#and I know that if I don’t do something very soon I could end up drinking like this or worse for the rest of my life.

[maybefae]

Messages From Your Forever Person

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.

Just a note!: I don’t like doing general love readings because I don’t feel like they are as personal as, well, personal love readings, but I had the urge to make one. Your forever person can be what you consider your significant other, long-term partner, or future spouse.

Tips!

|Pile 1

Tarot: King of Pentacles, The Fool, Ace of Pentacles, Three of Pentacles, Black Numen, Six of Wands, Knight of Pentacles, Three of Swords, Ace of Swords, The Star, Ten of Cups (Bottom of the Deck:

Oracle: Uplift, Forgiveness, Consistency

You know how the planet Jupiter is the defender of our solar system? How Jupiter pulls asteroids away from Earth and even take the hits itself? That’s the energy of this person. As soon as I pulled the cards, I got the feeling of comfort from a strong and stable energy. I must say, this person also has a comforting smile and as soon as you look at them, your nerves will instantly be soothed. They feel like they are standing beside me, hands in pockets, as they watch me write this. They could have a favorite cream cable knit sweater that they like to wear as soon as there’s a chill in the air. 

They are very patient and have the mentality of “it doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be done”. You could suffer from anxiety, but I feel this panicked and shaky energy coming from you. I don’t know if you used to be yelled at or punished for doing something wrong by a parent or partner, but it feels like you are terrified of doing anything around your forever person at first. And there are cards here that are telling me that you have been hurt in the past. It seems like this could be the first safe and healthy partner you’ve had. This could just be the first partner you’ve ever had and now you're 20/25+ years old and you don’t know what you’re doing, which brings out this anxiety towards this relationship. But your partner here holds a lot of patience and comfort for you! They really love you. Honestly, this is really fucking close to unconditional love (which is rare). They hold no judgement towards how you operate now because of your past, absolutely not. And they want you to know that. It’s like they have told you this but you continuously don’t believe them, which does hurt them a little ngl. The Jupiter reference could be what this was for. They will take the small hurts you do but persistently and consistently show up until you believe in their love for you. And it’s not that you don’t know, but there is a voice in your head that makes you doubt often even if there isn’t proof of those thoughts. 

God, pile 1, they love you. They are such a steady energy. They are also very stable in the physical and spiritual realms. They are a very hard worker and would do anything to help your dreams become a reality. Your dreams are their dreams and vice versa. They really just want a peaceful home life with you honestly; they like the simple things. I think a good personality reference would be the husband to the pregnant wife in Kiki’s Delivery Service. 

They really want me to drive home the message of forgiving yourself, pile 1. Sure, your actions or thoughts do hurt them sometimes, but they don’t really want that to be the focus. They want you to be aware that they do but in a way to help you heal. They aren’t your past partner, they aren’t going to react like your parent, they aren’t playing you just because you haven’t had a partner. It’s heartbreaking that you would dare to even compare them to others. Maybe this person hides a lot of their hurt not to upset you and this is a hurdle that they have to work through. It’s only really coming out towards the end so that’s why I want to say that. 

I think this message was to let you know how the beginning part of your relationship will be like. They just want to make you aware of it, maybe so you can comfort the insecurities you have so the beginning won’t be as difficult.

|Pile 2

Tarot: Ten of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, Six of Swords, The Hierophant, Three of Pentacles, King of Cups, Three of Cups, The Sun, King of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles, The High Priestess, The Moon

Oracle: The Moon (again!), Wept Breath, The Chariot, Vulnerability, Divinity, Sacred

Before I pulled the cards, I heard six months to a year or eight weeks. I don’t like to do timing but that’s what I heard. So if that feels right to you, then take it. Or somewhere between a waning crescent and a waning gibbous moon.

Honestly, they are just happy to be here. I think they were ready to give up on love after so many failed attempts and heartbreak before you came along. And you honestly could’ve sworn off love too but you saw them and was like “I want that one.” This is the black cat, golden retriever pile. Raven and Beast Boy, Maleficent and Diaval, or Roger Rabbit and Jessica Rabbit. 

The vulnerability oracle strongly comes from your side. It does come from theirs but they admit that they were practically enchanted by you. “The idea of giving up on love was a stupid idea on their part, sorry your highness, that was my bad.” They just folded and they would happily fall under any love spell you send their way. They are obsessed with you, in the most healthy way possible. They are banging the table with their fist, credit card in hand. There’s an energy that you were in the same room with them and kept your eye on them because you were drawn to how “pathetic” they were. You couldn’t help yourself so you gave in. There’s also an energy of “of course, you’re the fated one to be with me.” You two end up talking and you could kinda bust their balls a little, tease and be a little sassy, but they keep up with you and “pass your little test.” 

