#also something something about being in the lamp but feeling when he's being held and clutched as David falls asleep

[one-silly-cart00nist]

forgive me OP fandom spirit possessed me

People think you’re a Monkey’s Paw type Genie. In actuality, you’re twisting their wishes, not to give them what they want, but to give them what they NEED.

[hamiltonells]

ALWAYS ~ JUDE BELLINGHAM

[sort of based of this request! so thank you for request. please let me know what you think! always welcome to criticism, also let me know if you would like a series based or this little family! 🍓]

[SUMMARY: being soon to be parents is hard especially being so young as well, but Jude and y/n takes everything in their stride]

[WARNINGS: fluff, smut, morning sickness? not edited, swearing spelling mistakes? ]

You’re feet shuffled across the cold kitchen flooring as you soothed your bump with one hand and held a tub of Ben and Jerry's ice cream in the other, Your seven -month bump slightly peaking out of Jude’s shirt.

“Are you still okay for tomorrow, beautiful?” Jude’s voice reaches out over the FaceTime call, as you sitback down on the sofa and put the blanket over your bump.

With Jude being in Madrid, it was decided that you would have dinner at his parents' house in England. Due to your frequent travels between England and Madrid, you rarely have the opportunity to spend time with his family, especially with his mother being in the middle.

you placed the laptop on your lap during the ongoing FaceTime call with Jude, “Yeah all good jude, what time is your flight back” your voice grew tired with every sentence you speak.

“flight is about four in the morning will get back home at seven”Jude's voice making you grow even more tired and relaxed.

You knew it was difficult for Jude to balance being at the top of the football world and being a father at just twenty years of age, but he never complained about it once

It was unexpected for you to become pregnant, and it came as a surprise since you are only nineteen and Jude is twenty years old, but you both took it as your little blessing.

"Is my little one okay? It seems like she's wearing Mommy out" Jude's voice echoes through the FaceTime call, "we're okay, just tired and the usual sickness," your voice tiredly drawls out.

Since discovering you were pregnant, you have been experiencing severe nausea, even if it was morning or night It felt like a constant battle to keep any food down, and the smell of certain foods would instantly trigger your gag reflex.

"Plus, we miss daddy a lot," you said "fuck,don't do that voice, it turns me on" he added with a rough accent, you tutted “better hurry up home then”

"I'll be back home shortly, my Love," he said in his gentle Birmingham accent.

you was sound asleep when you heard the keys jingle in the door, the door open and Jude's footsteps slowly and carefully plodding up the stairs.

You hear Jude carefully open the door to the bedroom where you both share. As you shuffle yourself up to sit against the headboard, you reach for the switch to switch on the lamp, and you switch it on.

"What are you doing awake?" Jude's tired voice broke the silence of the room. You turned to see him rubbing his eyes, looking disheveled and exhausted.

"I missed you, heard you trying to be quiet" you admitted "I'm sorry, I just didn't want to disturb you" he replied, a sheepish smile on his face.

"You could never disturb me. I always want to hear your voice." you said softly, Moving to swing your legs out of bed holding your pregnant belly as you trying to ignore the persistent pressure on your bladder.

You sigh, knowing you have to get out of bed to relieve yourself.

“oi what you doing, let me help” Jude’s voice fills your ears, as he rushes to be by your side, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around you, supporting your weight.

As he presses a soft kiss to your head, Your loving Jude gently helps you out of bed and guides you to the bathroom, making sure you don't trip over your own feet.

Once you’ve emptied your bladder, you get back into bed with a kiss on the cheek from Jude.

You snuggle into the bed sheets, Jude’s bare back now facing you as he’s rambling on about something with his toothbrush in his mouth, you don’t realise your eyes have started to close until you feel the bed dip beside you.

“Sorry baby, didn't mean to wake you again” Jude whispered as he pulled the duvet over the pair of you, with your back facing Jude he slides his arms around you and on to your bump.

"I love you and we both missed you," you murmur softly in response to him, you feel him snuggle into your neck as he presses a soft kiss there.

“hey Jobe”you slightly laugh out his name as he opens the door only to be thrown into a headlock by his own brother, the pair of them shuffling into the living room as they play fight with each other.

You shut the front door and clean your feet on the doormat before untying your shoelaces and removing your shoes.

You enter the living room and see the two brothers sitting on the sofa with a sour expression and Denise giving them a look.

"Y/n, lovely seeing you again” Denise greets you warmly as she glances up and sees you standing in the doorway “you look amazing, not long left now” she hugs you as you smile and look down, “thank you Denise” you gushed as you sat in between Jude and Jobe.

“only a couple more months left, did Jude show you the scan pictures” you continued.

"Yeah, he did," she replied with a smile. "They're amazing, aren't they? I can't believe how much the baby has grown already."

"I know, it's incredible," you said, excitement evident in your voice. "I can't wait to meet him or her."

"As long as they don't look like Jude, they will be alright" Jobe joked “You’re literally like a mini Jude, Jobe” You laughed as you put your hand onto Jude’s thigh.

“It's nice to know that I can actually grow a beard at the moment" Jude mumbles to himself, but loud enough so that Jobe can hear, "you call that a beard" Jobe laughs as he’s dodging Jude's kick.

As Denise calls all of you over for dinner, Jude gets up first to assist you up, putting one hand on your back as he guides you over to the dinner table, he sits next to you his hand on your thigh.

Mark, Jude’s dad is sat across from you, making slight conversation as you start eating your food.

As you took another bite of your food, your stomach churned you felt a wave of nausea wash over you, you reach out to take a sip of your water to hopefully wash it down.

But as the night went on, the feeling only got worse, your hand went straight over your mouth mumbling your apologies as you rush through the house to get to the bathroom.

He trails behind you, apologizing to his family before heading to the bathroom to assist you, gently rubbing circles on your back as you lean over the toilet, feeling him gather your hair up in his hands.

“you okay baby?” His voice soothing you, you lean back into him breathless as the embarrassment washes over you.

”Jude, I am deeply embarrassed. Your mother and your entire family are under the impression that I became sick because of the meal she cooked.“You convey your concern by covering your face with your hands.

“she doesn’t think that, don’t be stupid they know your struggling with your pregnancy” Jude tries to calm your down by wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you both sit in the bathroom floor.

“You okay y/n?” Denise’s worried voice makes you look up, as you see her standing in the doorway “she’s okay mum, bit tired though I think” Jude answers for you as he puts a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'll set up Jude's room for you both, and maybe it'll be best if you stay overnight, I'll bring some lemonade up to help it helped my morning sickness with Jobe" Denise smiles at you .

In a pair of shorts and an old shirt, you lay on the bed of Jude's old bedroom, covered in the familiar smell of his old clothes.

Jude is right next to you, scrolling through his phone on his lap with his hand on your inner thigh as he softly squeezes it, as he as he speaks with Jobe who is laying across the end of the bed, who is also scrolling on his phone.

"How much longer do you have left?" Jobe asks quietly as you open your eyes to his voice. "Just a little over a month, why are you excited, Uncle Jobe?" you playfully respond.

he just hums to your question, focusing back on whatever was on his phone.

The next thing you notice is Jude placing his phone on his bedside table, and then shuffles over and settles his head on your chest while his hands go straight to shirt to lift it up, his hands go to your bump to soothe it.

In your hands, you are gentle touching the ends of his hair gently twisting it and reaching to his scruffy beard gently scratching it as he hums softly to.

When he presses a soft kiss against your bump, your unborn baby gives him a small kick as they responds to his kisses

“Did you feel that?” Jude’s face snaps around to face you as he realizes what has happened “yeah, going to be like there daddy” you smile as you stroke his cheek.

“what? let me feel, move Jude” Jobe says as he rushes to your side and he places his own hand on your bump he pushes Jude's hands away as he presses his own against the bump.

“Jobe, fucking hell it's my kid.” Jude leans down for a for a kiss before getting up and making his way to the bathroom. You giggle as you see Jude's scrunched up face as he gets up and goes to the bathroom.

you’ve just gotten into bed when Jude come in with a glass of water and places it on your bedside table, “mum says goodnight” you hum to answer him while tugging him down to yourself.

"Careful," he laughs as he catches himself on his hands as he's above you, your hands go around his neck as you press a kiss to his lips.

His laughter fades into a soft sigh as he leans in for another kiss, his lips meeting yours once more before he puts his face into your neck and presses a few light kisses.

“You have a good day, baby?” He mumbles into the crook of your neck “the best thank j” you the nickname you call him slides off your tongue easily.

Jude hums“I love you so bloody much”

“I love you more” you giggle even more when be nips your neck.

He seals your lips together once more, using his knees to spread your thighs a bit further apart for him as he spreads them apart.

In the midst of your kiss, he lets out a breathy moan, courtesy of the fingers which are holding his face, interrupting your kiss with a breathy moan.

Jude utilizes the chance to break away and snag a pillow from his side of the bed, urging your hips up by tapping the fluffy thing against your side.

your lift your back up, and he settles it under your lower back and bum to prop you up. Fortunately for him, he has had extensive experience navigating the challenges of your pregnant belly.

he grips your shorts and carefully pulls them off, taking your knickers off and softly pressing a kiss to your thigh in the progress.

Settling between your thighs, Jude giggles when you wraps your legs around his hips and tugs him closer.

Jude’s body hovers over yours , love-sick smiles a breath away from meeting each other, and he drags his fingers through your folds, groaning at how slick you’ve become.

“Oh fuck” you whisper into Jude’s ear, biting back a grin as Jude grips his cock with the fingers that had previously been fondling you.

Jude smiles as their chests are pressed together, enjoying the feeling of their stomachs touching while he guides himself into your slit.

Jude hums appreciatively, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in how warm and gooey you are for him. He'd almost forgotten how it felt to have you this desperate for him and his touch.

“Need to be quiet, Jobe next door” he whispered as a moan ripped though your body.

"Oh it's so good darling," he mumbles to you, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He made a gentle backward slip, pulling the hips back gently as he slipped forward again, his breath stuttering as he dutifully slipped forward once again.

Guiding him, you softly release a moan, lowering one hand to the lower part of his back. With a whisper that tickles his ear, you affirm, "Jude, So so good." Tickled by the sensation, he squirms slightly and responds with a small laugh.

Jude soft with his movements, cautious of the baby between yourself, "made for being wrapped me huh?" And jude thinks nothing ever been truer.

Your arms were made to hold him, youe hands were made for pulling him closer and closer, and your heart was made to completely consume his.

you reached your high before him, rolling your hips up to try and bring him to the edge, grinding down into your heat as his cock twitches and buries deep in your walls.

Jude knows you’re watching his eyes scrunch shut and his gaping mouth curl into a breathy laugh as he comes “sorry baby, too tired for another one” he breathes into your neck.

As you nod and brush the sweaty spots from his forehead to soothe him and just like that, he is already able to feel lighter. He never has to sorry with you, you’ll always be here for him.

[withahappyrefrain]

Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd

Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.

Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.

Words: 4.8K

This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!

When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 

“God, I wish that were me.”

It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 

But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 

It also brought up many questions. 

Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 

Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 

All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 

Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 

Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 

The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 

“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”

“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 

“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”

“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”

“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”

Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 

At least that's what the other thought. 

It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 

“Been awhile?” 

And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 

“Try never.” 

It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 

“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 

“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 

You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 

You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 

“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 

Darn those long limbs. 

“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 

“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 

Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 

College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 

And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 

Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 

“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 

Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 

You rubbed your thighs together. 

“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 

Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 

Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 

Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 

“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 

His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 

Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 

“You…like doing it?” 

The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 

It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 

He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 

“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 

“You don't have to wait.” 

The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 

But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 

You heard me. 

