesn’t like fighting?

you don’t know, but you feel good.

and his bare body is so comfortingly soft and warm.

he draws back for a kiss but his nose and lips only graze your cheek when you turn away, and you don’t see the sadness that flashes across his face.

“so what i’m hearing is… you don’t like fighting with me because i’m too sensitive? is that the truth?”

“no!” he perks up to interject without hesitation, shaking his head. “but i don’t think that’s a bad thing anyway… being sensitive.”

but you admit being a crybaby. you cry when you’re angry.

that’s when jungkook distinguishes the glint of mischief swimming in your irises. he feels dizzy after having his heart drop to his stomach.

“no. no, no.”

his mirthful grin returns, revealing his perfect set of teeth.

“ahh, i’m stressed!” he closes his eyes, throwing his head back, chest puffing up when he breathes in then out. “i knew it. no, i’m not falling for this trap!”

then he flees the room carrying the laundry basket, leaving you doubled over and covering your mouth to silence your giggles of amusement.

“i’m hanging the laundry now!”

“how dare you walk away from me?!”

“you can’t follow me!”

“i’m not.” you scoff, purposely bumping your hips against his. “i’ll vacuum the living room.”

—

“where are you going? gym?” you genuinely begin to sulk, watching your boyfriend slide into a baggy pair of bleached denim pants. “are you leaving me here?”

he avoids your inquiring eyes, ignoring you as he pulls up his zipper and does the button. you pout when he walks further away to pull out a black shirt from the clothing rack.

“is that it? are you tired of me already?”

he tosses its hanger in the basket where you discard the empty ones before wearing the final piece of clothing, covering himself fully for the first time today.

you sigh, feeling dejected. “you don’t love me anymore?”

and jungkook needs to physically restrain himself so he won’t grab your face and say ‘i love you’ over and over again until he runs out of breath.

you leave the closet to follow him to the bedroom, where he sits on the edge of the mattress to put on his socks.

you stand by him, patience quickly running thin. “hello?”

he brushes away the non-existent dirt on the left sock before switching his legs to put on the right one.

“did i turn invisible?”

your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. this isn’t how fighting works. you need a reaction at the very least.

you tug at the sleeve of his shirt, starting to get annoyed, already planning your exit if he continues this act. “you’re hurting my feelings. you’re not even going to look at me?”

he mumbles, and you almost fail to piece his phrase together. “can’t, you’re too pretty.”

his big brown eyes faintly glimmer with hope when he looks up at you, puckering his rose-tinted lips and making kissing sounds.

your sweet and clingy boyfriend, he’s making this too difficult.

a tsunami of affection washes over you, and it becomes impossible for you not to crack at his cheekiness then. “jungkook, you’re impossible!”

atleast he tried to shoot his shot.

“tsk, see? i thought so!” he grumbles, snapping the elastic band on his ankle. “just want one kiss.”

he disappears into the closet again.

he returns not a minute later, unceremoniously placing a white bucket hat on your head before tugging it down to obstruct your vision.

“hey!”

you hastily take it off, scowling at your laughing boyfriend who turns out to be already wearing a black bucket hat of his own.

“you’re bored, aren’t you? let’s go out, have some sun.”

“no.”

you reply exactly as your boyfriend predicted you would.

jungkook captures your wrist to slip his credit card on your palm, folding your fingers over it, but they aren’t enough to hide the black rectangular thing you can use to buy the world with if you wanted to. your amusement spills out as giggles, brighter as he pushes your hand to your chest so you have no other choice but to accept it.

he scrunches his nose, face only inches away from yours as he persuades you with his natural charm. “what if we go shopping, hmm?”

“thanks babe, but i can’t think of anything i want right now.” you sniffle with teary eyes, flipping the card and holding it between your longest fingers as muscle memory takes control.

“then just keep it incase you see something you want.”

he kneels on the floor out of the blue, and you eye him curiously, your fingers automatically tangling with his silky locks before making a loose fist.

“here, put some pants on. hurry-” he presents your pair of faded gray cargo pants.

you tug at his hair lightly, which prompts him to lift his head. you scrunch your nose cutely, giggling. “i’m spoiled.”

“ey, so what if you are?” he brushes off your observation with his satoori accent, blithe tone listing down reasons. “i love you. i worked hard so i can do these things for you. we moved in together so we can take care of each other.”

and you want to cry. you truly do. your face began to feel warm after he said that he loves you, but the tears never make it past your lash line when his big palm lands a loud smack on your ass, skin-to skin.

“but i do think that you are a brat. does that count for something?”

it catches you by surprise, and a scandalized gasp escapes your mouth as you feel the sting spreading across your skin.

“shut up! give that to me.” you roll your eyes, stealing the pants from his grasp.

“see, that’s what i’m talking about.” he chuckles lightheartedly. “get dressed then.”

his fingers dig in the soft flesh of your thighs when he pulls you closer to kiss the tiny little ribbon on your underwear, heart-shaped lips pressed to you so firmly you can trace their outline bleeding through the thin fabric and onto your skin. “mmm-mwah!”

and then you feel them there next, where it still hurts, a softer kiss in comparison to soothe the sting he left behind.

your heart is beating so loud you can feel it in your throat, feeble knees nearly giving away to crash and break.

who does that so casually? who the hell does that?

oh, right… jungkook. of course.

you raise the white flag today.

perhaps he will flood the apartment tomorrow, and you can stay angry longer then.

—

“what’s taking him so long?” you mutter absentmindedly to yourself, lost eyes scanning the park in hopes of getting a glimpse of your boyfriend and his classic jungkook outfit, but he’s still nowhere to be seen.

your sour mood makes a reappearance.

to your credit, taking you out and then asking you to wait here without telling you where he’s going is rude, and you’re lonely and jealous of the couples around you having a picnic. not to mention that the clouds have uncovered the sun and you’re burning.

this scene also leads your brain to wander to those cliche flashbacks in a film or a show where a parent lies to their child that they’ll come back, and then they doesn’t. it’s always, always at some sort of park.

oh, for fuck’s sake, why are you wasting your time giving this a lot of thought?

too bored and antsy to sit still, you finally decide to text jungkook.

to: my baby love

i'm gonna look for food. do you want anything?

orrr is that what you're away buying 😥

WHERE ARE YOU

why didn't you just take me with youuuu

?

please me lonely :(

[sent 1 photo]

a black cat !! is sleeping on my shoes!! 😭

i miss you :(

are you almost done

i hate u

whatever i'm going. call if you still remember that you're someone's bf i guess.

—

jungkook crosses the street like an excited puppy, long pretty hair bouncing as he practically skips his way to the area where he left you to wait.

only to be greeted by a complete stranger.

his radiant beam fades into a hue of confusion.

the bench is now occupied by a woman chugging an energy drink after running laps around the park.

they lock eyes for a split second. he averts his befuddled stare to pretend that nothing happened, walking past her with a bouquet of sunflowers until he settles down two benches away.

he wears his bucket hat again only for him to throw it aside with a sigh, messing with his hair to release his frustration. of course you left. he can only snort to himself while he reads the last message you sent. you’re so cute. he knows you’ve never been keen on having to wait, but he didn’t expect himself to take so long either.

not wanting you to be upset with him another second longer, he instantly decides to call you.

his forehead creases when his phone vibrates, informing him that he typed an incorrect password. he tries again, slow and deliberate, only for the same thing to happen, and he begins to feel nervous.

what the fuck?

okay, calm down, JK. one more time.

he freezes as the same words flash on the screen. his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he feels the irritation bubbling up inside of him.

“why is it like this…? what’s your problem? what am i touching wrong?”

—

you return to the park more carefree than before. since jungkook is god knows where, you decided to have a picnic on your own. you had to buy a new picnic blanket, though. you can’t get the one in the car because he has the key. but just to be petty, you hope that he figured it out from the text notifications he got when you used his card.

oh, there he is looking angrily at his phone.

you halt on your tracks, instantly pulling the brakes on your feet when you recognize your boyfriend from your peripheral vision. you slowly chew the remaining tteokbokki in your mouth.

he’s holding his phone… and he hasn’t called you yet?

“wow, did you seriously forgot about me?”

upon hearing your familiar voice, jungkook’s features soften, not having to squint at the sunlight either because you’ve kindly blocked it with your back.

“where did you even go? i didn’t see you!”

the password-protected device that’s been giving him a headache for the past ten minutes is abandoned in the depths of his pocket.

“baby,” he utters airily as he stands on his feet, reaching out to hold your forearm. “i’m sorry. i took so long, didn’t i…? i went to buy you flowers but they didn’t have tulips anywhere. anywhere. every shop said someone bought all of them!”

he scratches his head with a sheepish grin, revealing the bouquet he’s been concealing behind him.