I don’t think they were necessarily a player in the past but they had quite a few lovers and most of them played your person. They could have the vibe of one just from how cheeky and flirty they are but those thoughts are soon squashed with you seeing how pathetically devoted they are to you. They are just a lover at their core, they like to keep things light and fun, but they also know how to be serious and fix any issue that comes up in the relationship. They would truly do anything for you. This could come from an insecurity of not getting the love they needed from their past partners so they are overcompensating to keep you in love with them. :( 

Are these the older daughters/siblings that I usually get? There could be something here that they have a pretty put-together family and you’re the first partner that the family actually loves. You could honestly get the love and care that you missed out on with their family. 

God, I keep seeing your partner looking at you with the biggest heart eyes and they do this all the time, which could make you so flustered. This could be one of the things about them that honestly gets you to melt a little and lower some walls you have up. This feels like a love that you probably didn’t get to experience in your teen years but this will span on until you're old and wrinkly. They will carry the “honeymoon phase” through the rest of your lives. You know those videos that people make of their parents being in love and fooling around? That’s you two! 

There’s just an overall feeling of excitement coming from them. They could talk about you a lot to their friends and family, but not in a bragging way. They are just so happy with you and thinks you’re the most beautiful person they have ever seen. I heard “A wish I didn’t know I was wishing for.”

|Pile 3

Tarot: Two of Cups, King of Swords, The Hermit, The Fool, ? Dreamworld (reconnection), Six of Wands, Two of Wands, Four of Pentacles, Five of Cups, The Chariot (rest, feeling at home)

Oracle: Serenity, Sincerity, Respite, Surrender

If this resonates, this could be a lover you had that had passed away.

For others, this pile is for the ones who believe in lifetimes before the one you’re currently living. Energy is recycled after all. This is the more mystical pile. 

Your person here has a large energy and could come off as cold and intimidating. They have come to me wearing all black, leather boots, and darker hair. They have very muscular arms and a broad chest, very tall. They could be goth. This could’ve been them in the past life or that is how they show up in this lifetime. They have their head down as they stand beside me and there is an energy of wanting you to know they are here. Their soul does watch over you and guide you but they may stay quiet and don’t give you many signs or messages that they are around. But I suppose they came through today to say hi! 

They are very protective over you and they think you’re a ray of sunshine that graces their life. They aren’t one to show many emotions nor really speak them out, but you accept this and know that you are deeply loved. They know you doubt that they even exist or if they are coming or if they love you and so they are very hesitantly showing up through this reading to say that “I’m on my way” and “just sit tight.” They could have a deeper voice. They could give you reassurance if you ask for it, by the way! They want me to specify that so they don’t come across as heartless. I think you’re the only one that they truly love with their whole being and they do make it known, but if you need a little verbal reassurance, all you gotta do is ask. They are a cat person.

There is something here that you may have lived in timelines where they never got to exist in, like it has been a long while since you two have been together. I heard, “I waited for the right time.” There could’ve been timelines where your lives probably wouldn’t have worked together or it was going to end in tragedy “like the one I met you in.” So they had to wait. And they watched over you through each timeline. Everytime you didn’t get to live a happy lifetime or if your partner of any lifetime didn’t treat you right, it would make your person terribly upset and they couldn’t do anything about it. They are very upset while they show this to me, angry and frustrated. But this lifetime is the one where you two will finally be together. 

You could feel like you are meant to be someone, like a little void spot where your soul is…and you could be waiting out until you meet this person. You actually could’ve done this for the past three lifetimes (which you probably lived more happily than others). And this could’ve been a lifetime where you planned to do the same thing, but your person is coming in. You will be suspicious but you will probably be very enamoured by them. They are different than others and stand out to you. I think they like to rub your back because I just got the feeling of someone doing that to me. They let you be your bubbly and lively self and actually love that about you. They have complete trust in you. They may be on the more quiet/shy side but you two work together perfectly. You two can rest easy in this lifetime. 

Dividers: @inklore

[aewon]

all night, in love — YJW

pairing- jungwon x fmr genre: fluff, e2l, fake dating ⚠️: kissing, cursing, slight slight very tiny angst (practically nonexistent) wc: 3k

You hate Yang Jungwon, and he hates you too.

The reason? You ACCIDENTALLY tripped him in front of his crush in 9th grade. You never knew someone could hold such a grudge for something that wasn’t on purpose.

Ever since that day, Jungwon has made it his life mission to make you miserable.

He doesn’t do anything physical, he just makes annoying, mean jabs at you whenever he can, which you don’t hesitate to fire back.

What you never expected was for him to come up to you, asking for a favor.

“A favor? Why would I ever want to help you?” You scoff at his audacity, turning away from him on the bench you’re currently occupying.

He doesn’t go away, instead sitting next to you on the other side, facing you.