“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 

Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 

“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 

“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 

All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 

Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 

The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 

For what, you couldn't tell. 

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Do you want it to be different?” 

What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?

“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”

He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  

“I asked you second, Robby.”

Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 

“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 

It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 

He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 

“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 

But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 

Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 

“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 

Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 

“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 

It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 

When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 

“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 

Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 

It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 

“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 

“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 

“God, you have terrible taste in men.”

You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 

How could he do that so quickly? 

He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 

When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 

Thank god your parents were on vacation. 

His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 

Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 

“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 

“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 

But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 

“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  

He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 

Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 

“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”

“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 

His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 

Good. 

You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 

God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 

And he had just gotten started. 

He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 

But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 

The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.

“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

“Robby.” 

To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 

Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 

A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 

Was he this thick elsewhere?

You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 

Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 

You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 

But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 

He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 

Why did either of you wait this long? 

You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 

But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 

When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 

He really did enjoy it.

“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 

Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.

Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 

You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 

His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 

The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 

“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 

Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 

Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 

How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 

Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 

Jesus Christ, he was huge. 

“Fuck, she was right.” 

Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 

“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 

Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 

“I….we can unpack this later-” 

You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 

Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 

Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 

“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 

Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 

Darlin. You were his darlin. 

He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 

Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 

Even he didn't know when he would return home. 

It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 

“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 

His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 

“I don't want you to go.” 

“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 

“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 

“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 

Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 

“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 

“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 

Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 

Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 

He was going to need it for the next few months. 

Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 

“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 

The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 

“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 

Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.

“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 

Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 

Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 

“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 

Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 

In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 

His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 

You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 

It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 

“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 

Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 

“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 

Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 

But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 

His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 

That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 

But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 

“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 

Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 

Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 

The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 

His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 

You’d be a damn fool to. 

The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 

After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 

Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 

You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 

He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 

“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 

“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 

The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 

The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 

Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.

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

@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

trouble, m | jjk

... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic

--

“Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Panic coursed throughout his veins.

“I can’t be here.”

And maybe a little bit of arousal too.

“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”

He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.

Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.

Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.

Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.

Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.

Like he said, he was in trouble.

Tomorrow.

The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.

I hope your friends ask about me.

The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.

The devil was in the details.

“Hello? Did you space out again?”

Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”

Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”

“R… Right.”

He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”

Jungkook choked.

-

That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.

Mind a billion thoughts a minute.

You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.

Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.

Or more savagely.

You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.

Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?

Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.

“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.

You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.

Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.

Hah.

You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.

Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.

You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.

You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.

Thanks, brain.

Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.

Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.

Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.

If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.

Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.

Hah, what a bother.

You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.

Yup.

Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.

The looking glass showed you two ways.

You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.

Hmmmm.

Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.

What the–

You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.

At goddamn McDonald’s?

Is no place sacred?

It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.

-

Your fingers framing your face.

You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.

Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.

Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.

“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”

What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.

You envied their desire for silence.

Because you had to be loud.

You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.

“P-Please…”

His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.

“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”

You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.

-

This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.

Actually.

That sounded very dramatic.

And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.

Cut out all that risky business.

It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.

Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.

But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.

She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.

He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.

Holy fuck.

Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.

Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?

And, four.

Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.

He had to cover his ass.

Speaking of.

Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.

She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.

He gasped and screamed under his breath.

The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.

She swallowed.

Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.

“C… Careful…. P-Please…”

Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.

He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.

He did not.

I’m in trouble.

He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?

Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.

“Ready?” she hummed.

“Y- Yeah…”

In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.

Jungkook didn’t even care.

He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”

He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.

“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”

She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.

He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.

Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.

Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.

He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.

“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”

She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”

His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.

“I… I usually last longer…”

“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”

Her sex saved his life.

Her next words murdered him on the spot.

“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”

Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.

-

You could admit it.

You shouldn’t have said that.

But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.

Right?

Wrong.

You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.

Aw, shit.

You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.

Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.

You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.

“Gah!”

“Oh!”

And he grabbed your waist.

Of course, he did.

Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.

You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.

“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”

You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.

Didn’t want to know.

Better not to know.

“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.

“You’re not in my way.”

You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.

“Actually… Please be in my way.”

You froze.

Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.

You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.

“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.

An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.

“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.

You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.

No.

This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Jimin was stifling his giggles.

You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.

“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”

Oh no.

“Stay right there!”

Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”

But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.

“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.

You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”

Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.

Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.

“Uh…”

You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”

“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m the same.”

Your knee touched his.

He looked at you.

Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.

“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”

“What?”

You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.

“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”

People only get into relationships for shitty sex.

Right?

I want to be around him.

“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”

You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.

Close enough for you to remember.

“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”

“Yeah, give me your number.”

-

She asked for it like it was easy.

Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.

“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”

“Wait, give me your number.”

She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.

“I want it,” he breathed.

Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.

Like she was trying to hold back.

“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”

“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.

“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.

-

What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.

Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.

They don’t like you.

You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.

You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.

Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.

Jungkook wanted you.

That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.

He was just waiting for you to start it off.

You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.

I’m in so much trouble, fuck.

You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.

You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

What is this?

You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.

“I c-can’t…”

His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.

“Can’t t-take it anymore…”

Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.

You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.

He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.

He’s too desperate to be a liar.

You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.

I want you.

He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.

“I w-want you…”

He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.

You saw what Jungkook was saying.

He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.

You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…

Until.

“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.

Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.

How could you refuse him?

You just couldn’t.

-

I’m so fucked.

Truly, madly, deeply fucked.

Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.

“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harder?!

Was she trying to kill him?

She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.

He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.

He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.

He let his eyes flicker up.

Gasping, baring his depravity.

She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.

“Cum on me, Jungkook.”

Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.

Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.

Her cum and her perfume.

He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.

Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”

Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.

No, know that she really meant what she said.

His heart fluttered. Took flight.

No.

Soared.

They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.

He was sure.

--

masterpost

[aesthetictarlos]

When Buck and Tommy sleep together, Buck always ends up on his side with Tommy spooning him. They haven't really talked about that, it's just– happened, and Buck may have mentioned that he really, really enjoys being spooned so it's a habit now.

One night, Buck forgets to bring his overnight bag with him so Tommy invites him to just pick some clothes from his closet and that's how Buck notices a weighted blanket in there.

"Hey, Tommy," he says after he retrieves a pair of sleep shorts and a worn out Air Ops tee.

His boyfriend is reading a book, but he immediately lifts his face up and takes off his reading glasses, tilting his head. "Yeah, babe? Come here."

Buck climbs on the bed and scratches the back of his neck. "Uh– I noticed you own a weighted blanket," he says casually, hoping to not sound judgemental or something.

Tommy swallows, then shrugs and takes a breath. "I– I have trouble sleeping sometimes. Nightmares and anxiety. You know– uh, souvenirs from my time in the army. It's not always bad, I just– my therapist suggested to buy one of those, and I thought it was useless and that I didn't need it but I gave it a try and it helped, along with the therapy sessions of course," Tommy rambles, avoiding Buck's gaze like he's embarrassed. "Things got better after a while but sometimes I still struggle and when I have a stressful day or something triggers me I– I use it. It's grounding, and it helps."

Buck pulls Tommy's move and lifts his chin with his index and middle finger. "I'm glad you found something that helps, and you have nothing to be ashamed of, okay?" He says, cupping his face. "Why didn't you tell me? I mean, I love being spooned but we could– I could spoon you or sleep on top of you if that helps."

Tommy's eyes shine under the dim light of the bedside lamp. "I think– I think it could help. I never asked because I don't know how to do that, you know? I'm not used to this, Evan. To have someone who cares, who looks at me and sees something worthy, something good."

"I know the feeling," Buck whispers, tugging Tommy close and hugging him. "But you have me now. I care about you, I love you."

"I know," Tommy echoes, and kisses his birthmark.

That night, Buck sprawls half on top of Tommy, his arm around his waist and his head on his chest, and smiles as Tommy sighs contentedly, allowing himself to be held and protected. It's new, but it's also good.

[this is inspired by a fic I've just finished reading, written by @zeraparker . The title is blanket (go read it!!) and well, she wrote about Tommy owning a weighted blanket which led to me writing this little thing about it because I apparently can't stop writing some Tommy introspection.]

[catiuskaa]

spots on.

SUMMARY: you. hannie. embraces. hugs. cuddles, and other synonyms. desperately needed by yesterday. complaints will be declined and ignored.

REQUESTED! by lovely annonie right here. and god you are so right, fluff + hannie is a clinical need, dare I say biblical! ㅠㅠ<3

CW: you might need a dentist appointment for this one. teeth rotting stuff. i assure you.

WC: 1.1k

A/N: so i’m back from the dead and haven’t written anything since february’s special and have been real low lately. thought fluffy hannie could cheer all of us up! <3

[☆🔹🫂🔹☆]

Han loved watching romantic movies by himself.

It’s not like he didn’t have anyone to watch them with. He had watched plenty of shows either with you or any of the boys.

But ever since he started writing and composing lyrics, a little before he got into college, there was something about those cheesy series that had him unable to stop watching.

His eyes would glow as he stared at the screen before him while he watched, invested in how the protagonist accidentally tripped and fell against the love interest, all over again. Giggling and kicking his feet when they held hands after hours upon hours straight of watching them bicker. Having his chest tightening because the actors were so good that he could almost feel the stars in his eyes, shining just for her.

Jisung loved those old-fashioned scenes. Dancing in the rain, a silly meet cute in a book shop… countless places for one silly little emotion.

Han couldn’t see it, but he also had stars in his eyes. He blinked, feeling his eyes lightly itchy, realizing he had been watching you sleep.

Not in a creepy way, of course. After all, you had wanted to stay over to finish one of the many assignments you two had to do together for some of the mandatory subjects in both of your majors. He sighed, his eyes weirdly fixated on your figure, unable to stop looking at you. Even while sleeping, there was a certain grace to you, as if you were just resting peacefully after a long day. He snorted upon realizing that your face was pressed against the pages of the book, a sneaky drop of drool coming out of your mouth. You looked so cute.

“Get a grip, Han,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head with a smile, giggling.

He rubbed his eyes, staring back to what he had been drafting the past hours. It was clearly obvious that his sleepiness was getting to him, because it was getting harder to decipher what the characters he was typing meant.

Suddenly, there was a hand lightly scratching your back.

You flinched in your place, sitting back up.

“It’s just me,” Han said softly. You blinked so slowly it almost looked like you had blinked one eyelid at a time.

“…awake. ‘M awake.” You brushed off drool from the corner of your mouth, to which Jisung chuckled lightly.

“Okay, sleepyhead. Time to go to bed.”

“Eh?”

“Bed, silly. We should have some sleep. We’re both doozing off.”

Bed? Judging by the time that the clock in Han’s apartment said, it was far from being that late, which was proved true when Hannie picked you up —God knows how, because he showed no signs of struggling— and brought the “sleepyhead” over to his room, that even after turning off the lamp on the bedside table, the windows let in light that the Sun had yet to take away while leaving space for the Moon to beam in a couple of hours.

He grunted lowly when he laid you down on the bed, which had little to do with your weight and much more with how you pulled him towards you.

“Hannie.” You mumbled sleepily.

“You’re close to cranky,” he smiled. “You haven’t had your coffee, and you fell asleep doing our assignment.” He sighed, moving stray hairs off your face, his hand lingering on its side, stroking your cheek. “Wouldn’t want to get on your cranky side.” Jisung teased with a tenderness only showed in your presence, not in his usual teasing, not with the rest of the world. Somehow, time spent with Han seemed like the world itself stopped spinning, waiting for you two and catch up later.

“…no.” You whined. His hand still rested on your face. Unusual. You didn’t want him to move it. “I don’t want to steal your bed.”

Unconciously, you moved closer to the warmth that his palm brought.