“i got you sunflowers instead… they-” he points at them, eyes flickering on the bundle of yellow flowers he’s offering as a gift. “they’re not bad. i think they’re pretty too. you like them too, right?”

sunflowers are pretty. after all, it used to be your favorite in middle school, mostly because it’s the first flower you received from an admirer… it was for your birthday and you felt like you died when it withered, heavily on-brand for a young heart drawn to romance. excluding that, everything has changed. it’s a typical saturday and beads of sweat have formed on your lover’s forehead after running around under the sun. you think you can keep them alive longer this time around.

“i like you the most.”

and then he receives his gift in return, that particularly sweet smile of yours he only sees when you’re so giddy.

his heart flutters wildly at your following actions.

“kiss.” you adorably demand, copying his pout earlier when he was asking for a kiss.

but unlike you who left his wish ungranted, he crosses the distance to plant a kiss on your lips. he pulls away a mere three inches, muttering to confront you. “but i thought you hated me?”

“who said that? that wasn’t me.” you feign ignorance, eyes so wide as to mimic being confused. you carefully take the flowers into your embrace, subtly exchanging it with the paper bowl you’re holding. “thank you, baby… here, do you want tteokbokki?”

he goes for the fish cake first, poking it with the stick and popping it in his mouth. you find yourself too absorbed in admiring the sunflowers one by one to sense your boyfriend staring at you, thinking to himself, you’re always worth the effort and this overpriced tteokbokki is pretty damn good.

“i turned on my location like i promised i would. did you see?” you mention without looking at him, acting laidback, still too shy when anything related to the incident is brought up.

he awkwardly smiles. no, he didn’t, unfortunately. he’s still fucking locked out of his phone.

you whimper when he pinches your cheek. “good job, baby.”

—

jungkook removes his head on your stomach to lie down beside you on the red picnic blanket. his hair touches his face and he tucks them behind his ears for the millionth time today.

“will you type my password for me?”

you take his phone without question, putting yours over your chest for the meantime. you successfully unlock it within a second, experienced fingers nimble after years of typing on the daily.

“here.” you hold it out for him without looking, picking up your own phone to continue scrolling through trending topics. however, seconds pass and the heavy weight on your hand has yet to be eased, so you wiggle it to catch his attention. “hey, it’s done.”

he gasps, gaping at you in bewilderment. “how did you do that?”

“you changed it again last night, remember? because i told you our anniversary isn’t a good idea.”

shit, right. he added a new one to the list of passwords that he uses for everything. he totally forgot about that. you’ve taken over every working brain cell that he has in his body.

“baby, this is your fault!” he groans, finally snatching away his phone. “ah- i wanted to throw it away. i didn’t know what was wrong with it. i was seriously so close to crying!”

that bad? was he about to get all his data wiped out? your poor baby. you laugh out loud at his reaction, belly aching as you roll over to wrap your arm around his waist and bury your face on his side.

“anyone can guess it if they try hard enough.”

“but that was the trick, you know? they’d think it’s too easy. they wouldn’t even consider it!”

“that doesn’t mean they won’t try it!”

“ah, i don’t care. i’m changing it back.” he stubbornly pouts, falling back on the blanket.

you want to cuddle. he feels a tug on the sleeve of his shirt and he immediately understands. he allows you to use his tattooed arm as a pillow. it envelopes you entirely when he reaches for his phone to type with both hands, and you automatically snuggle with him closer by resting your head on his chest.

“fine. do what you want, you dummy. you better not leave your phone lying around.” you mutter, heavy eyelids fluttering shut as the wind blows to softly caress your face. “and don’t take more pictures of me sleeping.”

“you’re sleeping? i thought we’re going to the mall.”

“we are. i’m letting you rest before you carry shopping bags.”

“ah- wow. thanks, baby.”

you don’t how much time passes, a minute or ten or more, but falling into a deep sleep proves to be impossible with the cacophony of sounds you’re surrounded with. you’re resting somewhere away from the crowd, but there’s still the hiphop music from a bluetooth speaker, honking of vehicles… and the main culprit, jeon jungkook scrolling through tiktok on your phone and bookmarking videos for you to watch later on. you can hear his giggles louder than his heartbeat, feel them make his body vibrate throughout.

so, you give up. you open your blurry eyes with a tired sigh, blinking to readjust to the brightness. he feels your movements, your nose brushing against his neck, and he squeezes you to his side, dutifully stroking your head to remind you that you’re safe despite being in a public place because you’re with him. you kiss his cheek to show your appreciation.

you end up harmonizing with his giggles when you do decide to join him, nearly tearing up at the sight of a cat riding a motorcycle toy on the screen. a little while later, your fascination is then stolen by fiddling with his tattooed hand — tracing the veins, the lines, the tattoos; pressing the faded heart like it’s a button connected to the beating one in his ribcage; grazing the rough areas of his palm calloused by lifting heavy weights.

and as you do so, you mull over the house by the sea you’re saving up for. how much longer will it take? should you check out more locations? do you tell jungkook? that it’s your back-up plan, a place where no one knows your name, just like how this city once was. it’s where you would run to, where you would build a new life if the time comes that this one falls apart, too. if not, if not, if not, would it be so bad to wake up beside you with an ocean view when he’s sixty?

fuck, you don’t know anymore. it shouldn’t be this hard— not anticipating the worst, but still being prepared for it. you despise being an adult.

you do it absentmindedly, taking off one of your silver rings and slipping it into each of his fingers to see where it would fit best… he knows you’re only entertaining yourself, but feeling it in his ring finger still puts a lump in his throat.

“are you proposing to me?”

“this is your right hand, silly.” you tease your stunned boyfriend, sticking your tongue out. “if you want me, come and get me.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[seijorhi]

Violent Delights

for my very dearest best friend (wife) @iwaasfairy i'm sorry it's super late, but august and april both start with 'a' which basically means they're the same month <33 iwaizumi hajime x female reader w.c 4.4k tw: yandere themes, non-con, drugged reader, blood/gore, murder, incest, sorta smut (nsfw)

M I N E

It’s funny in a way. Amidst the wreckage, the blood, what was left of your friends and the cooling puddle of cum splattered across your naked stomach, four letters carved into your bedroom wall seemed almost… harmless. Or at least the easiest to digest. Fixate on.

The detective asked about your ex partners, the dates you’d been on recently, whether or not you’d noticed anyone in your day-to-day paying you too much attention, if anyone made you feel uncomfortable, or said anything that seemed out of place.

But your exes don’t care enough to kill, and the two dates you’ve been on in the last six months never bothered to text you back. No one’s left weird, unsettling gifts, or stared too long in line at the coffee shop. There’s nothing. No precursor or warning, no giant red flag waving in front of you.

Mine. 

Hovering on the edge of numbness, blind hysteria just out of reach, you stare at the beige walls of the hotel room they’d put you up in, the angry gouges flickering in and out of existence with every blink. 

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

Kaori was the one obsessed with all the true crime stuff. She’d be the first to tell you psychopaths and nutjobs – they don’t jump straight into drugging and triple homicide. There’s a pattern of behaviour. Escalation. 

Something you missed. 

Then again, considering it’s her blood still caked under your fingernails, there’s a strong possibility she wouldn’t be all that enthusiastic about the whole thing to begin with. 

You need a shower, a proper one – not the glorified sponging off they’d given you at the hospital. Enough to get you out the door, not nearly enough to scrub away the grime and rid yourself of what he did to you–

The others had it worse. You survived. He barely touched you.

Mine. 

The thought of scalding water, of scrubbing yourself raw does hold a certain appeal, yet hunched over atop starched white sheets, those same bloody fingernails sink into the flesh of your arms instead, grounding you in the tiny bite of pain. 

Minutes tick past and you don’t so much as twitch. Not until a sharp knock sounds at the door and a gruff voice calls out your name. 

You wait half a beat, but when nothing more is forthcoming, you slowly edge yourself off the bed, making your way to the door. Through the peephole you spy a dark haired officer, different to the one who’d dropped you off, staring back at you. 

They did tell you there’d be an officer with you the whole time, at least for the next twenty four hours. 

“Miss?” he calls again, and you distantly realise that while your hand is poised over the deadlock, you haven’t moved to undo it. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, your forehead meeting the wooden door with a muted thud, you curse that stupid, tremulous fluttering in your chest. They’re here for you, protecting you. You’re safe.

Open the damn door. 

“Y-yeah?”

Coward.

“Brought some food for you. Dinner.” There’s a rustling on the other side, and you raise your head to peer back through the glass in time to see him lift up a paper carry bag to the peephole. The idea of eating anything right now has your stomach roiling in protest. “Nothing fancy, but it’s good, I swear,” he says. Then, gentler, like he’s talking down a spooked animal, adds, “You need to eat.”

Still, you hesitate. All you need to do is open the door, grab the food and then at least it’s there if you want it later. Easy. 