“Please, I’ll do anything!” When you look at him, he’s pouting, something that’s never been directed toward you.

He almost looks…cute?

“Anything?” You ask, not concealing the smirk gracing your face.

“… As long as it’s nothing super crazy, yes.”

You ponder for a moment, what could you possibly need from Yang Jungwon.

“I’ll help you, but I’m not telling you what you’re doing until after we’re done! So what exactly is it that you need?”

Jungwon suddenly looks away from you, biting his lip as if he’s afraid to say it.

“Well? We don’t have all day.”

He looks down at the ground, twiddling his thumbs before finally speaking, “I need you to date me.”

You almost spit out the sip of coffee you just took.

“What?”

“Look, you know Yoona, right?”

You nod, having met the girl before in science class.

“I have a huge crush on her but she never notices any of my attempts to talk to her or engage so I figured if I’m dating someone, that’ll make her notice. Everyone knows we don’t like each other so it’ll make a huge spectacle.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his rhetoric.

“Everyone knows we don’t like each other, so they’ll definitely believe we just started dating? That makes no sense, Jungwon. Come on, you’re smarter than that.”

“We can say it was all a ruse! We just didn’t want people knowing how much we like each other so we pretended to have a fued instead.”

“Still doesn’t make sense. Our friends and peers aren’t stupid, they’ll see right through us.”

“Not if we’re convincing! We’re talking right now, right? Not arguing. We’ll just tell everyone we decided to come clean. Please do this for me, you know I’d never bother you with something like this otherwise.”

That is true, and although you can’t ever imagine yourself liking someone like Jungwon, it’s fake.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Jungwon, for the first time, gives you a genuine smile. One that’s not devolving into a sneer or fake.

“So, what do we do now?” He asks.

“Do you have any boundaries you don’t want crossed?”

He shakes his head, “I want this to be believable.”

Without warning, you tug him forward by his shirt, planting your lips on his.

You don’t open your eyes to see if he’s shocked or not, but soon you feel his lips moving with yours.

His large hand travels to cup the side of your face.

You don’t know how long you’re kissing for, or rather making out at this point, but you’re interrupted by the bell ringing.

As you pull away, Jungwon looks as if he’s in a daze.

Your eyes look around the courtyard and multiple people are staring at you, looking away quickly when they realize they’ve been caught.

“Bye boyfriend, I’ll see you later.” You wink, getting up from the bench and leaving to go to class.

The end of the school day comes quicker than not, and you wait outside for your friend Ningning so you can drive her home.

A hand comes to rest on your waist, and you turn to find Jungwon standing beside you.

“I figured I’d get your number now so none of our friends suspect us.”

You nod, taking his phone and putting your number in, texting yourself quickly.

You save his number in your own phone as “wonnie ❤️” while he saves yours as “babe 🩷.”

“You drive Ningning to school right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’ll start driving the both of you, just text me your address and I’ll pick you up first tomorrow.”

“Sounds good, we should also figure out some kind of timeline for this relationship. When do we wanna say this started?”

Jungwon ponders for a moment, “A few months ago? Not too specific but not suspicious either. We could say after a while the dislike toward one another became tired and we decided to be friends which then developed into a relationship.”

“And why did we hide it?”

“Because we were embarrassed.” He shrugs and you nod along.

“Sounds good, we can figure out details later.”

Out in the parking lot, his group of friends are all staring at you. “I should get home,” Jungwon says, “we’re all hanging at my place and I know they’re dying to ask me about us.”

“Call me tonight?”

He nods, wrapping you up in a hug, pulling away to kiss your lips.

You can’t help but like the feeling of his lips on yours, or maybe it’s because you haven’t felt the kiss of someone in so long.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re obsessed with my lips. You like kissing me.” Jungwon smirks at your reddening cheeks.

“Please, it’s just been a while. The feeling is nice is all,” you respond, pushing him lightly.

He raises his hands in surrender before walking away, toward his friends whose eyes are on him like a hawk.

“What the actual fuck is going on!” You hear Ningning from a mile away as she quickly approaches you, “Why the hell did I have to find out from Minji that you and Jungwon are dating?”

“I’ll explain in the car.”

Ningning doesn’t hesitate to ask a million and one questions about your newfound relationship, and you answer to the best of your abilities without making too many plot holes.

You tell her about the new arrangement with Jungwon picking you both up which she agrees to easily.

After dropping her off, you make your way home to relax and de-stress.

You shower before changing into more comfortable clothes.

Your parents won’t be home for a while so you sit on the couch, watching Netflix with an after school snack.

You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because when you open your eyes, you’re in your room and not on the couch.

You check for your phone, finding it on the nightstand beside you.

The time reads 8:00pm and you sigh. Now you’ll be up all night.

Your phone begins to ring, Jungwon’s name popping up.