“It’s ok. You came here walking, and there’s no way I’m letting you leave now, not at this time.”

You frowned at him, almost pouting. You purposefuly resigned to argue, sleepily accepting his win over a silly discusion you could’ve won. But it was much better if it meant that he would keep being so… tender. You two were dating, yes, but it was quite strange, because even if you both knew about each other’s feelings, staying together had been more of a silent agreement.

Yet in that moment, seeing him smile, dark boba coloured eyes sheepishly and momentarily hidden by it, turning them into happy crescent-shaped moons, it was easy to figure asking was worth a shot.

“…stay w’me?”

His heart skipped more beats than he could count.

This hadn’t been planned. Well. Certainly not this way.

“Stay?” His tone of voice had lowered.

You hummed, smiling lightly. Your hand creeped up to his, the one that rested close to your face. In a sleepy move on your side, tantalizing for Jisung, your fingers tickled his skin, from his forearm to his palm, following a gentle path until your hand held his, and you pulled him towards you again, with more care this time.

Jisung could hear his mate’s low voice in his head, full with its classic australian accent.

“Ain’t no way she’s not head over heels for you too. I’d bet money on it,” Felix had chuckled, sipping the beer Han had handed him. “You guys are just blind cunts when you wanna be. Affectionately, of course,” he had added after seeing Jisung squint at him.

Han struggled to get comfortable in his now seemingly small bed. Of course it was small for two people. It had to be, because if you two were to fit in the space avaliable, it would mean that-

“…cold…”

The ruffles coming from how you then shifted on the bed were no match to how loud Han’s heartbeat sounded on his ears.

Your arm slid under his, lying limply on the curve of his waist, the other cocooned in the small space you settled in between you as you slotted your face in the crook of his neck.

thump, thump, thump.

He forced himself to relax.

“…how are you so warm, Ji?”

He had no fucking idea.

“Warm?”

You nodded, your hair tickling his face gently.

“…cozy. Like… a really cute ‘n little… weighted blanket.” You sighed, further relaxing into him, sending a chill to his spine as your warm breath brushed against his neck.

He was so fucking grateful for being so.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” He stated with a silly smile, a blush clearly obvious on his cheeks. He tackled you, and the two of you filled the room with giggles, his arms taking your body and settleing it on top of him.

You melted in his arms. “I missed you.”

He smiled, his hands playing with your hair. “I was only away for the weekend.”

“…don’t care.” His heart threatened to carve through his chest or melt when you tightened your hold on him, then tugged the blanket closer, covering you, thus covering him too.

He settled a strand of your hair behind your ear, noticing little moles in the way.

“I hadn’t noticed these ones before,” he mumbled in a soft voice that could almost lull you to sleep.

You hummed, not bothering to answer.

“I’ve heard somewhere,” he started soothingly, “that moles appear in the spots where, in your past life, you were kissed the most.”

With a sweetness that rottened your teeth, he pecked the small coloured spot in your neck. Then, he followed a short pattern, kissing the one under your ear, then another one in your shoulder, then finished off with the one in your cheek.

You smiled. “You don’t have any moles, do you?” He shook his head sideways, and you chuckled, brushing your nose with his sweetly.

“You better stay put, Ji,” you beamed cheekily. “I’ll make new moles on you.”

His chest tightened, and he beamed, chuckling as you peppered kisses all over his face.

A love scene like the movies.

His new favourite one.

[☆🔹🫂🔹☆]

catiuskaa, may 2024 ©

~Kats, who has to apologize for being dead for so long (and doesn’t quite have an excuse for it), and also has to tHANK ALL OF YOU BC WE’RE 1k FOLLOWERS IN BAKFBQIFNQKFKQK THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS SRSLY I CAN’T EVEN BEGIN WJKFBAKF <333333

[itacats]

2 Lines Means Positive (mini-series)

FT: Simon Riley x reader

Warnings: pregnancy, worries of repeating the past/being a bad father, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: Baby fever is in full swing this last little while, and I thought why not plague you all with a mini-series! There will be more to come for some of the other TF141 gang, but they'll just have to wait their turn.

SUM: Simon, a man haunted by a turbulent past, finds an unexpected moment of peace in a quiet Manchester evening. When you call him into the kitchen with life-changing news, he’s forced to confront the shadows he thought he’d left behind.

Soap MacTavish John Price Gaz Garrick

Whispers of Hope

In the heart of Manchester, the rain poured steadily, creating a rhythmic backdrop that seemed to wash the world in a muted symphony. The room was bathed in a cozy, golden glow from the dim lamps scattered around, their light reflecting off the dark wood accents and worn leather couch. Shadows flickered gently, forming a mosaic of memories on the walls—memories that Simon Riley could never quite leave behind. These walls had seen him at his most vulnerable, his most broken, but they had also held the echoes of laughter, soft conversations, and the comfort that you both had woven into this place over time.

From his seat on the couch, Simon watched you glide through the kitchen with the kind of ease and grace that he found both foreign and comforting. There was an air of simple beauty about you as you moved, your sleeves rolled up, strands of hair slipping down past your ears, framing your face. You didn’t need to look up to feel his gaze; the warmth of his presence filled the room like a tangible force, blending with the aromas of herbs and simmering vegetables. It was these small moments—your content hum, the sizzle of food in the pan—that painted the portrait of a life he never thought he’d be part of.

You had pieced together a life of quiet sanctuary from the fragments of two turbulent pasts. Here, the ordinary became sacred: the unhurried evenings, the lazy weekend mornings, the feeling of safety that had been so hard to come by. It was fragile yet profoundly resilient, like the ivy that grew stubbornly through cracks in the cobbled streets outside. Every meal, every tender moment shared was a testament to your joint determination to build something out of nothing, to push back the darkness with a relentless light.

As he rose from the couch, crossing the worn wooden floor toward the kitchen, Simon felt a swell of emotions that had taken him years to understand, much less articulate. In the delicate frame of the person he loved, he saw a reflection of his own transformation—a man haunted by wars, scars, and regrets, now finding himself on the cusp of something he never believed he deserved: hope. The shadows in his mind receded a little as he approached, drawn forward by your voice.

“Simon! Can you come here for a second?” Your voice held an edge of anticipation, soft yet weighted, as if bracing for the impact of the moment. He quickened his pace, heart drumming in sync with the rain outside, a mixture of curiosity and unspoken worry bubbling beneath the surface.

“Sure, love. What’s up?” His words were casual, but his heart pounded as he watched you, a small plastic stick in your hand, held with the care and fragility of a message that could alter everything. Your eyes flickered with something unreadable—a mix of wonder and anxiety—and it was a look he’d come to know well: the way you gathered strength before sharing something you held close to your heart.

As you looked up, drawing a breath, the world around Simon slowed. All the battlefields, all the sleepless nights, all the walls he had built around himself felt oddly insignificant. He could feel the gravity of this moment settling over him, seeping into his bones, as the words left your lips:

“I’m pregnant.”

The words reverberated through the kitchen, hanging in the air like an incantation. For Simon, it was as if time had splintered. A swirl of thoughts collided within him—visions of childhood, flashes of solitude, echoes of a life filled with struggle and survival. But above all, one thought loomed larger than the rest: Could he be the father this child would need? He had always thought of parenthood as a distant, almost impossible concept—a role reserved for men without his past.

His gaze flickered to yours, searching for the strength he suddenly felt slipping through his grasp. “Wow…” he whispered, the word barely escaping. Simon could feel the old fears creeping in, familiar and unwelcome. His own childhood flickered in his mind like a reel of dark images, a life marked by pain and isolation. How could he, someone so steeped in darkness, nurture a life so fragile and innocent?

You stepped toward him, your hand reaching for his arm, grounding him with a gentle pressure. “Simon? Are you okay?” The tremor in your voice softened as you met his gaze, unwavering, clear—a lighthouse guiding him back to shore.

He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing as he combed a hand through his dark hair, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. “I just… I don’t want to screw this up. I’m afraid, love. Afraid of what I carry inside—afraid that I’ll let you both down.” His voice trembled, each word revealing cracks in the armor he’d worn for so long.

You held his gaze, firm and sure, your hand rising to rest over his chest, right above his heart. “Simon, you’re more than your past. You’ve faced so much, but you’ve never faced it alone, and you won’t now. We’ll do this together.”

In that moment, Simon felt an indescribable warmth—a kind of healing light that began to seep through his defenses. Here, in the heart of your small kitchen, surrounded by the comforting scent of dinner and the quiet rain outside, he felt something rare: hope. His world, once defined by battles and shadows, was now tinged with the promise of something softer, something worth fighting for in a different way.

“I want to be there for you—and the baby,” he confessed, feeling the weight of the words settle like an oath in his heart. It was a declaration, one spoken not from fear but from love.

“And you will be,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek, the warmth in your eyes a mirror to his own. For once, Simon wasn’t haunted by the ghosts of his past but guided by the love in your gaze.

He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you, feeling the reassurance and strength of this newfound purpose. Together, you stood amidst the rain’s gentle rhythm, a silent promise lingering between you. For the first time, Simon Riley felt a light within him strong enough to break through any darkness—a light he would carry forward, forged not by fear, but by a love that would lead him into the unknown.

Here's the current post schedule with some upcoming stories to look forward to!

[roosterforme]

I just saw the post about Darlin joking about him using a walker if they had a third baby.

I feel like Jake would have a real big doubt and guilt in himself one night about being too old for her. Maybe one day they're playing with their boys when the two are maybe like 6 and 3 and Darlin says she misses them being really small and now they kick and squeall when they get kisses because it's like icky.

That night maybe Jake is sitting on the side of the bed as Darlin gets in and she senses something is wrong and he asks her if she was with a younger guy would she have more kids as he feels he's holding her back. He definitely has a bit of self doubt as the daggers always tease him about being the old man of the house.

Btw love I adore your little blurbs for this fam. Today is probably the day I might catch up on a bunch but they are amazing 😍

Oh, ouch. Yes. It would hit him sometimes that maybe certain things would be easier or better for you if you had a partner closer to your own age. (angsty below)

Your husband was one week away from turning forty-seven, and he just absolutely rocked your world in bed. "I like it when you do that thing with your tongue," you whispered, staring up at the ceiling as he sat on the edge of the bed, naked.

His back was to you now, but you heard him chuckle. "And I like it when you do that thing with your tongue."

You rolled toward him and groaned. You were going to be sore tomorrow. "I'll go check on the boys before we go to sleep," you said, kissing him when you stood.

After your robe was securely tied, you walked quietly in to check on both Liam and Asher who were sound asleep. Then you went back to your bedroom where Jake had barely moved an inch.

"They looked extra cute when they're asleep and not fighting over Legos or eating all of the food in the kitchen," you mused, dropping your robe again. "I kind of miss when they were tiny and didn't know how to argue."

Jake cleared his throat. "Would you want to have another baby? If you could?"

You stared at him, unable to read the expression on his handsome face. It was closed off. And you were confused.

"I don't understand," you told him, placing your hands nervously on your hips, suddenly very aware of how naked you were.

"Just answer me. Would you have wanted more than two? Would you have wanted to try for a girl?"

You swallowed hard and shook your head slowly. "You got a vasectomy. I wouldn't even be able to get pregnant again."

Jake ducked his head and looked at the floor. "I wanted the vasectomy, because I'm already the oldest parent in Asher's school pick up line."

You took a step closer. "Who cares about that? You're also the hottest dad in Asher's school pick up line."

He looked up at you and whispered, "Will you just answer the question?"

"I already did!" you snapped. "We decided about the vasectomy together. Last year. You didn't make the decision alone, Jake." His eyes were fixed on your face as you said, "I have never once looked at you and thought you were too old to do anything. I didn't want more kids. Some days I can barely handle the two we have."