Too quick, too jerky to be natural, you twist at the handle and yank the door open a scant few inches, enough for you to reach out an arm expectantly for the food. “Thank you,” you pre-empt, because hungry or not, you’re not completely without manners.

The officer lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, no. I’m not taking heat from the Cap when the guys on the next shift find you passed out ‘cause you haven’t eaten anything,” he scoffs. “C’mon, we can talk while you eat.” Not a suggestion – you barely have time to stumble back before he’s pushing his way inside and kicking the door closed behind him. The second he takes to flick the lock somehow simultaneously eases the knots in your stomach and sends your heartrate ratcheting.

It’s halfway to a miracle that you’re still standing at all. 

“Eat,” he tells you, his deep voice brooking no disagreement as he shoves the bag of food your way and grabs the lone chair in the room, dragging it closer to the edge of the bed and settling himself down. Clearly he has no intention of going anywhere until he’s satisfied you’ve eaten your fill.

With little else for it, you do as you’re told, reaching into the bag to find steamed buns at your fingertips, still warm as you pry open the wrapper– and wince. The familiar scent of pork, ginger and chives wafts through the air, unwittingly digging at old wounds. 

Suddenly you’re a kid again, strolling down the hill with your family, one hand tucked safely within your brother’s, the other grasping a steaming hot bun. You’re happy and whole and so, so young–

“Something wrong? You don’t like meat buns?” 

Not the time. Ignoring the bitter ache the memory conjures, you’re quick to shake your head, “No. No, thank you. It’s great.” You doubt he buys it, but then again you also doubt he cares so long as you get something in your stomach. 

One bite, chew, swallow. Another, chew, swallow – mechanical until it isn’t. The first bun disappears and you reach for the second.

“How’s your head?” he asks.

You swallow down another mouthful. “Fuzzy. Sore. I still can’t remember anything,” you  admit, in case that’s where this line of questioning is going. Nothing beyond waking up in your bed covered in blood and a stranger’s cum at any rate.

The blood work they did at the hospital confirmed you were drugged along with the others, the detective mentioning the near-empty bottle of wine they’d found, which they were in the process of testing too. He’d also pointed out the lack of evidence indicating any kind of forced entry, which paired with the former is something you’ve been trying not to dwell on. 

The officer gives a considering nod, “That’s to be expected, don’t worry about it. I still think it’s worth asking a few more questions if you’re feeling up to it?” Again, it’s phrased like a question, but already he’s pulling out a voice recorder, setting down on the mattress between you. 

“Um, sure. Yeah,” you croak. 

A small smile, “Good.” He leans forward to switch on the recorder. “We’ll start with the other victims – your friends. Tell me about them.”

“Kaori, she’s– she was my best friend. We worked at the same grocer when I first moved out of my parents’ place, when I got a job here she made the decision to move with me. That was about six months ago.” 

“And the other two?” 

“Her brother Koji and another friend of ours Takashi. They came up to visit; Kaori’s been back once or twice since we left, but I hadn’t seen them–” tears blur at your vision and your voice just… gives out. 

They’re gone. 

You drag a shuddering breath in and it hurts. 

Blindly, your hand reaches across the bed, blood tipped fingers sprawling over pristine white, and when they meet warmth – an open palm outstretched – you seize it and cling on with everything you have. You’ll unravel if you don’t.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you chant, each syllable shakier than the last.

He dips his chin, just barely, and squeezes your hand, “You invited them?”

A wordless, wide eyed nod. 

“You were close.” Not a question. He sounds like he’s mulling over the thought, though his expression is inscrutable. “Were you involved with any of them?”

This time, there’s the slightest hesitation before you shake your head. The officer frowns, “I need the truth. Your friends were attacked for a reason. Lying to me won’t help bring their families peace.”

The blood drains from your face, your heart lurching on a sickening thud. 

Your fault. 

Instinctively, you yank back your hand, or try to at least, but his grip tightens – enough to keep you from drawing away, not enough to hurt. Though neither his tone nor his expression hold any condemnation, it doesn’t change the truth of the matter. 

You didn’t drug them or pick up the knife and swing. You didn’t invite this psycho into your life, but the fact remains that they’re dead because of you. 

“I– it wasn’t like that. We weren’t… I didn’t–” 

MINE.

Tears threaten to spill and your bottom lip trembles. 

For a long, drawn out moment, he simply stares. There’s a twitch at his jaw and he sighs – more of a grunt, really – leaning back and pulling his hand from yours to rake through his dark hair. 

(Stupid, you think, how some part of you mourns the loss.) 

“Okay, alright. Fine. We’ll come back to that,” he concedes. “What about other friends? Coworkers you were close with?”

“No, I– I already told the detective I wasn’t seeing anyone.”

An irritated flash darkens his gaze. “I didn’t ask if you were fucking them.” And you must make a truly pathetic picture then, flinching like a kicked puppy, because he lets out another huff, closing his eyes for a beat and visibly working to soften the harsh lines of his expression. “Shit, okay– I’m sorry. It’s been a long day for us both,” he makes an odd noise, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, the sound entirely devoid of humour. “The guy who did this, he either already knows about the people precious to you, or he’s gonna do his damn best to find out, and if he thinks they’re threats, he’ll hurt them, or worse – he’ll use them to hurt you. I need you to tell me everything.”

And so, feeling the exhaustion of the day creeping over you, you do.

You tell him about the small group from work you occasionally go out for Friday drinks with, your old friends from uni, right down to the neighbour two floors below, who’d seen you hauling boxes the day you’d moved in and immediately offered to help. When you’d christened the kitchen baking you’d made sure to bring him some, and just last week you’d had tea with him and his grandma.

“What about school? Anyone you still keep in contact with?”

You try for a laugh but it sounds all wrong. “I wasn’t exactly popular back then,” 

His eyes narrow. They flit across your face like he’s searching for… something. You feel like a bug, pinned in place, squirming and uncomfortable, your face too hot. 

“Bullied?” he probes. 

Another nod. 

“How ‘bout family?”

Your mouth dries.

“My parents… I haven’t spoken to them in months. We don’t really get along.” The last conversation you’d had with them, if you could call it as much, lasted all of five minutes. Dry pleasantries and thinly veiled criticisms, wrapped up in yet another pointed reminder that things didn’t have to be this way – you were the one adamant on shutting them out. 

You doubt it’d raise a single eyebrow between them if you went the same again without contact. 

“Siblings?”

Another tear slips from your lashes and you swallow against the tight lump in your throat. The weight of his gaze feels oppressive, you’re too bare, too vulnerable, you don’t want to talk about this, so you shift your line of sight to the paper delivery bag, half crumpled now, and let your fingernails sink into the skin of your palms. 

Still, the words don’t come straight away, and when they do, they’re strained. Choked. Painted so thick is grief that you wonder if he understands them at all.

“No. I uh, I had a brother– a twin brother. He died.” 

You don’t talk about your brother, ever.

Kaori knew the bare bones of it. Koji and Takashi too – you had a twin brother, he died, and it fucked you up. Without ever uttering a word, they’d known not to press, that the wounds left behind weren’t quite as healed as the scar tissue led to believe. 

“How old were you?”

Seven, when you lost him. Twelve, when the letters stopped coming. 

“Fourteen,” you whisper, curling in on yourself. “He was sick.”

Stop asking, stop talking, stop, stop, stop. 

When you risk a look in the officer’s direction, his features are hewn granite, eyes set in a hard, angry glare that steals the very breath from your lungs. “Yeah?” he grunts, rising to his feet. “You stopped writing long before that.”

There’s just enough time for understanding to crash over you, for your lips to part, a feather light gasp of “Hajime?” to slip out before you’re flat on your back, wrists pinned to the mattress above your head, the officer– a ghost– Hajime looming over you. 

“What did I fucking tell you?”  

—

‘Sweetie, make sure you hold your brother’s hand.’

They’d meant when you were walking home from the bus stop, or crossing the road. When there was a buddy system so no one got separated or left behind. 

Hajime was always holding your hand. Not because your parents told him to, but because that’s how it was supposed to be. You were twins, he’d been born first (by all of six minutes) and you had followed. You were always following Hajime, and he was always going to look after you. 

Until he gets put into the Otter class with Mr Inagaki, and you go into Dugong with Miss Ino. 

Hajime’s nothing short of enraged. He throws chairs and yells and tries to kick the Principal, but it doesn’t change anything.

It would be good for you, they said, to have a chance to make other friends. ‘You can’t keep using your brother as a crutch, honey,’ your mother gently admonishes. 

Hajime scowls at that. Later, when it’s just the two of you hiding away in his room, he tells you she’s an idiot and a liar. ‘You don’t need anyone else. You have me.’

You knew that. You’d always have Hajime, but the other kids in your class weren’t as awful as he made them sound. Some of them were actually kind of cool, and they liked you, too.

For a while, you began to believe you could have both; Hajime and your new friends. 