“Hello,” you say, grogginess evident in your voice.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I just woke up. I fell asleep after school, my dad must’ve moved me from the couch to my bed.”

“Okay, good. Did Ningning bombard you with questions? Because my friends did.”

“She absolutely did. I stuck with our plan and tried to avoid any personal questions.”

“Speaking of, I figured we should learn more about each other if we’re gonna make this work.”

You agree and begin asking each other questions.

Favorite color, hobbies, family info, things that a couple should know about one another.

You learn that you and Jungwon actually have a lot in common. You both love action movies, dogs, cats, food of course among other things.

It feels very normal talking to him like this, and not arguing or making jabs at each other.

It feels like you’ve been on the phone forever, checking the time as it reads 10:00pm.

“We’ve been on the phone for 2 hours. It’s crazy how quickly time passes.”

You hum, feeling yourself start to get tired again.

“Are you sleepy?” Jungwon asks, and you hum once more.

“Then we should cut this call here, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The only response Jungwon gets is your quiet breathing on the other end, knowing you’ve fallen asleep.

He smiles on his end, ending the call before going to sleep himself.

The next morning, Jungwon texts you that he’ll be there to pick you up at 7:15, then you’ll swing by Ningning’s.

You get ready quietly, deciding to dress up a bit.

When Jungwon arrives, you get in the passenger's side of his car, wishing him good morning.

“Morning,” he says before kissing your cheek.

You smile, side eyeing him slightly, “You know you don’t have to kiss me when we’re not around others.”

You see his cheeks flush pink, “I know, but I figured it’s better to be as natural as possible.”

“Ah, okay. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just like kissing me,” you say, throwing his words from yesterday back at him.

“Pft!”

You playfully argue all the way to Ningning’s house.

When she gets in the car, she greets you and Jungwon like this is a normal occurrence.

You talk with Ningning the rest of the way to school, with Jungwon chiming in every once in a while.

When you arrive, Ningning leaves first, needing to see a teacher before class.

You and Jungwon get out, and he takes your hand in his larger one while he carries both your bag and his.

“Who knew you were such a sweetheart?” You laugh as he glares at you halfheartedly.

The cafeteria is where students wait for class to start if they’re at school early, so you and Jungwon find a quiet corner to occupy.

His friends come in and make their way to you.

They all greet you, albeit hesitantly as if this is all still one big prank.

You realize you’ve never taken the time to get to know any of them either, just associating them with Jungwon.

They’re actually very funny, making you laugh freely.

When the bell rings, everyone disperses.

Jungwon kisses you goodbye before handing you your bag and making his way to class while you do the same.

In class, you’re just doing self work, but people still talk quietly.

“Hey, Y/N,” a voice says from beside you.

You look up to see Yoona, the girl Jungwon was talking about.

“Hey Yoona, what’s up?” You whisper, trying not to draw any attention.

“I just wanted to ask you… since when have you and Jungwon been dating?”

She’s asking, that must mean she’s at least somewhat interested, right? This could be good for Jungwon.

“A few months. We just didn’t tell anyone cause we were kinda embarrassed.”

“Ah, I see. Good for you.”

You thank her and she goes back to her work while you do the same.

During lunch, which you unfortunately don’t share with Jungwon, you text him about Yoona.

“That’s cool, our plan must be working 😈,” he responds.

You eat with Ningning, gossiping as you always do.

Later on, Ningning texts you to tell you she won’t need a ride home. She has a project to work on with a classmate so they’re going to her house.

That leaves you and Jungwon alone in his car at the end of the day.

“Do you wanna come over?” He asks.

“Sure.”

The drive to his home is quiet, but he stops at the coffee shop to get you both something.

Your large caramel macchiato is delicious and you promise to pay Jungwon back but he dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing’s too much for my girl.”

You don’t know why your heart beats so fast when he says that.

Arriving at his home, you leave your backpack in his car. He invites you inside and a white ball of fluff greets you eagerly.

It’s a dog and it sniffs you before jumping on your legs.

“This is Maeum,” Jungwon says, picking up the dog. “He likes meeting new people.”

“Hi Maeum!” You take the dog into your arms and he nuzzles into you immediately.

After he’s been put down, Jungwon takes you to his room.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” He asks, and you agree.

He lets you choose and you pick a recently released action film.

As you lay on his bed, Jungwon puts his arm around you, pulling you close.

The sunlight from outside shines into the room, illuminating it in a beautiful glow.

As Jungwon seems to be entirely grossed in the movie, you take the opportunity to look at him.

His dark hair is fluffy, his bangs laying on his forehead.

His jaw is sharp even as he’s relaxed and his eyes are big and wide, watching the screen intently.

You admire his face, his nose is long and big, something you’ve always found attractive.

His lips are plump and so, so kissable as you already know.