You burst into tears, crossing your arms over your chest as you turned to get your robe from the floor again. Jake's arms were around you, pulling you toward the bed, and you let him take you there. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Darlin'," he whispered. "I just hate the idea that I could be holding you back."

"You're not," you sobbed, face buried against his neck as he pulled the covers over both of you. "All you do is make everything better. The boys and I woudn't want it any other way."

Jake held you until you felt calmer, his fingers trailing up and down your arm. "I won't doubt my wife again," he whispered, turning off the lamp.

"Don't you dare."

You fell asleep to the sound of the ocean and the feel of Jake's big hand on your back.

[lxcalmenace]

hiii! I saw a video on tiktok about some girl getting upset that she wasn't there with her bf when he was kid and i thought maybe you could do that with rin isagi and hiori maybe

this is my first ask and also English's not my first language im sorry if it's not detailed enough

Wish I was there for you

Pairings < Rin and Hiori > X gn!reader (separate)

tw: Just these babies getting reminded about their pasts which later turns into fluff. Oh and, spoiler warning on Hiori's past!!

It was a rather silent night, you and Rin chilling in your bed comfortably. He was watching some match analysis on his phone while you were laying down next to him, reading your book. The small bed side lamp illuminated the room as the sound of soft breathing and the occasional sound of you turning the page was heard. When suddenly, it hit you. Rin never admitted about wanting to be comforted or to be held close during rough days, it wasn't very likely of him. He had built these walls around him, to which he'd only let you break through them. That was the typical Rin Itoshi for you. Being always there for him, to support him- but then you began to ponder about his past. You knew that his relationship with his older brother wasn't on the best terms, you know how much he despises Sae but there was also a time when Sae left Rin completely wrecked, right when Rin needed him the most. You knew how much it scarred Rin and your heart aches to think that Rin probably broke down- no one by his side to comfort him, no one to tell him that it was going to be alright. It broke him to the point that he was unwilling to trust, eventually pushing everyone away due to all of the burden he was carrying silently.

You turned over to face Rin and softly called out his name. Turning of his phone, he put it aside- his attention all on you now.

"Rin, do you ever wish if someone would've been there for you in your past?" he raised an eyebrow as you continued, "It hurts to know about how much you had to go through. I really wish I could've been there for you; to comfort you and to ease your suffering, even just by a little bit."

The room went silent, knowing that you had stuck a chord somewhere inside Rin. His face showed no emotions, but he was unable to meet your gaze. You both sat in this silence for a while, no words uttered.

Finally, he let out a long breath, "It's alright," His voice was low yet stern, "Past is past now, it does not matter to me anymore. The only thing that matters now is me defeating Sae."

You opened your mouth to say something, but Rin shushed you, signaling the end of conversation. You wanted to tell him that it was unfair, that he didn't had to go through all that, but sensing the tension in the air, you decided to stay silent. If Rin wasn't ready to talk about it, then you were in no position to argue back. You plopped back on your bed with a sigh as he dimmed the lights and pulled the covers over the both of you.

Maybe not yet, but one day, Rin knows that he will open up to you freely, talk about his problems, rant to you. But for now, he did not wish to bother you by his own problems. So, he simply just pulled you closer and kissed your forehead.

"Goodnight my love," Rin pecked your lips, "Thank you for everything you have done for me," he whispered.

It was raining outside. The small pitter patter against the windows and the distant voices from the TV, accompanied by you cuddling with your boyfriend on the couch gave birth to the perfect atmosphere. Hiori was playing video games while you were scrolling through tiktok. Everything was going well, until you came across a video of a girl being upset over the fact that she couldn't be there for her boyfriend when he was young. And that, made you put down your phone and really think about it. Your boyfriend always had a smile etched over his face, he barely talked about his feelings and thus suppressing them over time. Eventually after you both started dating, you always encouraged him to talk about his problems and regularly let him know that you were there for him. But what about the time when you weren't so present in his life? You remembered him telling you about his parents once; how they used to put him under so much pressure to achieve perfection, even stretching up to the point of divorce. Oh, how hard it must've been for his little soul. [ :( ]

You were unsure about bringing this up. Yet, hesitatingly you whispered, "Baby, can we talk a little?"

His curious blue eyes met yours and he muttered a little 'yeah?', waiting for you to continue.

"You know how your parents always pressured you to be the best, to live up to their expectations- wasn't it hard for you as a child? I mean it must be so traumatic for you to always be under the burden," you paused, watching his expressions carefully.

"Yeah, it was a bit traumatic I guess.." he trailed off.

"Really wish I would've been there for you, Yo. I would've definitely helped you to relieve some of the burden, so you could've leaned a bit on me," you look at him with a glint of sadness in your eyes.

Hiori noticed the shift in your mood instantly, "But angel, I didn't even knew ya back then," he chuckled- trying to lift up the mood.

"I know! I'm just sa-"

He pulled you in for a kiss, cutting you out.

"You don't have to worry about the past m'kay?" he smiled warmly, "You're here now and that's enough f'me. You understood?"

Hiori slinged an arm around you and pulled you closer; capturing you in his embrace, as he resumed his game and continued playing it.

Tysm anon for this request, I hope you like these small scenarios. I couldn't do Isagi :( (writer's block sucks)

Also, so sorry if this is ooc!! Not proofread so ignore if there are any mistakes please!

ty for reading!!

[imaginesforeons]

Can we get some more stuff with your yandere! nanami? it could be anything like even your headcanons about how he treats his darling ! I really like the way you write him!

Yes!! Any excuse to write my man. I hope this is ok, and if you want more, feel free to ask.

Not Your Room (Yandere!Nanami x Reader)

~You wake up somewhere completely foreign to you~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Vomiting but that's because reader is dizzy.

Word Count: 1,178

Reqs are OPEN! At the top of my page you can see what fandoms I write for, so DM me with your ideas!

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

You woke up in a bed that was not your own.

The first thing you’re aware of is a weight across your legs, then a warmth around your body, and, finally, the plush sensation of sheets and pillows cradling you. It was almost enough to drag you back down to the impossibly deep sleep you fought your way out of. Almost, but not quite, because this was not your bed.

You took a moment to breathe, bracing yourself before opening your eyes, only to wish you’d kept them shut.

You weren’t in your bed, and you were definitely not in your room. All of it was completely foreign, so unlike your own home that you might as well have stepped into a separate country for how unfamiliar everything was. The room was dimmed with only one lamp on, but you could see off-white walls and beige curtains, no colorful accents but for the single blue throw draped over a chair in a corner. It was like the owner had never dared impress any of their own personality into the room, and you had woken up in an interior design catologue. 

Could you be hospitalized? If you were, wherever they had put you was surely thousands of dollars out of your budget. It was bland, yes, but just from a single glance you could tell that everything was top quality.

You forced your body to sit up with a grunt, limbs oddly heavy, casting your eyes around the room, searching for your things, only to pause. Beside a door was a pair of shoes; a pair of men’s shoes. If you were in a hospital, it would make no sense for a man to leave his shoes in your room, not if they were a doctor or visitor. You swallowed, and this time looked around the room with new eyes. Other than the shoes, you saw a bedside table with a book resting on the top, a suitcase set on the chair that held the blue afgan, and opposite from you bed was a door cracked open just enough for you to see a bathroom rug.

You weren’t in a hospital, you were in someone’s house. You stiffened, and you found yourself fisting your hands into the white sheets beneath you.

Your panic was cut off when you heard the creak of a doorknob turning. Jerking, you slid from the bed to stand and hide from whoever was coming, but instead you nearly crumpled to the ground. A sudden dizziness overtook you, black speckled at the corners of your vision, and a rushing pounded through your ears, deafening and clouding everything around you.

“-sy. Take deep breaths.” A voice, also male, broke through to you, and you felt calloused hands guide you back to the bed.

“Where-” You paused, rubbing your temples, a headache building up in your skull. “Where am I?”

You glanced up and gasped. Brown eyes behind wire glasses, blond hair professionally slicked back, a sharp face; you knew this man. Every Thursday, you’d go to a bakery a block from your house, treating yourself to something sweet. Exactly at eight in the morning, the man in front of you would walk in, buy the same thing every time, then leave. Never had the two of you shared words, or smiles, or anything more than a quick glance. What was he doing here?

“Stay calm,” your bakery aquiantance said as he guided your head back to the pillows. “You’ve been through a trauma.”

“A trauma?” you muttered. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t give you all the details yet. For now, just focus on relaxing.”

You found yourself lying back in bed, staring at the ceiling, mind trying to process what was being said yet falling oddly flat.

Suddenly, your vision was obscured as he reached for your face, and you didn't have any time to flinch back before his hands grabbed your head. Big was the only word that came to mind, before fingers were gently massaging at your scalp.

That felt nice. Your eyes started to droop, and you felt yourself sinking into that strange fog you had just struggled from. You were nearly asleep, gentle, strong fingers massaging your neck, when a thread of anxiety worked its way through you.

“My parents!” you exclaimed, sitting back up again. “I have to call them! Where’s my phone?”

The blond man sat back, dropping his hands from your face. “I’m afraid you can’t do that.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, then winced. Your head was hurting again.

“I mean you can’t have your cellphone or any other electronics without my supervision.” He put his hand on your sternum, urging you back, but you pushed him away.

You thrashed, throwing off your blankets. “What the fack does that mean?” you snapped, swinging your feet over the bed. “Where’s my phone? Where’s the rest of my shit?”

“Easy,” he soothed. “Too much movement might make you dizzy. I’m not sure how you’ll react with the drugs.” 

You felt an icy cold work its way down your back.

“You drugged me?” you hissed. Now that he’d admitted to it, you did feel heavy, dizzy in a way that not even alcohol could accomplish. Even the anger you felt towards the man for what he didn’t was only there for a moment before guttering out, like a weak flame fed with damp wood.

“With propofol, yes. It’s a common anesthetic used in hospitals and other healthcare settings.”

You had to get out of here. You had to run. Stomach churning, you rolled to the opposite end of the bed, away from him, falling to the ground with a thump. You whimpered, clutching at your head. It felt like you were drowning in cotton.

Arms wrapped around you, lifting you into their hold effortlessly. A horrible vertigo washed over you, and you gripped the man’s shirt collar in front of you to at least try to stay in control.

“‘m gonna puke,” you mumbled. And then you did. All over the plush carpet.

You could feel a sigh travel through the man’s body as he stepped carefully over your mess, carrying you towards the bathroom.

“If you felt sick you should have told me earlier,” he said. It made you feel like you were being scolded.

“If you hadn’t drugged me I wouldn’t be sick,” you snapped, before being set on a toilet seat. “I have bad reactions to propofol. It makes me nauseated.”

It was hard to be angry at him. It was hard to be anything; it felt like you had an empty hole in your chest, swallowing up every emotion you tried to muster. It was the propofol, surely. A garbage can was settled between your feet before a cool hand, strong and steady, massaged the delicate nape of your neck.

You stared into the empty can, and tried to cherish the feeling. As soon as the drugs wore off and you got your lucidity back, things would be infinitely worse. Soon, everything would be real.

[cyn-write]

"Heaven's Light"

Summary: Rollo has been eyeing y/n since her arrival, seeing you as the diamond amongst coals. At the Ball, his feelings culminate into a confession, but he didn't expect her reply...

Pairing: Rollo×F!Reader

Warnings: Y/n is lonely and ignored by NRC boy, first love, possible OOC, not edited, Lots of Fluff, the Rollo brain rot is real

Note: This is a lot longer than I intended! I hope everyone going through Rollo brain rot enjoys and if you are interested in reading an SFW or NSFW epilogue, let me know! If you would like to read the other parts in what I am calling my "Glomas Series" I will put links below! "She Blazes Me Beyond all Control" ft. Azul, Idia, and Malleus "I Feel Her, I See Her " ft. Riddle, Deuce, Ruggie, and Jamil

"Who might you be miss?"