Until one day you’re waiting for him at lunch when a boy from your class tugs on your braids and with a wide, toothy grin, loudly proclaims to the whole playground that even though you were a girl, and girls have cooties, it’d probably be okay if you wanted to be his girlfriend. 

You didn’t see Hajime coming up behind you. You’ve no idea where he found the scissors. The only warning either of you get is a sudden, splitting roar before he’s throwing himself at the smaller boy, tackling him to the ground. 

‘She’s MINE!’

Silver glints, flashing in the sunlight, and a high pitched shriek rips through the playground as he brings the scissors down on the poor, struggling boy. 

With a viciousness you’d never known of your brother, he swings again and again. It’s chaos. The other kids scatter and the teachers run to intervene. Hajime, spitting and snarling, red in the face and half-feral, doesn’t stop for them.

He stops for you. 

At the sound of a sharp little gasp, a line of red slashed along your forearm, Hajime stops dead, wide, horrified eyes fixed on yours.

—

‘Sweetie, what have I told you about snooping? I raised you better than that.’

‘But they’re addressed to me. Hajime wrote to me.’

‘Your brother’s not well, those letters– they’ll only upset you. I don’t want you reading them.’

‘… He says he misses me.’

‘I know, but he’s where he belongs, getting help. You want that for him, don’t you? To get the help he needs?’

‘I want to write back to him.’

—

There’s another letter waiting for you when you get home from school.

You hang your backpack near the door, still damp from being tossed in the pool, and eye the opened envelope sitting by your father. He doesn’t look up from his laptop when you reach for it, doesn’t lift a finger to stop you. Nevertheless, the displeasure radiates from him clear as day. 

“You shouldn’t encourage him. He’s not well.”

You’d scoff if it wouldn’t get you in trouble. Nothing you said could ever be taken as ‘encouragement’, and you’re under no illusions about who and what your brother is. 

The violence terrifies you. Sometimes he says things in the letters he writes that make your stomach all twisty and your palms sweat, but Hajime could be a monster, and you think you’d love him anyway. You wouldn’t have a choice. 

So you pluck at the envelope and tuck it close, making your way to your room without another glance at either of your parents. Sitting cross legged atop your bed, you eagerly scan the contents;

He hates the new therapist. They had a movie night planned, but some asshole started a fight and the whole thing got cancelled. The food’s still shit. He’s fed up and pissed off, whether he behaves or not, they won’t let him out and they won’t give him what he wants, so what’s the point in pretending?

The both of you turn twelve in ten days time – you owe it to him to come spend it together. 

—

‘Maybe it’s for the best, sweetheart.’

Dismissive. She’s always dismissive. Your hands curl in response, tightening before you force yourself to flex them out and bite your tongue. It’s not worth the fight. Neither one of them actually care, and nothing you say will ever change that. 

He’s angry at you. Or hurt. Both, probably. 

They wouldn’t let you visit. You’d begged – cried, even – and it hadn’t swayed them. The rules are that you aren’t allowed to go and see Hajime and you aren’t allowed to talk to him on the phone. The letters are the only communication you have, and when your twelfth birthday comes and goes, those stop too.

You’ve sent four letters since, no response. 

He’s shut you out entirely and while you can’t blame him for it, it’s painful.

You’ve always had Hajime, through everything. Him shutting you out feels like losing a limb– 

No, it’s more than that. It’s like slowly losing some vital function inside of you. Like your lungs are shutting down and you can’t breathe properly and your heart isn’t pumping the way it should. You feel guilty and horrible and at least twice, you debate trying to find a way to sneak out and make the two hour journey on your own, just so you can see him.

It’s a stupid idea, they wouldn’t even let you through the front door, but it’s the only idea you have and so you cling to it.

You keep writing to him– panicked. Desperate. Begging his forgiveness. 

He never writes back.

—

They sit you down at breakfast three months after your fourteenth birthday and tell you Hajime’s gone.

There was another fight, someone pushed him–

You don’t want to hear the details. They don’t matter and your ears are ringing too loud to make sense of them anyway.

Hajime is gone.

The cord between you was stretched and fraying already. He hadn’t written in over two years and probably hated you towards the end but he– he was–

Yours. A part of you. 

Gone.

And your mother’s asking about the English test you have second period. 

—

“What. Did. I. Say?” Each word is slowly enunciated, a quiet growl that drags an unwilling shiver down your spine. 

He smells of wood – of cedar, spice and musk, the notes melding, coiling with the dizzying body heat, the solid weight of him, bracing himself above you.

His lips are mere inches from yours. 

Not dead. 

Here.

There’s a thousand thoughts racing through your head, connections that light up, clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle, painting a deeply unsettling picture – all of which are drowned out by the revelation that Hajime is here.

You burst into tears–

and Hajime – your brother, very much alive and glaring at you from above – surges down to swallow them in a vicious kiss.

The moment your lips touch, all the tension in his body just… bleeds out. Hajime groans, low and heated, his hips rocking, grinding along your stomach, and if you weren’t too preoccupied short circuiting, dangling on the precipice of a panic attack, you’d feel the twitch of his mouth, curling into a small but no less satisfied smirk.

He relaxes, like he’s coming home rather than returning from the dead to land the killing blow.

“Mine,” he answers his own question, breath heavy and ragged as his teeth nip at your jaw. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

The scratches on the wall. Kaori and Koji and Takashi, asleep in a sea of red. The viscous mess spilled over your belly. Your mother’s hushed voice, carrying down the hallway, ‘– only a phase. The books all say he’ll grow out of it before long.’

She hadn’t sounded convinced. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, desperate to block it all out as more tears spill into your hairline. Hajime won’t let you. He groans your name into the shell of your ear and licks at the tears as they fall. “Don’t,” he warns, fingers pressing tightly around your wrists ‘til they shoot back open with a gasp, “don’t you dare check out.”

When he rucks up your shirt to find you sans bra and a warm palm slides up to grope the soft, supple skin, a fresh burst of panic spurs you into action. Pinned under his weight as you are, you can’t move, and the idea of trying to physically fight him off is as laughable as it is terrifying – but when you were younger, you were the one – the only one – who could coax Hajime back from the edge, your hand in his.

Until he leapt from it entirely, and they took him away.

“H-Hajime?” A trembling, hiccuping whimper, thick with tears.  

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even pause – shuffling down your body to mouth at them instead – but hooded, simmering pools of green flick back up to your face, a hum of acknowledgement rumbling in his chest as he nips and sucks pretty, burgundy blooms across your breasts.

“I-if you ever loved me, even a little… Please, Haji– don’t hurt me like this–” you choke on another sob, pathetic mess that you are.

Hajime goes preternaturally still, eyes boring into you. 

You stare right back, fighting the urge to cower and flinch, to turn your cheek and stare at the discarded dumpling wrappers, letting him take what he wants. Praying that he won’t hurt you too badly if you give it to him without a fight.

Because it will hurt, you think. It’ll break you entirely. 

(Are you not already broken?)

When his head drops, you can’t help it – the sharp, terrified hitch in your breath – but his lips meet your forehead, then each cheek, before finally they brush over your lips with a tenderness he has no right to. “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he vows, cradling the side of your jaw, “I won’t hurt you, ever.”

But that’s a lie, too.

“I love you more than anything.”

He kisses you again, soft and sweet and gentle, as if those promises weren’t sewn from violence and legitimised in blood. As if he isn’t breaking your heart with every sweep of his tongue, plundering your mouth.

There’s no fight in you left when he reaches for the waistband of your sweats and slowly starts easing them down. You don’t claw and shove when the hold on your wrists loosens and then disappears entirely, both hands needed to strip away his clothes. 

The sound of his belt buckle clinking, the soft hiss of a zipper, they wash over you, white noise lost to the pounding in your ears. 

But you don’t look away.

He strokes his cock – long and thick and flushed to the tip –  crawling up the mattress to kneel between your legs like a supplicant before an altar of the divine. 

Devotion demands sacrifice. 

“It killed me,” he starts, dragging the mushroom head along the slit of your pussy. He frowns a little, leans back and spits – a fat glob of saliva landing dead centre, adding to the mess his weeping cock’s already made. “When the letters stopped coming. I was angry, so fucking angry, all the time. I’d lash out and they’d put me in another cage, and I’d do it again, and again. They tried convincing me you’d moved on,” his eyes flash darkly, “which was bullshit. They’d have to carve me out of you with a knife.”

What shocks you isn’t the violent imagery, but the truth of it settling into your bones, inescapable and undeniable; you’ll always love your brother, even if that very love destroys you.

“I didn’t–”

The first thrust rips a strangled yelp from your throat. 

He’s too big, you’re not prepared to take him – and Hajime doesn’t care. His head tips back, shuddering out a breathy laugh. 