You can’t help it, you take his face into your hand, turning it towards you.

“What?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

You lean forward, connecting your lips with his.

He responds immediately, pressing harder.

You move before you even realize it, swinging your leg over his lap to straddle him.

You’re making out eagerly, running your hands through his hair while his hands travel down your back to eventually rest on your thighs.

His tongue meets yours as it gets hotter inside the room.

You don’t know how long you spend there, your body pressed against his.

By the time you separate, both your lips and his are red and swollen.

Jungwon’s eyes are narrowed as they stare at you.

“What?”

“You must really like me or something,” he says, giggling as you hit his chest before moving to get off him.

“No,” he stops you, “stay here.”

You end up laying on top of him.

It’s quiet and he’s playing with your hair, gently, trying not to disturb you.

Time passes and before you know it, it’s 8:00 pm.

“I have to go home,” you tell Jungwon, who whines in protest.

“Don’t want you to go.”

“I know, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungwon concedes, and you both get up so he can drive you home.

The drive is quick and he’s bidding you goodbye, not before giving you a kiss.

After doing your night routine, you lay in bed, thoughts full of Jungwon.

It’s only been two days since your plan started but you feel different.

You feel happier, happier than you already were.

Is it because of Jungwon? You feel like the answer is obvious but you’re too afraid to admit it.

The next couple of days follow the same routine. You and Jungwon meet in the morning and hang out after school.

He takes you out for ice cream and coffee, takes you to the local park to have a picnic and more.

This fake relationship starts to feel more and more real everyday.

“Heeseung is hosting a party tomorrow, do you wanna go?” Jungwon asks, watching the tv while you pay attention to your phone.

You look up, “Sure.”

Jungwon hums in acknowledgment, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders.

You unknowingly lean into his chest.

The next day, Saturday, you do nothing until it’s time to get ready for the party.

You find a pretty dress in your closet, one that’s not too revealing but just enough.

You text Jungwon a picture.

y/n: what do you think :p

wonnie ❤️: you look beautiful 🥰 i’ll be there in 5

In the car, you and Jungwon agree to stick together and send a text if you get separated.

The party is already thriving by the time you arrive.

You and Jungwon hold hands, walking through and greeting people.

You find the other guys in the kitchen, pouring drinks.

They greet you cheerfully, handing you a drink of something. You don’t know what it is, but it tastes good so you don’t complain.

You and Jungwon make your way to the dance floor, where your bodies are pressed against one another tightly.

After some time, you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

“Do you want me to come with you? I’ll stand outside?” Jungwon asks but you shake your head.

“I’ll be fine.”

Heeseung directs you to the bathroom upstairs.

You pass by people on your way there.

The light isn’t on and you knock, no one answers.

Once you deem it safe, you enter.

You lock the door and do your business.

After washing your hands, you make your way back downstairs.

Before you re-enter the living room, you hear two voices that sound familiar.

You choose to ignore it, wanting to find Jungwon.

You search for him for 5 minutes before giving up.

Making your way to the backyard, it’s empty, to your relief.

You sit on the outside table, breathing in the fresh air.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” Jungwon says from behind you.

“I was looking for you too but I got impatient after 5 minutes.” You laugh as he takes a seat beside you.

“Yoona came up to me,” he says.

“Oh? What’d she have to say?”

Jungwon takes a deep breath in, “She confessed to me.”

Oh.

“Oh? That’s…great, no? This is what you wanted. That means we can end this whole thing and—”

“I rejected her,” Jungwon says firmly.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “But the whole plan was to get her to fall for you, I don’t understand?”

“I rejected her because I realized that I really like you. I know it’s only been a couple of days but you’re nothing like I thought you were. We feuded because I was being petty. I never took the time to really get to know you. You’re…amazing, to put it lightly. You’re smart and kind, funny, we have so much in common and at this point I don’t see myself with anyone except you.”

You reel in Jungwon’s confession. Here you thought he was going to break everything off.

“Jungwon, I like you too, a lot.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, “You do?”

“Yeah, I’ve realized how sweet and kind you are. The thought of you being with Yoona made me crazy but I didn’t want to get hurt by rejection.”

“Well you don’t have to worry. You have me, no matter what.”

He kisses you, fiery and passionately.

The next day as you walk hand in hand with Jungwon around town, you think you’ve hit the jackpot.

© AEWON 2024

[ch4nb4ng]

Expect the Unexpected

Pairing: Han Jisung X afab!reader

Word count: 9.7k

Genre: Childhood friends to lovers (stoned college edition

Warnings: 18+ explicit minors do not interact. Substance use, sexual acts under the influence of substance use, Kissing, naked bodies, mentions of genitals, fingering, handjob, orgasm, mentions of semen

Tag list: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree

@kpopsstuffs

Note: HEY guys, its been a while, and like actually a while this time.... Had this sitting in the draft for almost a year. Life has very much gotten in the way but i am back hopefully, with the aim of engaging in writing when I feel like and no pressuring myself. Anyways, it's nice to be back and I hope you enjoy.