Y/n gave a kind smile and nodded her head in greeting "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you," she stayed next to Trein as she was there as his assistant.

"Yuu is our magicless perfect of Ramshackle. She will be working as my assistant throughout the trip," Trein added.

She felt Rollo's eyes scan her, and, unlike his greetings to the rest, he held out a hand. Being poilet, she offered her hand as well, and he lifted it to his lips, grazing her knuckles quickly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, y/n. I understand it must be difficult, being surrounded by mages every second of the day. I hope you get a chance to relax this trip." Y/n blushed at the motion and bit her lower lip. All the while she could feel some of the others glaring daggers at her and Rollo.

"I-I'll do my best..." Y/n replied. Throughout the entire trip, Rollo seemed to gravitate towards y/n and used every excuse to isolate her from the group. They chatted about her difficulties at NRC and at the festival. As they chatted, she felt more and more drawn to the Student Council President

This all accumulated at the Masquerade. Rollo had given Y/n a proper dress for the occasion instead of the attire his counsel had chosen. The red fabric decadently adorned her figure and stunned the NRC boys with its beauty. But before any of them could ask for a dance, Rollo stole y/n away. He whisked her to the dance floor, and they started chatting.

It all felt like a dream, a wonderful, beautiful dream. Even though Rollo had tried to destroy magic, he was also the only person during all her time in Twisted Wonderland that she felt seen. The boys had always pushed her to the side, even when she was the only one whom the fire lotuses couldn't hurt but instead of including her in the plan, she was put on babysitting duty. Even at NRC, she was the one who dealt with the overblots, yet never thanked or even recognized as a full student.

Then she met Rollo and ever since their meeting, he treated her like a person. He recognized all she did for the boys and thanked her for her contributions. He even set aside time to show her around. Y/n never believed in "love at first sight," but ever since Rollo's lips grazed her knuckles, she felt her heart do somersaults around the stoic 3rd year.

Now, he asked her to dance. She felt like the Glass Princess dancing with her prince and just like the Glass Princess, she knew this would only last until Midnight. By this time tomorrow, she would be back at NRC. Back to being invisible.

As the song came to a close, she thought her night was over, but he must have been thinking about the same thing.

"Y/n, can I show you something?" He asked as the music quieted for a small interlude before the next song began. His face may appear as stone, but his blue eyes quivered. He was nervous.

Y/n nodded, "Sure."

Rollo, being a gentleman, offered her his arm. Determined to enjoy the moment, y/n leaned into Rollo as he escorted her out of the ballroom and up to the empty balcony on the upper level of the ballroom. The sun was set and the night sky was stunning, but what Rollo wanted to show y/n was the city at night. It was like a starry night itself as the city lamps and lights twinkled. It was stunning.

"Rollo, this is beautiful..."

"Y/n, stay here with me." Y/n turned to look at Rollo in shock and confusion, "Those fools at NRC do not deserve your purity. They treat you like a ghost. And I-" Rouge graced his pale cheeks and he looked into her (e/c) eyes, "I-I... I can't bear the thought of you leaving. You belong here. with me." He places his cold hand atop hers, "Let this be your sanctuary."

Y/n's heartbeat rose into her throat and before she could properly think what he said through, her heart spoke first, "Yes."

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

Rollo was prepared for her to shoot him down, uprooting her heart like they did his flowers. What he wasn't prepared for her to accept.

Nothing this Halloween went as planned. His plot to destroy magic failed, Malleus and the fools at NRC destroyed his flowers, and y/n waltzed into his life.

He had read about true love and deemed it poppycock. There was no such thing. Then he saw her in her NRC uniform and his heart felt like it leaped out of his chest and into the sky. She was a pure flame burning in his chest and distracting him. He tried to ignore it, but any time he saw her that plan quickly became impossible.

He reworked his original plan to ensure she would be unharmed and fall into his arms at the same time. The first part of his plan failed, but he couldn't lose her. She was the last flame he had left.

Rollo was so sure of himself at first. He sent her a new dress, a proper one that enhanced her beauty far more than the one his counsel chose, he fixed the ballroom himself, he made sure to be her first dance, he read up on how to court a lady, prepared what he would say to her as they danced, and how he would ask her to stay and be his. Though much like his original plan with the fire lotuses, the moment he saw her. She was stunning, so stunning that he almost forgot everything he prepared. Thankfully, he regained his composer before he asked her to dance.

Now he felt his nerves resurface as it came time for him to confess. All his confidence and preparation failed to calm his beating heart. Thoughts raced through his mind as they walked to the balcony. What if she says no? What if she rejects me? What if I misread all of our interactions? he thought as they went out into the cool night air. Should I just keep my mouth shut? Abandon ship before it sinks...

Then he saw her eyes light up as she saw the city at night. The lights aglow, the soft mummer of music coming from the ballroom, and he knew he had to try.

"Y/n, stay here with me." He blurted out before he could convince himself otherwise, he decided to let his heart speak for once and not let his head take control. ""Those fools at NRC do not deserve your purity. They treat you like a ghost. And I-" he paused for a second and felt the fire in his chest grow brighter and brighter, "I-I... I can't bear the thought of you leaving. You belong here. with me." He places his cold hand atop hers, "Let this be your sanctuary."

Silence. He averted his eyes and clenched his handkerchief in his pocket.

His doubts returned and he prepared himself for rejection. He started to form a retraction in his mind, but she, yet again, surprised him.

"Yes." She said, her (e/c) eyes glimmered like stars and her voice rang like the Bell of Solace. "I-I'll stay with you."

Rollo felt his heart stop. He looked her in the eyes again and squeezed her hand. "You mean it." He removed his free hand from his handkerchief and placed it tentatively on her cheek, "Y-you'll stay?"

She placed her hand stop his and leaned into his touch, "I do." He could see tears forming in the corner of her eyes, "I don't want to leave you either."

On pure impulse, he pulled her into a tight embrace. Half of him was convinced that she would disappear if he let her go, and the other half was relieved. She felt the same as him. She wanted to be with him.

"Rollo, you're shaking," She commented as she returned his embrace. He didn't realize he was shaking so much. It must be the relief of her accepting his proposal. She looked up at him and placed a hand on his cheek. Her skin was warm and comforting.

"I guess I am..." He said and placed his own hand on top, "This is just what you do to me, my Flame."

She giggled and her melodious laugh made him respond with one of his own. "Do I?" she responded.

"Yes," He gently moved a strand of her hair away from her face and his eyes landed on her lips. Those beautiful red lips beckoned his own, "You have set my heart ablaze and it makes me want to listen to my heart instead of my head."

"And what is your heart telling you to do now?" She asks in a teasing manner.

"To do this," He leaned in and kissed her. it was gentle, nervous at first. Then as he realized she was reciprocating, he deepened the kiss. They parted for a moment to catch their breath before claiming another kiss, then another. Solidifying their love above the City of Flowers.

Rollo may have failed to rid the world of magic, but he found his new Heaven's Light.

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

Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing an NSFW part 2 or any other request, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

[ebodebo]

Cat and Mouse

NSFW CONTENT

—ghost is being chased by the police and just so happens to be sleeping with one of them. of course, she doesn't know that the man she's been sleeping with is also the man her department has been trying to find, but he does.

—ghost x f!reader

—2k+

wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !

The night sky was aglow by the bright street lamps, showcasing the streets demure appearance. A blanket of stars coaxing the sky above and the occasional barking of a faraway dog broke the silence of the night. You should be asleep, but the all-too-familiar bench that you took refuge on in the night when you found yourself rustling in your sleep called your name. 

You held a cup of warm tea in your hand while the other grasped around a book you had brought out there. Though, you were too enamored with the simplicity of the streets to open it.

It was comforting to sit and just exist. It was a nice change of pace from the exhilaration and adrenaline that comes with your job. It was kind of expected of you to join the police force since your father had joined the force years ago, eventually getting himself promoted to chief of police, and your brother following suit. 

You didn't mind the expectations, though. You found pleasure in helping citizens and keeping the streets clean. You never really considered it a job; it was more of fulfilling your duty. However, about a month ago, it started to feel like a job.

Your brother was KIA while staking out a trafficking organization downtown. He died saving the life of a fellow officer. It was not only a grave, devasting loss to your family but for the whole city. A selfish part of you wished he wasn't so selfless. A selfish part of you resented the other officer for being able to leave the scene alive and not in a body bag. But, the thoughts subsided when you would see the officer with one of his little girls clinging to his leg and the other resting on his pregnant wife’s hip. You realized that your brother hadn't just saved a police officer that day; he saved an entire family. 

"It's a bit cold. No?" A gruff voice rang next to you, absolving you from your thoughts. You looked up at him, Simon. The man who you had been spending your nights with. But, make no mistake, he wasn't yours. He didn't belong to anyone. He said he couldn't.

"A little, but I have tea to warm me up." You smile up at him, taking a sip of your tea. He nods, then opens his door slightly to grab something hanging on the catch-all hooks, as you call them. 

"For when the tea gets cold." He steps in front of you to gently lay one of his jackets on your lap, engulfing your legs. You give him a smile and curl your legs under you. 

"Can I sit, or is two a crowd?" He questions, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You'd think this was your first interaction with each other. But, ever since the death of your brother, he's been treading lightly. He doesn't want to upset you or be in your space without your permission.

"It's always been three, Simon." You lightly laugh, gently patting the seat next to you. He accepts the invitation and carefully sits on the wooden bench beside you, delicately laying his arm behind you and draping it over your shoulder.

"You know. I thought it would get easier." You pause, leaning closer, laying your head on his shoulder. "But, it's still hard." You breathe out, feeling a tear stream down your cheek. 

He hums, so you know he's listening, as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. Although most find comfort in people consoling them and telling them everything is going to be alright, you find comfort in knowing he's near you and hears you. Even if it's just a kiss or a lingering touch, knowing he's right there eases your mind.

"And on top of that, the guy I told you about is back." You groan out. Referring to the vigilante, who had recently made his revival after going dormant for the last month. Before he went inactive, he employed acts of murder, kidnapping, and threats of violence to rid all sorts of evil. A uniquely brutal band of justice, indeed. Traffickers, abusers, predators. He dealt with some of the most depraved, wicked souls. But, people nonetheless. Meaning the police couldn't turn a blind eye to this. It was murder after all. Doesn't matter if they had it coming. 

The police department tried to figure out his next move, but he somehow knew all their moves. It was almost like someone was feeding him all their information. They hoped there wasn't a snake in the grass—a person supplying him with all the necessary details he needed to stay untouched and have his getaway prepared. 

The guy in question was Simon, but you didn't need to know that. He also didn't need to tell you that his intel was unknowingly coming straight from the police chief's daughter, you.

"I just don't understand why he came back so out of the blue." You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes with the back of your hand. 

"I'm not sure." He supplied as he gently massaged your hip with his hand. 

"I mean, theoretically speaking, if he would have just laid low for the rest of the year and part of next, the captain would have told us that we needed to "start allocating our resources to other cases with activity and leads." You say, picking your hands up quickly to make quotation marks. "And the case would grow cold and start collecting dust. It would almost be like he'd be getting away scot-free." 

"Maybe it's not about that." He plainly stated, bringing his hand to pull his jacket that was lying in your lap, up around your chest.

"About what?" You questioned, looking up at him. 

"Not gettin' caught." You tilted your head. "Look." He started. "I know guys like him. I've worked with guys like him."