There’s no pause, no period of grace, seated deep inside of you, the walls of your pussy hugging him tight, Hajime won’t allow you a second to catch your breath and wait for the burning sting to abate. His hips draw back until only the throbbing head of his cock remains inside, and, upon grabbing a leg to hitch over his shoulder, uses it as leverage to punch forward, stuffing your tight little cunt to the brim.

The pace he sets is brutal from the outset. Bruising. He licks at your tears between kisses and moans when you clench and shudder around him. “Never again,” he pants into your ear. “I’ll kill them all if you leave. Every last fucking one. You’re mine. Mine.”

And you’d think it cruel, a punishment, if not for the way those green eyes burn. 

When his fingers twine with yours, pressing you down into the mattress, holding you there, you wonder if this was always an inevitability. 

Hajime led and you followed, hand in bloody hand. 

He’d never allow anything less.

[drmaddict]

Keep Out

Summary: modern!Aemond takes his girlfriend home with him for the semester break over summer. He had already forgotten that he barely got any peace and quiet in his old room.

Wordcount: 1.717

Warnings: tiny smuttish part, but also not really, mentions of an unwanted lap dance, lots and lots of fluff

Present

They heard something rumbling loudly against the door. "Urgh. Fuck. Aemond?" shouted Aegon through the door.

(Y/n) laughed silently and shook an equally smirking Aemond, who was lying on her stomach.

2 months before

Aemond was unusually nervous for his ratio. He had never brought anyone home before. It was unusual. He felt strangely naked, as she paced around his room, looking at the books and posters from his school days.

When a grin appeared on her face, he knew immediately what was coming.

"Aha!" She pulled the CD case from the shelf and held it up triumphantly. "I knew it!",she grinned at him.

He just rolled his eyes and put the My Chemical Romance CD back in its place. "Behave.", was all he said.

Her smile softened. Her arms gently wrapped around his neck and pulled him in for a soft kiss.

"Close the door! Would you?", they heard someone laugh. None other than Aegon stood in the doorway and grinned at them both. "We don't want mummy to think you're promiscuous."

"Wow. That was a difficult word for you.", Aemond replied in a calm voice, but (Y/n) could see the tension in his jaw.

"At least I'm not a twenty-year-old virgin.", Aegon rolled his eyes and walked away again.

(Y/n) scratched his neck reassuringly. "So this is Aegon?"

He grumbled in agreement, annoyed.

"You exaggerated a bit with his hair. I was almost expecting a half bald head.", she turned his mind to another topic, knowing full well that he was largely uncomfortable with the subject of sex.

"You didn't see him after rehab. He was close."

She laughed lightly.

He lay relaxed on the bed. (Y/n) half beneath him. His head lay on her chest and he savoured the delicate fingers, as they ran over his scalp and through his long strands.

Sleeptoken was playing softly in the background, but he focussed more on her heartbeat, which he could now hear so clearly.

His eyes had fallen shut at the caresses, his breathing was calm and deep.

Everything was beautiful. Everything was good. Everything-

"Aemond we - Oh sorry."

Both their gazes shot in the direction of the roughly flung open door. His mum stood in the doorway, a little embarrassed. "We'll order something from the Italian. Please come downstairs... And put a shirt on Aemond!"

He dropped his face into the crook of her neck and groaned in annoyance. "I should have taken a hotel.", he grumbled.

She kissed his temple. "Just locking up is cheaper, I think."

"We don't have to.", she explained quietly.

Aemond shook his head. "I want to try it.", he admitted, still looking nervous. "But only on you for now.", he confessed quickly.

She stroked his hair. "Okay."

"You sure?"

She nodded with a smile.

Aemond cleared his throat. He had come a long way since he was a boy and a teenager, but the memory of that night was still so present.

Aegon had dragged him along to his birthday. He doesn't know what he'd expected, but it hadn't been a stripper.

He and his friends had cheered her on as she danced on Aemonds lap. He had never felt so overwhelmed und uncomfortable. The fact that he had come in his pants less than two minutes later had, of course, taken the mockery to the extreme.

They had bawled and Aemond had simply run away until he could lock himself in the bathroom, where he washed himself three times in a row in an attempt to wash off the shame.

"Hey." He felt her hand on his cheek. He pulled himself from his memory. "It's just me here. No one else." She smiled so warmly at him again. And she was right. The rest of his family was gone tonight, except for Haelena. But she rarely left her bugs voluntarily anyway.

He nodded, but still buried his face briefly on her shoulder. "Can I?," he asked, stroking her waistband with his fingers.

She nodded with a smile.

He carefully slipped his hand under the elasticated fabric and immediately came across the top of her panties. He looked at her questioningly again. She simply nodded. His fingers travelled deeper. He felt light stubble and took in the slightly scratchy feeling beneath his fingertips. He drew a few exploratory circles.

"Does that bother you?", she asked a little hesitantly, but he immediately shook his head.

"Not at all."

He let his fingers wander deeper until he felt what he was looking for. He groped around a little awkwardly and blindly. Searching for what he had already read about. She tenderly pushed her hand towards his. Grasped his fingers and brought them into position. She calmly showed him how to move them. He followed her with concentration.

She sighed slightly and withdrew her hand again. He tried himself out. Experimented. Memorised what caused which reaction.

And he realised, that this was okay. It was even kind of nice. It was-

The door to his room opened again. Helaena poked her head into the room. She didn't pay any attention to the situation of the two of them, frantically trying to present themselves in a more socially acceptable manner.

"Helaena!", shouted Aemond reprovingly.

She looked absolutely neutral in return. "Have you seen my Tarantula? She's run off."

"Your what?", asked (Y/n) immediately in alarm.

"My Tarantula. She-"

"Rethorical question.", explained Aemond immediately. "And no."

"Okay."

The door closed again.

"Please tell me that Tarantula is the name of your cat."

"Don't worry about it. The creature is ancient. It probably just turned to dust."

"Found her!", Heelena shouted from the corridor.

"Great.", Aemond called back, only slightly annoyed.

(Y/n) was still sitting tensely on his bed. "What do you say we-"

"Chinese or Thai?" he asked.

"Chinese."

"I'll just wash my hands and get the car.", he explained and stood up humbly. Would he ever have a quiet evening in this house?

"I love you.", she called after him tensely.

"Love you too.", he called back with a sigh. 

They made out violently. She was sitting on his old desk and had her legs wrapped around his hips like a snake.

His centre kept twitching slightly forward. His family was gone, even his sister, and the damn door was locked.

Aemond pressed himself against her even more than he already did. His hands wandered under her top. His lips broke away from hers and travelled to her neck. He was ready. He was sure. He felt comfortable with her. He wanted this.

"To bed?", he asked, slightly out of breath.

She nodded eagerly. "Please.", she sighed. He lifted her from the table and carried her towards the bed. She took off her own top and threw it somewhere. He did the same.

She was already sitting down on the mattress and pushed herself into the middle of it, when Aemond tried to get out of his trousers.

He lay down on top of her. Their lips met. He sighed, when he felt her hands on his bare back.

He was just sliding his hands into the waistband of her trousers when he heard the click of the lock. He frantically threw half of the blanket over (Y/n) to cover her body as his grandfather stood in the doorway.

He looked at them both in astonishment.

"Excuse me.", he nodded briefly to (Y/n). "Otto Hightower. The grandfather." He introduced himself impassively.

"Hello." (Y/n) waved back, overwhelmed.

"You still have my encyclopaedia.", he explained, turning to Aemond.

He looked at him perplexed. "Couldn't you have just called me?"

Otto just raised an eyebrow. "The book, Aemond.", he demanded.

Aemond stood up angrily, took the book from the shelf and pressed it into his grandfather's hand.

"Could we have some privacy now, please?"

Otto just waved him off. "But don't get her pregnant. We don't need any more complaints like your brother's."

He didn't even look at them again. He simply left the house.

Aemond breathed in and out in a controlled manner.

He turned round with a jerk and pulled his trousers back on.

"Aemond, it's all-"

"Get dressed. We're driving."

"Driving? Where?"

"To a hotel.", he explained curtly and held out her top.

(Y/n) looked at him in surprise. "So we're not stopping?", she asked, half teasingly, half cheerfully.

Aemond looked at her insistently. "Not if you don't want to."

She smiled. "Let's go then."

The night was mild. Mild enough that they didn't try to put as much distance between them as possible. Just touching fingers or knuckles.

No. Aemond had snuggled up to her chest and (Y/n) held him in a relaxed grip.

They both lingered in the land of dreams, knowing that the door was locked and the key was still in it.

They had had their peace and quiet all evening. No one had gotten on their nerves. Aemond had snuggled up to her as he usually only did in his own flat. A place where no one could go without his permission. The key in the lock wasn't the highend security system in his flat, but it reassured him enough.

Even in his dreams, he still had the feeling that he had finally triumphed when he was suddenly and rudely torn from this world.