Summary: There was a blizzard, resulting in your college dorm being blocked from all human interaction. Things are about to, however change when your childhood best friend, and wall neighbour comes over and has other things in mind to pass the time with weed included as one of them.

The first time living away from your family and by yourself was an experience that you very much valued. No curfews, no worrying about what your parents were going to say when you’ve had several drinks at a party, and definitely no nagging to make your bed everyday. Make no mistake, you loved your parents and siblings a lot, it was just nice sometimes to have the complete privacy that was your dorm room every now and then. 

There were moments that you did become homesick. On the contrary to having your own private, personal space, especially during the trying moments of completing long winded assignments, studying for exams, or even just having the feeling of familiarity when you hugged somebody that was your blood. There were always pros and cons to living an independent college life. At this current moment in time, you were experiencing one of the more annoying parts of living in a college building. 

Deep into the winter seasons of the year, while also living in a state that was known for having extreme weather patterns during this time of the year was your least favorite part. Once the news alerted ‘warning, blizzard storm approaching in the next 48 hours,’ you knew that the college would be sending an official email, urging students to stay in the dorms, and barricade all exits.

This was where you were currently at.

Lying in your bed, phone up to your face as you reassured your family through facetime that you were fine and had no plans of leaving anytime soon.

“You guys know the drill,” you smiled, “I’m fine, two days in and I am alive and well, just a little bored.”

“Okay well don’t forget that Jisung’s mother and I got those rooms next to each other so you guys always have a little bit of company.”

“Yes mom I know,” you laughed, “I might text him later. He had an assignment due this afternoon and I don’t want to bother him.”

“Okay love, we will talk to you later.”

“Love you too, bye.”

The sound representing the end of the call rang through the speaker of your phone. The object fell on your chest as you let out a loud sigh, your boredom growing with each second. 

Jisung. Han Jisung was someone that could be labeled as many different things to you. Friend, confidant, best friend, study buddy; home. Jisung was the jack of all trades in your book. 

Knowing each other since the two of you were 10, meeting at a weekend competition of playing mixed teams basketball bloomed into a relationship you didn't know was even possible to have with a man. Jisung was the friend that kind of just stuck, even planning to go to the same college as you. It was a packaged deal, you and him, but it made you laugh, because the two of you could not be more of the opposite. Jisung was the shyer type. Although you met through sporting engagements, that was more something that his parents put him into to see what he liked. He was very intelligent, a strong preference to have his head in the books rather than going out to a new party every weekend. Make no mistake, Jisung was a very polite individual, always talking to those that gave the time. However, he was much more comfortable with people that he knew. In contrast, you were a social butterfly, able to make friends every corner you turned. Parties and drinking every weekend; anywhere but the was where the majority of your time was spent. 

Therefore, when all the buildings on campus were closed, it drove you crazy. There was nothing that could be hated more than being forced to stay inside in your eyes. The confinement always made you reconsider why it was here, in this state, that you chose to attend college. But it was when you heard a knock on the door that you were reminded why. Leg flopping out of your bed sheets, they dragged you to the door, your body sprinkled in warmth when you opened it to your kind looking friend who happened to be smiling back. Your body turned to the side, hand out as he strolled into your apartment, plopping down on the couch like it was his own. You quickly followed, taking the spot next to him as you turned to face him.

“Are you bored yet?”

“Of course I am,” you sigh, walking in front of Jisung as you walk into the living room of your apartment and sitting on the couch, head in your hands, leaning forward so much that you could almost fall off the couch “as if it took you this long to realise.”

“Y/n, the email was only sent out 4 hours ago.”

“Yeah but there was supposed to be a party tonight at Changbin’s frat,” you whined, lips fully pouted, “I really wanted to go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, placing his hands behind his head, legs kicked out on the small table in front of him, “it’s a real shame that the party is canceled.”

Your best friend managed to avoid eye contact, voice dripping with sarcasm. To be truthful, you knew that even though he would go with you, to make sure you're safe of course, and DEFINITELY for that reason only, Jisung would never choose to willingly go to such a party. It wasn’t that he was a complete prude little innocent boy, no. There had been a multitude of times where you could hear him, or the other girls that failed to stay quiet and not echo through the paper thin dorm walls. Jisung just simply wasn’t the type to go out to parties, especially when everyone there was a slobbering mess on one substance or another, especially you. There was a feeling that if you were merely a stranger to him, Jisung would most likely, outside of classes, be a ghost. A myth that supposedly walks down the hallways of your college. Seeing as the two of you were opposite in that regard, you tried to respect Jisung as much as possible. Not bringing your bong, joints, or excessive amounts of alcohol whenever he came over, because you knew if the shoe was on the other foot, he would also do the same. Jisung only had the occasional puff anyway, much less than you, so the need to have it around constantly felt unnecessary.