"Murderers?" You bluntly said. 

"Somethin' like that." He breathes out. "But, my point is that the guy isn't doin' this to stroke his ego or see how far he can go before he gets caught. I think it's because he wants justice."

"Justice?" You repeated. 

"Justice." He affirms, nodding his head. 

"How is murdering people justice?" You skeptically question.

"I'm not sayin' I agree with the guy. I'm just tellin' you what I think." He says.

Simon knows he shouldn't be going in-depth on the guy's thoughts, AKA him. It was stupid and reckless. You could get suspicious as to why he was being defensive of a murderer. But, he wasn't too concerned with you reading too much into what he was saying because, as of late, your mind has been consumed with your own thoughts.

"It's gettin' late. We should be headin' inside. Ya?" You nodded as he stood and extended his hand for you to grab. You reached your hand up, and his fingers tenderly wrapped around yours. 

Simon led you to his room. You made your way to his bed and fell onto it stomach first, letting out a deep sigh. Simon let out a laugh. "Comfortable. Huh?" He questioned, slipping his shirt off.

"It's always comfortable." You said as you breathed in the scent of the clean linen laundry detergent he used. "I'm glad. I'm just gonna' take a shower. You'll be okay?" He asked as he stripped himself of his sweatpants. 

"Simon, it's like one a.m." You turn over on your back, eyes wandering over Simon's abdomen. "Was sweatin' " He clarified as he ducked under the doorway to the bathroom, connecting to his room.

You stole glances into the bathroom since the son of a bitch left the door open. He peeled off his underwear, revealing his cock before stepping into the shower, obscuring your view.

You lay there for a whole five minutes before the scent of Simon's body wash lingered into his room, filling your nostrils. You stood up and stripped yourself of your clothes, until you were completely naked. 

Simon faced towards the showerhead, one hand on the wall, the other wiping away the water streaming onto his face. You stepped into the bathroom doorway and slowly opened the shower door, bringing your hands up to wrap around his abdomen.

"Finally decided to join me. Huh?" He turned to face you, letting his hand run up your back before threading it through your damp hair while the other slid down your back, landing just above your ass.

"Didn't want you to be lonely." You smirked, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his pec. 

"Is that what it was?" He titled his head, before bringing it down to your lips to engulf them with his. It started gentle and tender, but it became hungrier when you nipped his bottom lip with your teeth.

He pulled you closer before he lightly pinched your ass, making you yelp. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. His hands roamed your body, eventually settling on your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, electing another moan from you.

"Simon, I need you." You pant as you cling to his neck for stability.

"Where do you need me?" His voice was barely above a whisper. The roughness of it made you even wetter than you already were. His hand slid down the dip of your cleavage, slowly down to where you ached.

"Where, sweetheart?" Your voice went dry, as he slid his hand over your cunt, making you squirm. "Is this where you want me?" He teased, leaning into your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses on it, as his hand rubbed soft circles on your clit.

"Right there!" You finally let out, voice hoarse. Simon picks one of your legs up to wrap around his waist so that he can see you more clearly. Your eyes are closed as he shoves his middle finger into you, grazing your sweet spot.

You open your eyes briefly to see Simon's staring into yours. Your face reddens, and you raise one arm to cover your eyes in embarrassment. "Don't go shy on me now." He gruffs as he pulls your arm down, covering your eyes.

"I wanna' see all of you." You stare back at him as he introduces another one of his fingers into you. You throw your head back at the contact and tightly grip his bicep. "Fuck, Simon." You moan.

"Feel good?" He seductively asks as he finds your clit again and rubs it. You swiftly nod your head as you feel a knot tightening in your lower stomach, signaling your climax is near. 

"You wanna come?" He pauses before bending down so his mouth is hovering over your ear. "Ask me nicely." 

"Please, Simon." You instantly say. "Let me come." You beg.

With that, Simon picks up his pace, and soon enough, you come all over his fingers, with his name on the tip of your tongue. He holds your body up as you steadily come off your high.

Simon and you end up washing up, with you helping him sud up his hair and him helping wash your back and ass, per his request. After washing up and having another quick makeout session, you both step out of the shower and put on fresh clothes.

"Where are you going?" You questioned as Simon slipped on his shoes. 

"Gotta' go check on Johnny's dog. Forgot to earlier." He said as he laced his shoes.

"Why do I always have to share you with him?" You joke as you settle into the bed. He laughs as he walks over to you and kisses you on the top of the head. "Be back in thirty." You nod, and he heads out the door. You end up almost immediately lulling off to sleep after he leaves.

You didn't question how odd it was that Simon forgot to check on Johnny's dog all day and waited until two a.m. No, because he never gave you a reason to question his whereabouts.

How unfortunate that you would be walking into the office tomorrow morning to see that yet another body was found, this time of a child predator, being reported on the small television you found your colleagues surrounding.

Must be a coincidence.

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[m00nh1gh]

THE WALLS

Changbin x reader

Changbin is your tattoo artist bf <3

Contains: Fingering, vaginal unprotected sex (he pulls out), reader squirts and it's dirty asf, technically in public but there's no one apart from you two, Changbin calls reader "Baby" and "Babe", reader calls Changbin "Binnie".

Word count: 1.6k.

"I'm so lucky to have you, Binnie," you put your arms around his neck as you looked at him with a sweet smile on your face.

“Because I'm your personal tattoo artist?" He scoffed, guiding you to the long chair you'd have to sit on for the next couple of hours.

"Not only that, but it is great that I get generous discounts," you sat on the edge of the chair as Changbin's hands stayed on your waist. He looked at you with a silly smile and he leaned in to give you a quick peck on the lips.

"Of course you're lucky to have me," he finally let go of you to gather his equipment. He dragged a rolling table along with his own chair next to yours and then he looked at you with expectant eyes as he got a new pair of gloves out of the box. 

"Are you going to lay down, or?

- Yeah, yeah. I was just waiting for you to tell me to do it." 

He put the gloves on as you laid down on the chair. He arranged his tattoo gun and then got some products out like ink and vaseline. The stencil was ready as well, so he turned the lamp that was right above you on and he sat at your side, because you were getting a rib tattoo.

You had already taken your shirt off and were only left with some sort of tissue covering your boobs so your skin was ready to be used for work. You saw him take the machine in his hand and he dipped it in a small cup of ink that he had prepared.

"Binnie I'm scared," you said as you saw the needle coming closer and closer to your rib, where Changbin had just transfered the stencil.

"Don't worry baby, it'll only take an hour or two. I know you can do it," he held your cheek with the hand that wasn't holding anything and he kissed you lovingly before going back to work.

"Tell me, though, if it's too much pain.

- Yeah, don't worry about that."

It took him an hour and a half to finish your tattoo. It didn't hurt as much as you'd thought, but having numerous needles poking your skin for that much time certainly wasn't comfortable. Apart from that, you enjoyed watching your boyfriend being this concentrated. He made sure everything was perfect and you had to admit that seeing him like this made you feel some type of way.

He had just applied some cream on the fresh tattoo before sticking saran wrap over it with bandage tape. Once everything was discarded, he turned his complete attention to you with an excited smile.

"Can you sit up, babe? Wanna see the tattoo? 

- Of course I want to!" You slowly sat up to make sure you didn't startle yourself with the pain from your rib and Changbin helped you up before walking with you to the full body mirror that was placed against a wall.

"Binnie, it's gorgeous! I love you so much!" You gasped when you saw the tattoo. The shadows and colors matched so well together and it looked way better than what you had expected (not that you didn't expect something great, you know your boyfriend's the best tattoo artist out there). It also matched well with your personal style, you were grateful that he changed some things up on your sketch to make it work better on you. Changbin hugged you from behind and kissed your cheek, happy that you liked his work.

"Don't you think you deserve a little reward now? Because you did very well too.

- What are you thinking about?

- Making my girl feel good, obviously," his hands traveled down to your hips, sliding some fingers just a little under your pants to show you what his plans were. You hummed as you unzipped your pants, giving him the consent he was waiting for. His hands went back out of your jeans and he pressed his hips to yours, slowly sliding the clothing article off.

"Wanna do it in front of the mirror? Wanna see yourself fall apart on my dick?" He asked you, wrapping a hand around your throat but not squeezing as his other hand slowly rubbed your clothed clit.

You nodded as your hands found his pants and you unzipped them for him. It was hard to do as you couldn't look at what you were doing since he was behind you, but you still managed to get his pants down a little and you whined because he was still rubbing you.

He chuckled and let go of you to take his pants and boxers off and you did the same as him. You pressed your ass on Changbin's dick when he held your hip with one hand and he went back to playing with your pussy now that it was all exposed for him.

“You're beautiful, baby. I won't be able to stay out of your pretty cunt for too long," he gently kissed your jaw and the back of your ear as he whispered to you.

You moaned when he slid two fingers into you at once, squeezing your thighs around his hand. He started to pump them at a slow pace at first, but when he felt you getting wetter around him and your moans got more desperate, he went faster and hit your g spot continuously, making you think he would make you squirt because of the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

"Gonna cum already? With two of my fingers only?

- Mh- Changb... Want your-

- Yeah, don't worry, my baby. I'll give you what you want," he pulled his fingers out of you before bending you a little so he could get a better view at your entrance.

The only lube he needed was your own wetness as he rubbed his dick along your folds and your whining made him slide into you soon after he was ready. It was certainly a tight fit, because he was only tip deep into you and you already felt your vagina burning.

"Binnie, too big," you moaned as you held his hand that was on your hip. 

“I won't move unless you tell me to baby, take your time," he reassured you as he kissed your cheek in reassurance.

You nodded and he went very slow when you told him to and it took a few minutes for him to be all the way in you. It still burned, so you both stayed still for a little while before you told him to start moving. he went almost all out of you before slowly sliding back in, making you moan in both pain and pleasure, because even if it hurt, he could still hit some good spots in you that made you a little less preoccupied by the way he was stretching you out so much.

But as usual, you got used to his size and soon you had his arm wrapped around your shoulder to keep you up on your feet and he forced you to look at yourself in the mirror. He was already pounding hard into you, making you moan uncontrollably and your mouth never shut. Even if you tried to look away from your reflection, Changbin would either slap your ass or redirect your face by firmly holding your chin.

"Never told you to look away, be grateful when I reward you," he'd growl into your ear as you'd whine and look in his eyes before looking back at your weak figure that was so well handled by your boyfriend's strong self.

Rubbing small cricles on your clit as he thrusted deep and hard into you made your legs shake and hold onto his arms so hard you'd probably leave marks because of your nails. He made you forget everything except how to call out his name, letting out loud and desperate moans as he occasionally grunted in your ear.

"Changbin, I'm gonna cum," you managed to say while he sucked on your neck.

“Wait a little more for me, can you? I'm almost there too," he thrusted even faster, letting go of your shoulders and bending you more so you'd hold onto the wall, right next to the mirror. His nails sunk into the skin of your ass as he spread your cheeks, watching himself going in and out of your soaked and abused pussy. The sight was almost heavenly to him, making him moan and slap your ass.

“You can cum, baby. Won't make you wait any longer.”

One hand let go of your ass to rub your clit once more, making you whimper and moan uncontrollably as you felt yourself coming closer to your orgasm.

The last high pitched moans you let out told Changbin you had reached your orgasm and as he was on edge, he slid out of you to release himself on your ass. His hand was still using your clit and you finally squirted, being once more overwhelmed by the pleasure.

"Holy fucking shit," he moaned as he rode out of his orgasm with you, observing your fluids flow out of your pussy. Both your minds were still way too foggy to care about the mess you'd made, so when he gave one last slap to your clit before letting go of you, you didn't mind letting yourself fall on the now dirty floor. 