A loud, breaking sound rang out. The sound crashed into the room like a bang.

And with the noise, Aegon smashed in too.

"Oaaa! Fuck!", he exclaimed, annoyed, then he laughed clearly drunk.

Aemond and (Y/n) immediately sat upright in bed. (Y/n) looked perplexed at Aegon.

Aemond looked at the hole in the wall that had once been his door, now lying as splinters of wood on the floor.

"I didn't get the curve.", Aegon laughed, still on the floor. "Sorry little brother."

Present

"Stable.", (Y/n) stated, when she had her laughter under control again.

"Steel core with a security lock. Standard for banks.", explained Aemond relaxed.

He firmly grabbed her hand, which she had withdrawn during her fit of laughter, and put it back on his head.

"Don't stop.", he just sighed and closed his eye again. A slight smile played around his lips.

She kissed the top of his head with a smile and complied.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

୨ৎ hot summer night (Ford x fem!reader)

minors DNI

In the sweltering heat of a summer night at the Mystery Shack, you find yourself unable to sleep and stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water. Little did you expect Ford Pines to find you here like this, almost naked. God knows Ford tried. tags: sexual themes, nsfw, smut, kitchen sex, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, dirty talk, loud sex, from sub to dom ford, teasing

You look at the ceiling, the night silence is broken only by the buzzing of an old fan in the corner of the room. It’s unbearable, the heat. Kicking off the thin sheet that was sticking to your legs, you sigh. The twins are probably passed out, you think and prove of that is Stan's snoring could practically be heard through the walls. But you. . . you're damn awake, too hot to even think about sleep.

Screw it.

You slip out of bed, stretching your sore limbs. The old wooden floor creaks under your bare feet as you pad quietly down the stairs in nothing but a bralette with a tiny bow and your panties. Who the hell was going to see you at this hour, anyway?

The kitchen is dark when you step inside, and the thought of cold water is enough to make your mouth water. You take a glass and fill it from the tap, feeling the coolness under your fingers, which is a little relief in this damn heat. You take a sip, sighing, your body relaxing for the first time all night.

Then you hear it.

A shuffle. Someone’s steps.

You freeze, heart pounding. Fuck. You spin around, nearly dropping the glass, only to see him standing there. Ford. Great, just your luck. Stanford Pines, of all people, is here in the middle of the night. And you? Half-naked, barely anything covering you.

You feel your cheeks flush immediately, not just from the heat anymore. "Shit, Ford!" your voice barely above a whisper. "i thought everyone was asleep."

He looks as surprised as you feel, adjusting his glasses, eyes sweeping over you before darting away just as quickly. "I- I couldn’t sleep," he mutters, looking anywhere but at you, his normally calm voice sounded awkward at this moment. "too much on my mind, I guess."

You nod, trying to act casual, but the air between you becomes tense.

Ford fiddles with the rim of his glasses, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I didn't mean to interrupt,” he says, but his gaze just keeps returning to you, despite his obvious efforts to look away. What a beautiful sight in front of him. His eyes flick to the window, to the floor, but you’ve already caught him glancing at you more than once. It’s quick, like he's really ashamed, like the sight of you in just your bralette and panties is something he shouldn’t see, but can’t help but stare at.

His reaction to you isn’t what you expected, he’s usually so composed, so wrapped up in his own world of journals and interdimensional science that it’s like nothing could shake him. But here he is, standing in front of you, and he can’t take his eyes off your body. You stand here awkwardly. Ford clears his throat, his eyes flicker up to your face, but then you catch him, a quick glance downward, right at your bralette, to your nipples.

You shift uncomfortably, tugging the hem of your bralette down instinctively. “I just. . . needed some water,” you’re trying to break the tension

Stanford nods, but you catch him again, his gaze darting lower, this time lingering on the curve of your thighs, your panties hugging your hips. His Adam’s apple twitches as he swallows hard. You watch him adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose, his hands tremble slightly.

He’s trying not to look, but it’s obvious. He’s failing.

And the worst part? He’s clearly beating himself up over it. “I. . . shouldn’t be here,” he mumbles as his brows furrow, deep lines cutting across his forehead, like he's angry with himself. You don’t say anything, and that only seems to make it worse for him. His eyes fall shut for a moment, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm- damn it. I shouldn't-“

You know you should say something, anything, to break the tension, but instead, you just stand there, watching him struggle with his own thoughts. His eyes open again, and this time when he looks at you, it’s different. There’s heat in them, something he clearly doesn’t want to feel. His eyes trace the lines of your legs, lingering a little too long on your bare thighs, and then up again to your bralette.

"Ford. . .” you start, but he cuts you off with a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "God, what the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn’t-“ he rubs a hand over his face, turning away slightly, like he’s trying to physically stop himself from looking at you. "I’m too old for this. For you."

You turn away from him, feeling the need to focus on something, anything, other than the heat pooling between your legs what makes you unbelievably wet and horny. The sound of water pouring into your glass is the only thing filling the silence now, but you can feel his eyes on you. Even with your back turned, you can feel him watching.

As you stretch up to place the glass back on the shelf, your shirt rides up just a little, exposing more of your lower back and hips. You don’t do it on purpose, but it’s like the air gets hotter, the tension between you two almost suffocating. And now it’s not because of summer. You’re not oblivious. You know he’s still looking.

Behind you, Ford’s breath hitches, and you hear him shift awkwardly. His mind’s at war with itself. He knows he should turn away. No. . . He must walk away, run away. But he doesn’t. Instead, his gaze locks onto the soft curve of your waist, your hips, the way the fabric of your panties hugs your skin. It feels wrong, so fucking wrong, but he can’t help himself. His eyes drift lower, following the delicate lines of your legs.

Stanford feels a stirring deep in his gut, an unwelcome, insistent pressure building. "Shit. . .” he mutters under his breath, barely audible.

Blood runs to his cock, he’s getting hard and he knows he shouldn’t be. Every logical part of him is screaming to stop, to tear his eyes away, but his body and feelings betrays him. He watches as you stretch again, the hem of your bralette lifting, exposing more skin, and feels how his pants are getting tighter.

You catch the faint curse slip from his mouth, and for a moment, you pause, gripping the glass tighter in your hand. You don’t need to turn around to know what’s going on behind you, but there’s something that makes you curious. Part of you wants to tease him, just a little more, but you stay quiet, pretending not to notice.

“Ford, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, fine.”

“You sure? You seem. . . tense,” you say, dragging the word out just enough to make it obvious you know exactly what’s going on.

He clears his throat, but there’s no hiding the fact that he’s clearly struggling to keep it together. “I’m- I don’t know what’s wrong with me, goddamn it, I’m sorry.”

Your lips curl into a small smile. "You don’t have to be," you say, turning around fully now, your eyes locking with his. "I mean, it's not like I’m exactly dressed for modesty right now."

Ford runs a hand through his hair, clearly at a loss for words. He opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a weak, "You should. . . put on something more."

Your eyes linger on him, the way his chest rising and falling as he’s breathing heavily. You know you should feel awkward, embarrassed even, but you don’t. Instead, you feel something else. You take a step closer, just enough to close the gap between the two of you, and watch as his eyes widen. And then you do it — you slowly lower the strap of your bralette, letting it slip off your shoulder. His gaze follows the movement instantly, like he's mesmerized, completely unable to look away.

Ford’s eyes glued to the skin you’re revealing. He’s biting the inside of his cheek and you can see the conflict all over his face. His body betrays him, his hands twitch at his sides, like he's fighting the urge to reach out, to touch you. He swallows hard, trying desperately to keep control, but it’s so obvious he’s struggling. His pants are unbearably fucking tight now, a bulge straining against the fabric, and it hurts him so bad. 

"Jesus Christ. . . what are you doing? you-you shouldn't-“

You tilt your head slightly, letting your fingers toy with the other strap, but you don’t lower it, yet. “What?” you ask innocently, your tone light, teasing. “does it bother you, Ford?”

He’s quiet again for a second as he tries to force out words. “This- this isn’t right.” 

You take another step closer, almost closing the space between you. His breathing is ragged now, his gaze hungry despite the guilt clouding his features. “I don’t know, Ford,” you murmur. “you don’t look like you want me to stop.”

He groans softly, his body tensing at your words, his dick is going to explode.

Ford’s eyes dart around the room, searching for some kind of escape from the situation. His hands grip the edge of the counter as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. “No, we can’t. . . not here-“

You tilt your head, feigning confusion, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. “Not here? oh, then in your room maybe?”

He shakes his head. “Fuck, no, I mean- fuck,” he stammers, trying to find the right words but only fucking up more. “This is- this is insane,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I’m supposed to be- damn it, I’m old enough to know better.”

“Ford,” you say softly, “you don’t have to be so hard on yourself. I mean, it’s just us here. What’s the harm?”