“Try not to ooze with excitement,” you raised your eyebrows, a fake smile plastering across your lips as you failed to see his attitude change. Good old Jisung for you.

“I’ll try my best.”

“Anyway,” you replied, leaning forward and grabbing the TV remote, pressing the small red power button in the top right corner, watching the plasma screen light up with the logo belonging to Netflix. You turn again to the man beside you, a warmth feeling in your chest at how placid he looked, patiently waiting for you to put something on.

“Is there anything you would like to watch for the next 12 hours?”

Yes, 12 hours. That was you being optimistic that this storm would be quick.

“Hmm,” Jisung hummed, bringing his index finger and thumb to his chin, thinking about what to watch, “there isn’t anything I’ve been keeping up with.”

“Ah I see. Shall we just scroll until we find something we like?”

“Sounds like a great idea.”

Clicking on your profile, the first row of TV shows were ‘Watch it again,’ followed by ‘Top hits for Y/n.’ Nothing really caught your eye, or his seeing as he would say something if he did. It wasn’t until your ‘continue watching for y/n’ that you gasped, loud. The word ‘Bridgerton’ has popped up in continuing. At first you were confused. Although you were an avid lover of that show, you had not watched it recently. It wasn’t until you selected it that you realized a new season had come out. Jisung remained puzzled, seeing as this was not something he had a remote interest in watching. 

“Oh my god Jisung can we-”

“No man,” he complained, “you know this is the last thing I would want to watch.”

“Please,” you begged, placing your hands in the form of a prayer, remote still in hand, “it’s so good I beg of you please to just consider. I’ll do anything.”

“Ugh fine,” he hissed, “but I cannot be 100% sober for this shit.”

Your eyebrow furrowed, displaying a look of confusion. This was the thing you would expect someone like Jisung to say.

“Hmm ok,” you hummed, still slightly confused, “I’ll get my stash of vodka.”

“Hmmm no,” he shrugged, a slightly suggestive glimmer on his face, “something that will be long-lasting, if you’re catching my drift.” 

Jisung raised his eyebrows repeatedly, leaving your mind to imply one substance only. Weed.

“You want to smoke, really?”

“Yes y/n, I want to smoke weed, is that ok with you?”

“Of course it is,” you reassured, “you know that if you were here or not I would probably do it anyway.”

“Okay.”

“Done.”

“Okay, and we have to watch from the beginning or I will go back to my room.”

“Yes yes okay fine,” you leaned over, pressing a grateful kiss on his cheek, “you’re the best. I’ll get my stash now.”

You scurried off to your room, quickly, opening the small draw on your side table next to your bed. Your stash, the prized possession that was the calm before the storm. Smoking in your downtime was something that you very much looked forward to, especially if you were unnecessarily stressed out. Your face lit up and the clouds of dark green hue clouded the plastic bag that was in your sight, fingers grasping the edge as you wiggled back to your original spot. Although you agreed, it was strange of your friend to want to just smoke out of boredom. The only time you had seen him do it was at small gatherings, and even then, it was one puff and done, usually followed by heavy chest hitting coughs. It always made you laugh. It also made you feel bad, knowing that if he didn’t hang around with you, he probably wouldn’t do these kinds of things. Jisung was an adult who could make his own decisions, but there was always part of you that thought about him, his family; would they approve of him doing this? It was a lot to think about sometimes. 

It was Jisung’s turn to hold the remote, flicking back to season 1 episode 1, before scooching closer to you. Jisung was keen to get in on the action, something you were definitely not used to. He went to reach for the paper, but you grabbed him by the wrist, making him pause for a moment.

“Jisung, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” he smiled, unsure why you were asking such a question, “it’s not the first time I’ve done it y/n, relax.”

“Yeah I know,” you shrugged, “it’s just, I’ve only seen you smoke once, and you looked like you were about to cough up your lungs.”

“Oh,” he sighed, looking away in embarrassment, “you saw that?”

“Unfortunately, I did.”

“Yeah well I can do it,” he barked, somewhat getting defensive, pointing at the TV to deflect from his deficits “you’re making me watch this shit.”

“Okay okay,” you whined, letting go of his wrist, “but please let me show you how to roll and smoke a joint properly so you don’t actually hurt yourself.”

The two of you giggled simultaneously, resulting in Jisung reluctantly nodding in agreement. He watched closely as he watched you open both bags, paper on the right, weed on the left.