He crouched in front of you and held your chin to look up at him, leaning in for a sloppy kiss.

"What do we say now?

- Thank you for the reward, Binnie," you answered with a fucked out smile.

[transmascsteveharrington]

The Harringtons pride themselves with being a family from a long line of people who got their roots removed. They are above such a silly thing like emotions and worthless concepts like affection. It's sometimes a solace Steve thinks when he lies on the cold tiles of the big empty house yearning for warmth yearning for a family. His parents leave him alone because they can and they don't love him because they can't. One day he'll be just like them, just a blank slate of harsh marble. He already practises and prepares. Holds everyone at an arms length, is cruel, is untouchable. His friendship with Tommy superficial, artificial based on a mutual upbringing and a mutual future. Sometimes when Steve watches the way Tommy and Carol snarl at each other he wonders if they already had their roots removed.

NancyWheeler manages to create a crack in the marble. Steve is in love and the idea of roots and of being numb, emotionally dead feels silly, feels so far removed, feels like it won't ever happen. Because he and Nancy are in love. Only that they aren't. Nancy doesn't love him and Steve hides in his bed for a week. He waits for the cough to come for that choking feeling of his lungs being squeezed like lemons, wants it to happen so he can have the operation and cut the pain away. But the roots never come, it wasn't that kind of love, and the pain slowly leaves.

He tells Robin about it on the bathroom floor and she just goes, "duh, didn't you pay attention in health class? Roots don't grow if you want the pain to go away. Roots come when you want to hold on to the pain."

Steve hadn't understood back then, thought that made zero sense. But then Eddie had happened. Picking the kids up from Hellfire turned into friendly banter turned into Steve buying from Eddie turned into them hanging out in the trailer, turned into a sexuality crisis or two, turned into feelings. Steve doesn't say anything. Wants to wait until Eddie has passed his last class. Doesn't want to add to Eddie's stress if he doesn't feel the same, doesn't want to distract Eddie if Eddie miraculously feels the same. He'll get to it when the time is right.

Only that the time isn't right and Eddie dies. And Steve? Steve starts to cough. Typically people cough rose petals until stems get stuck in their throat and thrones pierce their skin. Steve just coughs forget-me-nots. he can't decide if it's fitting or ironic. He does finally understand what Robin meant though. He doesn't want the pain to go away, it's all he has left of Eddie. That and Eddie's vest. It's easier to breathe when he sleeps in it.

Robin is furious when she finds out, tells him Eddie is dead, Eddie can't love him back and that Steve will die too if he doesn't get the roots removed. But Steve doesn't want to, doesn't want to lose the last part of Eddie, doesn't want to lose that part of himself, the part that feels.

And he doesn't have to. The lamp in his empty living room blinks three times short, long, short. SOS. Steve first thinks he is losing his mind but then Dustin calls and then El. Something's alive in the upside down and for the first time Steve feels like he can breath again. It takes surprisingly little to convince the party and Owens to go back on a rescue mission, they all miss Eddie or can tell how much Dustin and Steve do.

When they find him he isn't quite Eddie anymore. He's evolved, adapted, still the dorky metal head deep down inside but also something new something feral. He attacks Steve on sight but instead of tearing Steve's throat out he just wraps himself protectively around Steve and possessively growls "mine."

His, Steve agrees. It takes some coaxing but Eddie or Kaz how he likes to be called now returns to Hawkins with them, even allows Owens to examine him, as long as Steve gets to come with. Turns out Eddie really shouldn't have survived even with the supernatural powers of the upside down he should have been dead before the upside down could heal/mutate him.

"He was held together by roots, keeping him from bleeding out and falling apart," Owens explains after some tests and Eddie looks very sheepishly suddenly, unable to meet Steve's eyes.

But steve won't have this, no shame no fear after they almost lost each other. Gently he cups the face of his own personal monster and lifts it up until cat like yellow eyes get caught in liquid amber ones.

"I've been coughing up forget-me-nots since we lost you," Steve whispers. Eddie stared a second before he leans into the soft touch.

"Anemones," he mumbles into Steve's palm. "Ever since last September it's been anemones for me."

Anemones, symbolising loneliness and being forsaken. Fitting for both of them.

It doesn't matter anymore though, the pain they've both clung to like a castaways to a life raft, has eased and now they cling to each other. It doesn't matter if Eddie is no longer quite human and needs to bite and feed from Steve every now and then. Steve lets him take and gets to take in return

After the all the same sweet nectar from the flowers their roots have bloomed into runs through both of them, neither of them ever lonely again or forsaken. Only ever in love and together.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

his brown eyes had tragedy weaved behind his irises | season 3 s.r. x gn!reader

tw: mention of drugs and needles.

it was quiet in the bullpen. most agents and staff have gone home or hit the town when the clock hit five pm, while others are too engrossed with their work to deport from their desks. you being the latter, wanting to complete the paperwork from your recent case while the details are still fresh and there's less commotion filling the floor.

suit jacket slowly sliding off the back of your chair, a cup of cold tea beside a lukewarm mug of caramel-colored coffee that pen dropped off when leaving her dungeon to join the team for a drink. jj and emily tried to sweet talk their way into persuading you to abandon the manilla envelope until tomorrow morning, but you were insistent about staying so them along with derek said their goodbyes for the night. hotch also stayed behind, as usual, holed up in his office with his lights dimmed and desk lamp bright. you know he wishes to just head home to his wife and son but his position forces onto him double the paperwork.

signing to yourself as you only had five more pages to fill out and process, you pushed away from your desk and headed to the bathroom to splash some cold water to reawaken your senses. the dull steps to the bathroom was the only noise to follow you down the empty hallway, no passerby to greet or bump into, until-

"sorry- oh! spence, i thought you went home?" taking a step back after your run-in outside the doors. spencer was wide-eyed and fidgeting with his left sleeve, strands of growing hair wild and untamed. he seemed disoriented, unorganized than he usually is.

he licked his lips, "had some files to work on." his only response, not bothering with further explain. he seemed to avoid eye contact, unable to stand still for a second as he kept messing with his dress shirt or running a hand along the side of his head.

you took notice of the darkened circles under his eyes, almost a purple bruise discoloration. his cheeks more hollowed out and even his skin tone looked a bit ghostly, barely any of that natural peachy color. "are you feeling well, spence?" concern for your close friend. you raised a hand to check his forehead, but his hand wrapped tight around your wrist and he stared darkly at you.

"i'm fine. just leave me alone." he dropped your arm and rushed away leaving you in shock at what just transpired.

your mind raced as you tried to notice when this sudden change in attitude happened with spencer. it's been almost a month since spencer was in the hospital from that one case, the doctors say he was injected multiple times with dilaudid when held hostage. you heard the drug is stronger than heroin and you saw that spencer had multiple needle pokes.

he wouldn’t…. he couldn’t possibly still…. he might….

“shit,” whispering to yourself once you came to the conclusion. spencer was still using, this could get him fired from the unit if anyone finds out. was that why everyone’s been quiet and puzzled around spencer lately? did they secretly know but chose not to say anything, even in private to him?

for the past month spencer reid has been struggling in silence with no reach for help. but not for much longer. walking away from the bathrooms and back to the bullpen, you disregard your desk and casually walked to spencer’s desk. he was hunched over scattered files with a tightness to his shoulders, pen bouncing between his index and middle finger on his right hand while his left kept scratching over his body. he was fidgeting like there was a million ants crawling over him and he couldn’t fine relief.

he was a lit billboard sign screaming ‘help me! please, somebody say something!’

“spence,” giving a light knuckle knocking on his desk as greeting. he didn’t bother looking at you, just moving his head at the noise then back. you licked your lips, “i was planning on leaving in about twenty minutes and was wondering if you’d like a ride. not very safe to take the subway at his time.” this wasn’t anything new, you always offer him rides home when stuck at the office together.

“uh, not tonight. might be here for a while. lots of work to do.” he sounded distracted but he didn’t seemed concentrated by the paperwork before him. a hand rubbed at the back of his neck until it started to turn red at the harsh touch.

you stepped forward and placed a gentle hand to his back, he froze. he usually welcomed your touches compared to others but it was like you were a hot poker stinging him as you were reaching out for him. “i’m sure this can wait a few hours until you’re well rested. and more coffee isn’t gonna help at this hour.” keeping a low tone.

spencer rounded his shoulders, a nonverbal gesture to back off. “just leave me alone, y/n. you don’t have to baby me. i’m fine.” stern and cold.

you sighed in defeat and stepped away, “you’re not fine, spence. and i care about you, but i’ll wait until you’re ready to talk… see you tomorrow.” another knock goodbye as you headed to your desk and finished your file.

heading to hotch’s office with your belongs and paperwork, you poked your head inside and softly greeted him. “you should’ve left hours ago,” a gruffness to his voice as he waved you inside.

“and you should’ve been in the parking lot at four fifty-nine, but guess we don’t all get lucky.” you saw the quirk of his mouth that he tried to hide, “anyway here’s the completed file from the jeff anderson case.” sliding the folder over his dark wood desk.

hotch’s brows raise, “the case we completed-“ he looked at his watch. “twenty hours ago?”

you shrugged, “what can i say? i’m dedicated to my work. also means i won’t have to do it tomorrow morning, works out in my favor.” hitching your satchel strap higher on your shoulder, “umm… also i wanted to ask you something, kinda personal.”

hotch placed his pen onto his paperwork and closed it shut to show you undivided attention, he held a hand out to one of the chairs in front of his desk. sitting down you couldn’t tell if this was a good decision but you needed a different perspective.

“this involves spencer, i just wanted to know if you’ve noticed his behavior lately.” trying to play is cool.

hotch sighed, “l/n you know we’re not allowed to profile agents.” you rushed to speak, “yes i know, but genuinely, as a concerned friend of his, have you not noticed he seems… off?”

he went quiet, head turning to look out the window and you followed to see spencer still sitting at his desk with a frustrated expression clouding his face. he seemed like any second he would scream or throw something across the room, but all his did was pound his fist onto his desk thrice and sighed while staring at the ceiling.

“he went through something very traumatic. it’s gonna take a while for him to recover.” a diplomatic statement. not addressing the drugs and the consequences those would have. plausible deniability.

“of course. just wish he could talk to us, we’re his family.” solemnly looking at your lap. he didn’t deserve to get kidnapped and almost die, he didn’t deserve this addiction that was forced into him.

“i know, but he’ll come to us when he feels ready. until then we can only be his silent support system.” hotch sounded upset as well but was able to hide most of it. you didn’t bother saying anything in response, just a nod and a cheeky good morning to your superior before leaving his space and heading to the elevators.

“y/n, hey wait.” footsteps heavy and quick you turned to see spencer at a fast speed walk, a mild jog if it was you with you shorter legs.

turning completely to him and away from the elevator you were unprepared for whatever spencer might say, hoping he’ll speak to you about his issue. “want a ride?” deciding to pose the earlier question for further conversation.

“uh if- if you don’t mind my- my company.” two stutters and his brows pinched in the middle. he was nervous. you tried to sooth his worry with a warmly smile, “i always enjoy your company.” full sincerity dripping from your tongue.

spencer smiled hesitantly, “okay let me just,” he pointed over his shoulder and you nodded him along. he returned in under three minutes with his corduroy  brown coat keeping him warm from the sudden spring chill and his matching brown satchel slung across his chest.

“let’s hit the road, partner.” a slight pep to your step, just glad to have him with in your space. neither of you bothered with any conversation to your car, just letting nature fill the space until your engine replace that and the low volume from a radio station accompanied.