“I shouldn’t be doing this. You- you have no idea how much I want to. . .”

You lean in, your voice dropping to a whisper. “But you do want to, don’t you?”

Ford’s eyes snap open. “Yes, but- but we can’t”

You cut him off, gently pressing your body against his, your breath warm against his ear. “Why not?” you whisper, your lips brushing against his skin. “tell me what’s stopping you.”

He groans, his control slipping even further. “God, this is such a bad idea, im so fucking attracted to you, but this- it’s not right.”

“Isn’t it?” you murmur, your lips grazing his ear as your hand lays on his bulge, slowly and gently caressing it. His cock twitches.

You press closer, your words a siren’s call, tempting him, he swears he’ll just cum right in his pants only from your voice, he doesn’t even wanna think what’ll happen if he’ll fuck you.

“Tell me, Ford. Did you think about how your fingers would feel in me? what you’d do with them?”

He’s fucking surprised, what a fast girl you are, straight to the point. “I- shit,” he hisses. “i imagined them everywhere. Touching you, your, oh my god, your-“

You interrupt him, leaning in closer, your breath warm against his lips. “You don’t have to imagine anymore,” you whisper, your hands sliding down his chest to the waistband of his pants. “i want you to touch me. Everywhere you’ve dreamed about.” you whisper as you smile against his ear, your fingers slipping under the waistband of his pants, brushing against his skin. “You want me to tell you where I want your fingers? i want them. . . right here.” you press your fingers locked with his to the inner of your thigh.

His breath catches and he fucking groans again. “Jesus. this is- this is so fucked up, but I can’t, I can’t stop.”

Slowly you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. His eyes follow every movement. It can’t be happening. “do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

You look up at him with a smirk, your fingers teasingly brushing against the bulge in his pants. “I think you know exactly what I’m doing,” you murmur, “now, let me show you just how much I want you.”

You brush your fingers gently over his clothed hardness, feeling the way he twitches under your touch. Ford’s hands tremble, his control slipping away with every touch, every word. He looks down at you, his face a mix of need and regret, his body aching with desire as you take the final step, his cock springs free, already hard and throbbing and you look up at him with a wicked grin. Then you bring your lips to his tip, giving it a light kiss. His fingers grip the counter for support, knuckles white against the wood.

“Fuck,” Stanford mutters, bucking his hips. “Please, just don’t stop. . .” Ford’s eyes roll back, his head falling back against the cabinet as he struggles to keep himself together. He’s lost in the sensations, his entire focus on the way you’re swirling your tongue around his tip. “Mmm-! yeah, yeah. . .”

You take him into your mouth, slowly, your tongue curling around him in a way that makes him gasp. Fuck, he tastes so good and you enjoy the way he shudders and moans above you. His hands find their way to your head, all six fingers tangled in your hair as he tries to hold onto something, anything, to keep from losing himself completely.

“Aghnn, s-such a good girl-“

You hear his praise and take him deeper, your head moving with a rhythm, drawing out every groan and sigh from him. As you suck his cock, you can feel the ache between your thighs growing more intense. The more you please him, the more he moans, the more horny you get, fuck, you’re getting awfully wet from this. And you find your free hand slipping between your legs, pressing against the soaked fabric of your panties.

Ford’s groans fill the room, so desperate as he holds your head and fucks your mouth, but when his eyes flick down and see your hand moving between your legs, something snaps inside him. “Shit,” he mutters through gritted teeth, his hips bucking slightly into your mouth. “I- oh god, baby. . .” Ford’s gaze locks onto you, and his breath hitches at the sight of you rubbing your clit while you continue to take him in your mouth. He can see how you’re trying to satisfy yourself. His hands move to your shoulders, gripping tightly. “I can see how much you need it. I can’t just let you do this alone.”

You pull away, your face flushed and your breaths ragged. You look up at him, all turned on and hot.

“Let me take care of you, babygirl.” last thing you hear him say before he lifts you effortlessly, his hands gripping your thighs as he turns you around and bends you over the counter. You gasp in surprise, your heart racing as the cool surface of the counter presses against your skin. Your panties are pushed aside as he positions himself behind you, his cock, all wet from your saliva, rubs sweetly between your folds.

“Ford-!” you start, but he cuts you off with a slap on your ass.

“You’ve been teasing me all night. Now it’s my turn.”

You shudder at his words, your body arching into his touch. He leans over you, leaving kisses on your neck and groaning in it as his hands trail down your thighs until he reaches the waistband of your panties. His fingers hook under the fabric, pulling them down just enough to expose your dripping cunt, and his hand settles between your thighs, rubbing you slowly.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, sweetie,” he mutters. His fingers begin to work in slow circles on your aching clit, rubbing you.

You moan, pressing your hips back against him, desperate for more. “Ford-! ple-please. . .

He chuckles darkly, his fingers collecting your slick. “Oh, you want more, do you? After everything you did to me, now you’re begging?” his other hand slides up your back, pushing your body further against the counter, making your ass raise up even more as he teases you mercilessly. “You’re going to take what I give you.”

“Fuck- fuck yes!” you gasp, your body trembling under his control. His fingers work faster, the slick sounds of him rubbing you filling the kitchen as the pressure builds inside you. You’re panting, your body reacting to every touch, every stroke, your mind crazy . “I’m ready,” you whine. “I need you, Ford- pleasee!”

He pulls your panties down fully and steps back just enough to take in the sight of you bent over the counter for him, your legs spread, ass up, your skin flushed.

“God, you’re perfect, dollface,” he murmurs, more to himself, his hand running over the curve of your ass before landing a sharp slap that makes you gasp and press back against him.

You feel his hands steadying you as he rubs his length against your soaked pussy. Every inch of him is hard, and you can feel how badly he needs you. “You’re going to take me now,” he whispers against your ear. “all of me.”

Without waiting for an answer, he thrusts his hips forward, sliding into you with a groan. You cry out, the sudden fullness overwhelming, but it’s exactly what you wanted. Your soft walls welcome him as you clench around his throbbing cock.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grits out, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulls you back against him with every thrust. “I’m not gonna last long like this.” 

You can barely respond, the pleasure is so intense that it leaves you breathless. All you can do is moan and gasp his name as he fucks you from behind, holding your waist.

His pace quickens, the sound of your bodies moving together filling the air, so fucking dirty. “Say my name,” Ford demands. 

“Fo-Ford-!” you gasp, barely able to get the word out as he thrusts deeper, his dick feels so good inside you. 

Ford’s body is pressed tightly against yours as he buries himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as if he’s afraid to let go. Each thrust is followed by his groans and your moan. He fucks you so hard, holding your body like he’s trying to make up for lost time, time he spent denying what he wanted. 

“F-fuuuck,” he groans as he can’t believe this is happening. “I’ve thought about this, about fucking you for so long. Needed to fill this little pretty cunt. . .” 

He grips you tighter, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust, and you feel his fingers dig into your skin. You’re both lost in it, his rhythm hard and fast, but there’s something in the way he moves—like he’s still in disbelief, like he thinks this is going to disappear. 

Ford’s thrusts grow more erratic and you can feel him losing himself in you completely. His breath is hot and jagged against the back of your neck as he pounds into you, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room, slap after slap. You can hear him muttering under his breath, words slipping out like he can’t control them anymore.

“Fuck, this is unreal. . . so good to be true,” he groans, each thrust deeper, harder than the last. His grip on your hips tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of how desperately he needs this, needs you. “Can’t stop- won’t stop.” you moan his name, your body arching to meet him and your eyes roll back.

Stanford’s hand slides to your front, his fingers rubbing roughly against your clit as he fucks you harder, deeper. That drives you mad, his thumb circling your needy clit, the pleasure builds in you fast, almost too fast, and you can barely breathe as he thrusts into your cunt. You’re both a mess, the heat between you making it impossible to think straight. 

Then, through the haze, his voice comes out, rough and desperate. "No, no, baby. . . need to see your face," Ford moans. "Need you to fucking see who’s filling up this tight pussy right now."

Before you can react, he pulls out and spins you around, pressing you against the counter. You barely have time to catch your breath before he grabs your thighs, spreading you wide and slams back into you. The force makes you gasp and his hands are everywhere, fingers gripping your skin, going to your breasts, cupping them, pinching your hard nipples through your bralette like he can’t get enough.

“I need to see your face, sweetie.” he leans closer to you. “need you to see who’s fucking you senseless right now, yeah?” you close your eyes tight being a moaning and whining mess under him. His eyes lock onto yours and he fucks into you much rougher. “Look at me while I fuck you,” he commands. “Look at me and see who’s fucking filling up this sweet cunt right now.” his hips snapping forward again, hitting deep- so deep you swear you can feel him pressing against your cervix. "im gonna fucking lose it, baby, look at me, look at me while I wreck this cunt."

You can barely focus, your vision blurred by the waves of pleasure crashing over you. You’re too breathless to respond, your body trembling from his pace, but you lock eyes with him. Ford’s movements are so rough, each thrust deeper and harder as he drives you both toward the edge. “You’re taking it so well,” he growls. “So fucking tight. Goddamn, such a good girl for me.” as he continues to pound into you. 

“Yes, Ford-!” you gasp. His words, his cock - it’s all too much. “im- im yours. All yours, ahhhn” you swear feel his cock dragging against every inch of you, his thickness stretching you so wide it’s obscene. Your head spins as his filthy words push you even closer to the edge, make you even more wet when you thought it’s impossible. “F-Ford, fuuck, i can’t-!” you whine, but before you can finish, his thumb is rubbing roughly yet so fucking nicely over your clit and you arch into him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he warns you as he can’t help but watch your pussy take his cock. “I’m gonna cum inside you, fill you up completely.” the pressure building in your core as he pounds into you, harder, deeper, relentless

Your own pleasure peaks, and you cry out, your body trembling as you cum hard, body convulsing as you finally break, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You cry out his name, your thighs trembling as he keeps fucking you through it, his hips slamming into yours. You’re shaking in his hands, your little pussy so tight around him, milking him, every drop. Ford follows, his orgasm hitting him as he thrusts into you, filling you completely. 

You barely have time to catch your breath before Ford’s grip tightens and with one final, rough thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, groaning loudly as he spills into you. “Fuckkk, yes,” his voice breaking. “s-such a good girl, huh,” his body trembles against yours, his cock pulsing inside as he empties himself, filling you completely. you gasp again as you feel his cum filling you up and you just stay still, enjoying this feeling as he claims you, burying his seed deep inside your womb.

The intensity of his orgasm leaves him breathless, his body shuddering as he holds you tightly. He stands still against you, his legs trembling, both of you panting heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. “Jesus fucking christ. . .” Ford mumbles, looking at you. “I can’t believe I fucking did that." he looks down, watching as his release drips from between your legs. What a sight.

The room falls into a sudden, heavy silence, save for the sound of your breathing as you both come down from the intense high. Ford’s hands are still gripping your hips, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. His forehead rests against yours. The realization of what just happened slowly starts to settle in.

Your eyes meet, wide and tired. Neither of you speaks for a moment, still shocked what just happened. Ford’s gaze flickers, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his lips parted as though he wants to say something but can’t find the words.

Ford swallows hard, his grip loosening just slightly. “I. . . I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t think- damn, I didn’t mean for it to-“ he brushes a stray lock of hair from your forehead. 

The realization of how loud everything had been creeps in: the slamming of bodies, the gasps, the moans. Shit! Your face heats up as the thought clicks in your mind.

“Do you think. . .?” you begin, glancing nervously toward the hallway.

Ford’s eyes widen. He seems to understand what's going on at the same time as you do.

Then, from the hallway outside the kitchen, there’s the unmistakable creak of floorboards, followed by a very familiar voice.

“For the love of god, could you two have picked a quieter fuckin’ spot?”

[vanteguccir]

can u write about y/n doing that one tiktok trend where she tells Matt/Chris to get out of the room while she changes and he’s all shocked n stuff 😭😭

matt:

matt would be so disconcerted, not believing that you want him to get out of your shared bedroom so you can change after so many times seeing you naked, he would think he did something wrong and that you were feeling insecure, being a lost puppy 😭😭

- here's a small blurb of it -

Y/N stood at the foot of the bed, rummaging through the closet for a fresh change of clothes. Matt was sprawled on the bed, his laptop propped up on a pillow as he half-heartedly worked on answering some emails. Every few minutes, he'd glance up at her, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watched her move around the room.

"Hey, honey?" Y/N called out, trying to keep her tone casual. "Could you step out of the room for a minute? I need to get changed."

Matt's eyes shot up from the screen, his expression instantly transforming into one of confusion. His brows furrowed, and his mouth opened slightly as if to ask a question, but no words came out. He just stared at her, blinking a few times as if trying to process what she'd said.

"Wait, what?" He finally managed to utter, sitting up straighter on the bed. "You want me to leave the room? Why?"

Y/N suppressed a grin, keeping her face as neutral as possible.

"I just need some privacy, that's all."

Matt looked even more bewildered.

"But... I've seen you naked like a million times, babe. We live together. Why do you need privacy now?" His eyes were wide, resembling those of a lost puppy. He looked genuinely hurt, and Y/N felt a pang of guilt for a moment, but she pressed on with the prank.

"I don't know, Matt." She said, her voice deliberately casual. "I just feel like I need some space right now."

Matt's confusion deepened, and he swung his legs off the bed, standing up but not moving towards the door. He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes fixed on her with a mix of worry and sadness.

"Are you... are you feeling insecure about something? Because you're so pretty, Y/N. You're perfect. You don't need to feel that way."

The earnestness in his voice made Y/N's heart melt a little. She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"It's not that, Matt. I just... I don't know, I need some time to myself."

Matt took a step closer, his expression pleading.

"But why now? Did I do something to make you feel uncomfortable? Because I swear, I think you're the most beautiful person in the world. You don't need to hide from me."

Y/N could see the genuine concern in his eyes, and she almost caved in. Almost. But she wanted to see just how far she could take this.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong." She said softly. "I just... I just need a moment."

Matt looked utterly defeated. He took another step towards the door, his shoulders slumping.

"Okay, if that's what you want." He said quietly.

Y/N watched as he reluctantly reached for the doorknob, his movements slow and hesitant. She could see the hurt in his eyes, and it was too much for her to bear. Just as he was about to turn the knob, she burst out laughing.

"Matt, wait!" She called, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice. "I'm just messing with you!"

Matt froze, turning to look at her with a mix of confusion and relief.

"What?"

"I'm pranking you." Y/N admitted, still giggling. "I just wanted to see how you'd react."

The confusion on Matt's face slowly gave way to a look of realization, and then he started to laugh. He let go of the doorknob and walked back to her, shaking his head.

"You little brat." He said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. "You really had me worried there."

Y/N grinned up at him, her arms looping around his neck.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. You just looked so lost and confused."

chris:

chris would for sure be confused and upset, I feel he would question you and be a little brat when you insist, rolling his eyes to you and acting like you were crazy LMAO

- here's a small blurb for it -

Y/N stood in front of the closet, rifling through hangers as she searched for something to wear. Chris was sprawled out on their bed, propped up against the headboard with his phone in his hands, glancing up occasionally to watch her.

Y/N pulled a dress from the closet and held it up, examining it critically. After a moment, she turned to Chris, a playful glint in her eye.

"Hey, babe, can you step out for a minute? I need to get changed."

Chris's head snapped up, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"What?" His voice was a mixture of confusion and amusement. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah." Y/N said, trying to keep a straight face. "I need some privacy."

Chris blocked his phone screen, throwing it to the side above the mattress as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up, towering over her with his broad frame.

"Privacy?" He repeated, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "We've been together for how long now? And you suddenly need privacy?" His voice sounded high-pitched.

Y/N bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Yes, Chris. I just... I need a minute to myself."

Chris stepped closer, his presence commanding and gentle all at once.

"Are you feeling okay?" He placed a hand on her cheek, tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes. "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing happened." Y/N replied, her resolve starting to waver under his intense gaze. She knew he could be bossy, but he was also incredibly gentle, which made her expect his reaction eagerly. "I just... I thought it might be nice to have a little space."

Chris let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Space? In our bedroom? While you're changing?" He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You know I’ve seen it all before, right? And that all of it is mine." He gestured for her body with his hands.

"Yes, I know." Y/N said, finally letting a giggle escape. "But, you know, sometimes a girl needs a little mystery."

Chris's eyes sparkled with amusement as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"Mystery, huh?" His voice was low, teasing. "Alright, I'll play along."

Y/N felt the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.

"Thank you." She murmured, her face pressed against his chest.

Chris kissed the top of her head before stepping back.

"Okay, I'll step out. But only for a minute." He said, pointing a finger at her playfully. "I expect you to be dressed when I get back."

"Yes, sir." Y/N replied with a mock salute, trying to keep a straight face.

Chris chuckled, shaking his head as he walked to the door. He paused in the doorway, turning back to look at her.

"You're really something, you know that?"

"I do." Y/N said, grinning. "Now go, I need to get changed."

Chris rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in his gaze.

"Alright, alright. I'm going." He stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Y/N waited a few seconds before she burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room. She could picture Chris standing just outside the door, probably shaking his head at her antics. She quickly slipped out of her current outfit and into the dress she had chosen, adjusting it in the mirror.

A few minutes later, she opened the door to find Chris leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

"Done?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Done." Y/N confirmed, stepping aside to let him back in.

Chris walked in, his eyes immediately scanning her outfit.

"You look beautiful." He said, his voice sincere.