“can you stay at my place?” the abrupt question caused you to flinch and swerve the car slightly to the left then straighten out. your eyes bugged at your actions, “sorry, sorry got lost in my head and forgot i wasn’t alone for a second.” full truth with a splash of lying.

“it’s okay if you don’t-“ “of course i’d love to. lucky i have another go-bag in my trunk.”

at a stop light you looked to your right, spencer lit and shaded by a street lamp. with his hollowed eyes and chiseled features it was like he stepped out a tim burton movie, and halloween was his favorite holiday. you wanted to hold him close to your chest and card your fingers through his hair, whisper welcoming and loving reassurances against his temple while stippling kisses to his crown.

spencer reid deserved that and more.

“the lights green.” you blinked three times at spencer’s direct stare then forward to his apartment.

the comforting smell of hundreds of books mixed with a simple clean scent wafted over you and loosened your muscles. it was a universal hug from spencer welcoming you into his safe space.

“your home is very cozy. well lived in.” complimenting spencer’s living arrangements. he hung his jacket and satchel to a set of hooks beside his door then turned to you with that awkward smile of his. “thank you. definitely planning to stay here forever cause moving all this wouldn’t be any fun.” and you silently agree.

“uh, actually there- there was a reason i asked for you to stay.” spencer spoke lowly, barely wanting to acknowledge his own words.

placing your go-bag beside his couch you looked to him with hopefully an open and reassuring gaze. “you can tell me anything, spence. i’ll always be here for you.” wanting to reach out but holding back for his boundaries.

spencer wrung his hand with eyes downcast, “uh, do- do you remember the tobias hankel case? when i was kidnapped.” his voice was meek. he wanted to curl into himself.

you nodded, “yeah, i was a useless nervous wreck for those few hours. and i didn’t leave your side when you were in the hospital unless needed. i was scared to death about you.” a shakey release of breath. that case was the stepping stone for you to realize more about your feelings towards spencer.

spencer licked his lips, “and you know the doctors had to keep me for a few days to make sure i was detoxed of the drugs in my system.” he finally looked at you, those sad puppy eyes that melted your heart into a puddle.

you took a step forward, “yeah. a full week.”

“well um, uh, when- when leaving the crime scene i- i took a bottle of dilaudid. and i’ve- i’ve been-“ you took another step and stopped him with a small, “i know.” not wanting him to stress over sharing every detail.

his warm brown eyes started to shine with growing tears added with a quiver to his lips, “i- i just… i couldn’t stop myself. i don’t- i don’t want this.” a crack at the end.

you rushed forward to wrap your arms over his shoulders with a hand pushing his head into the crook of your neck. his own long limbs wrapped behind your back and pressed you close to his chest and you could feel each heave of his stuttering breaths.

“it’s okay, spence.” petting the back of his head, “you’ll get through this. i’m here to help you, i only care about your well being.” speaking in low tones, even pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. he did always say that kissing was safer than shaking hands in greeting.

“what if i don’t get better?” a hushed what if, thinking more of a hypothetical then reality in hand. you were quick to quell his fear, “you just have to take baby steps and when you’re ready you could go to na for more guidance from first hand people. even just getting through a full day is a huge accomplishment.”

spencer’s arms held you tighter, “will you stay with me? through it all.” he’s confided in private with you how he’s scared people in his life are just gonna keep leaving. especially people in the bau, you’re his second family while his mother is out of reach on an everyday bases. and at the time you chuckled lightly and said, “of course im gonna stay with you. why wouldn’t i?” and he said so easily with a shrug, “everyone eventually does.”

“i’m gonna stay with you no matter what.” your earlier thought came to mind, from the car, and you made sure to press kiss after kiss to his temple and into the crown of his head. “i love you too much to ever depart from you.” whispered just above his ear.

-

a/n: might be OFC cause i haven’t watched CM in a minute. 1 something k. title is from @unboundprompts

kinda left it a little open ended cause i fear it would get sloppy if i wrote more.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jamil Viper - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Jamil: As a supporter of the Land of Dawning National Museum of Art's 100th Anniversary Celebration, I've made sure to look into every single exhibit.

Jamil: If I recall, the next exhibit over should have a painting of the Sorcerer of the Sands on display…

???: That's a good look he's got there. Makes sense, though, this captures the moment he got his hands on that Very Rare mat he'd been searching a long time for, so.

Jamil: Idia-senpai, is that you over there…?

Idia: EEK! O-O-Oh, it's Jamil-shi. Don't just suddenly start talking to me like that…

Jamil: My apologies. I didn't expect you to be this startled just by calling out to you.

Jamil: At any rate, this painting is spectacular… It's overwhelming to see the real thing in person like this.

Jamil: He overcame countless ordeals and finally obtained the magic lamp that he had been continuously seeking for many years…

Jamil: This painting perfectly depicts the legendary tale of the Sorcerer of the Sands.

Idia: …He continuously searched for just one thing for countless years, huh. I think I can sympathize with him.

Jamil: Sympathize?

Idia: Ah, no, uh… I just meant that there was something that I wanted to have, no matter how hard I'd have to struggle to get it, is all…

Jamil: Something you wanted to have, no matter how hard you'd have to struggle for it, hm…

Idia: Th-The way you reacted there… W-Was there something that you wanted, Jamil-shi?

Jamil: Yes, I suppose I want…

Jamil: THE POWER TO COMMAND THE UNIVERSE.

Idia: HUH!?!

Idia: N-Never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth, sounds like something a middle schooler would say…

Jamil: I was just trying to mimic a quote that comes from the legends of the Sorcerer of the Sands, but… Looks like you didn't catch the reference.

Idia: Ah, so it was a joke… For a second there I thought we were similar, soz…

Jamil: No, there's no need for you to apologize… We were talking about things we want, right?

Jamil: There are many things I want, but… I suppose my current priority is networking.

Idia: Siiigh, so that's what you went with.

Idia: Still feel like I could relate better with you when you said you wanted "the power to command the universe"…

Jamil: In order to fulfill my deepest desires, I need useful…

Jamil: …I mean, helpful people with whom I can solidify and further my relationships with.

Jamil: After all, they say that the Sorcerer of the Sands also received assistance from many people in order to obtain that magic lamp.

Jamil: That is why I want to network and make human connections, so that I will never miss out on my deepest desires.

Idia: Yeah, I can get wanting to get your hands on a rare item as much as the next guy, but…

Idia: Leaving it to other people means they could end up betraying you. And it'd already be impossible to set up those human relations from the get-go.

Idia: But hey, since the Sorcerer of the Sands held the spirit of deliberation…

Idia: Maybe he was able to work with others the same way you think through things, Jamil-shi. IDK.

Jamil: If there were any similarities in the way the Sorcerer of the Sands and I thought, then I would consider that a high honor.

Jamil: In most legends, he is described as a man who was prepared for any possible circumstance that could arise.

Jamil: That is, in both the country's affairs, and his personal affairs.

Jamil: In order to become someone as great as he was, I will continue to improve myself with care.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Jamil: This is a painting of a bird. It seems what's depicted here is the hornbill that served the royal King of Beasts family for generations…

Idia: U-Uh-huh… Looks like it's spouting something of all smug-like.

Jamil: Perhaps he's advising the royal family on something… Or no, maybe he's just lecturing.

Jamil: From what I understand, in addition to being the king's chamberlain, he was also the prince's chaperone as well.

Idia: For him to lecture someone he serves like that, he's either got guts or is unafraid of anything…

Jamil: Well, if the prince was the type to do his own thing, or act without thinking, dragging other people around him into his messes…

Jamil: I think I also would have a few frank words to say to him.

Idia: Jamil-shi, doesn't it seem like you're bringing your own feelings into this?

Jamil: …You must be imagining it.

Jamil: Now that I think of it… I heard that this hornbill was once asked by the King of Beasts to sing lullabies.

Idia: H-He asked his stern chamberlain for lullabies… Sounds like the King of Beasts' courage knew no bounds.

Jamil: Perhaps he got along well with the King of Beasts, let alone the prince.

Idia: My vote is that he'd have him sing lullabies in retaliation for nagging him day in and day out.

Jamil: Haha, that's possible too.

Jamil: But even so… Lullabies, huh. I remember my sister used to pester me for them all the time way back when, too.

Idia: U-Uh-huh… What another lovely memory for you.

Jamil: I don't know what you may be imagining, Idia-senpai… But it absolutely isn't a lovely memory at all.

Idia: Eh, r-really?

Jamil: Yes. Even though I tried my utmost to sing her a lullaby to help her sleep…

Idia: She wouldn't sleep at all?

Jamil: That'd still be a cuter outcome than what would happen.

Jamil: She'd furrow her brow at me and say YOU'RE TERRIBLE AT THIS!

Idia: Gaha! Out of the mouths of babes, as they say!!

Idia: Oh, but you were part of the NRC Tribe, right?

Idia: So that should mean that your singing was good enough to be chosen by that Vil Schoenheit, right?

Jamil: Well, sure… Ever since my sister first made fun of me, I've practiced a lot. I thought I improved enough that I could sing in front of people without embarrassing myself.

Jamil: My sister was also watching the live broadcast of the VDC, so I said to her, "Guess you can't make fun of me for being terrible at singing anymore"…

Jamil: And she responded with, "What are you even talking about?"

Idia: So she didn't even remember she said all that!? H-Heehee… Jamil-shi, that sucks!

Jamil: Right, I felt like an idiot for overthinking it for years.

Jamil: Well, I guess all's end that ends well, since all that practice means that my grades in music class don't suffer.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Idia: Ooh, the painting we can see over there is of the Thorn Fairy. It looks like she's in a bit of a pinch surrounded by a ton of soldiers.

Jamil: Yes but look at her expression. Although there are so many weapons pointed at her, she fears nothing.

Idia: More like the soldiers are the ones who're scared of her. But, how did this situation happen, in the first place?

Jamil: They say that the Thorn Fairy held magical power so great that everyone prostrated themselves before her. That is why she is legendary.

Jamil: However, humans often fear those who have unfathomable power…

Jamil: So I'm sure there were some humans who would attempt to point their weapons at her in this fashion. Foolish, is all I can call them.

Idia: Uh-huuuh, I see. If it were a video game, I can understand getting all excited trying to figure out a way out of throng of people, but…

Idia: If I ever got surrounded by so many people IRL, I'd faint immediately.

Jamil: I'm sure you're just overexaggerating about the faint…

Idia: Overexaggerating!? J-Jamil-shi, are you saying that you could go up against a large group of people like that and stay composed?

Jamil: Hm, I would… I would come back another day and request to speak one-on-one with the king who commands those soldiers.

Jamil: Well, that's assuming that they are a king who is willing to have a rational discussion.

Idia: Oh, so you wouldn't be able to handle them like the Thorn Fairy would…

Jamil: Well, isn't she considered one of the Great Seven because she can accomplish things that ordinary people cannot?

Jamil: Not only does she harness great power, but she is also very big-hearted. If it were me, I would probably have retaliated against them.

Idia: Oh, yeah? What kind of revenge would you come up with? Make 'em stub their toe on a desk corner or something?

Jamil: Heh, perhaps.

Idia: Oh, that look in his eyes means he's definitely plotting something…

Idia: I-I just remembered something urgent I need to do, so I'll leave you to it!

[Idia runs away]

Jamil: Something urgent? What else could he possibly have to do here? As supporters we're just here to enjoy the art museum.

Jamil: Well, no matter. I was just thinking I'd like to look at the exhibits quietly without anyone else bothering me.

Jamil: "What kind of revenge would I come up with?"… Hm.

Jamil: Well, if it were me…

Jamil: I would make them feel abject humiliation in every possible way so they could never walk the earth with dignity ever again.

Requested by @bibi-cha.