“Okay so,” you began to speak, “firstly,” you paused again, using your index and middle finger on your right hand to slide into the plastic, “I like to slide my fingers in like this, touching the least amount of paper possible.” 

Jisung pushed his lenses right up to his face, making sure his concentration was avid; missing a step was not an option for him. Once the sheet was out of paper, you placed it on top of the plastic. You like to take pride in your work, especially being a part time stoner, of your supplies. Seeing as it cost you a significant amount, it felt wrong to not get the best out of your product. 

“Then,” you continued, “you get the bag with the goods, and I like to,” pausing again, opening the bag and grabbing one cluster, “just crush it in my fingers as small as I can, and sprinkle it in a line across the center.”

He nodded again, observing how smooth your fingers were, fingertips sprinkling green across the white square placed in the table.

“Are you following?”

“Of course,” he nodded, furrowing his eyebrows to show his concentration. Jisung swallowed a nervous gulp, remembering that he really had no idea what he was going to do when he coughed his lungs up one more time. Yes, he was concentrating on how you did it, but he couldn’t help it. His cognitions were descending into the gutter, especially watching the two fingers he tended to use when he was in lewd acts himself. It made him nervous. 

Sure, there were intrusive thoughts about you being a part of his fantasies and desires, but Jisung knew better than to act on something that came from pure lust. Instead, pressing his lips together, attempting to stifle the giggle that threatened to erupt from his lips. You, however, were too smart to not notice him suppressing his laughter. Your elbow nudged his side, a sheepish gaze as you began to question him.

“What’s so funny?”

“What,” he questioned, puffing his cheeks and shaking his head, patting your arm, “keep going.”

You decided to shrug it off, not letting his immaturity obstruct you from your prized possession. Next was the rolling. Lifting the paper with the utmost precaution, the material was brought to your lips, tongue sticking out as your lips lay a thin layer of saliva to coat the edge of the paper.

“See what I did with my tongue?”

‘Oh god,’ was all Jisung could think, mind once again heading straight to the gutter. All he could think about was what your tongue, if it was positioned under a different appendage, how different it could be. His testosterone was raging, but once again, he knew better. To Jisung, nothing could be worse than putting his own selfish wants ahead of your friendship. However, the longer he stared at you practically making out with the joint, licking it up and down, side to side, making sure the two ends stuck together, the harder it became to push his thoughts away from such dirty crevices of his mind. The torture was over for him once you withdrew the now complete joint from your lips. You were satisfied with how it turned out, a smile of approval, and a hint of arrogance plastered on your face.

“And that’s how you do it. Now your turn.”

“Ok,” he sighed, “swap spots with me so I can do it.”

“Yes sir,” you mumbled, playfully rolling your eyes you obeyed, allowing your best friend to now sit in front of the two bags. He followed your steps with ease, using great precision with his fingers to eject the weed and paper from each plastic container. He was natural. Only the two fingers, being the same ones you, strategically rolling the two digits back and forth. He was swift, nimble, adjectives you normally liked to use when you felt the touch of a man. It was your turn to swallow nervously, a small pit of arousal brewing in your lower abdomen as the small pelts of green substance dissipated across the center of the paper, just like you did. Holy shit, how could something as simple as rolling a joint be so attractive? Jisung brought a hand to his hair, running it quickly through the brown mop to get it out of his face, aiming to let no obstacles get in his way. He gave you one look, a gaze of concern when he noticed your eyes glued to his hands. 

“You okay?”

Your eyes shot straight to his, attempting to not be mesmerized by the joyful expression covering his features. Fuck, why was his smile having such an impact on you right now? He chuckled, assuming that you were just playing around, but in reality, you were definitely distracted by the attractiveness of your friend with a sudden fresh washed mop of brown hair, glasses, and shining complexion of the side of his face as the light from the window cascaded across the high points of his cheeks. You faked a smile, nodding as you egged him on to continue. Panic began to settle in however when you saw the bare tip of his tongue coating the corner of the white material. Holy shit, he really was a natural. Licking the edge right across in one swift motion, not using too much saliva, yet still using enough. It was almost offensive how much better his joint looked compared to yours. But that was just what Jisung was: a perfectionist with little effort in trying to attain said perfection. He didn’t stray too much out of the norm, yet when he did try something, he was always good at it from the first try. Sometimes it made you wonder what other things he would be good at. But that was for another time, with a similar mindset in the fact that a brief thought of sexual fantasy was not worth more than your friendship. Especially if he didn't reciprocate, the awkwardness after would be something you most definitely could not handle.

“Woah,” you gasped, grasping the joint out of his hand, intensely observing it from each angle, “I knew you would be good at this.”

Your best friend beamed at your approval, eagerly waiting for the next step. 

“Oh my lighter, I’ll go grab it now.”

You forgot before, but this gave you time to completely subtract those devil filled thoughts of Jisung by not looking at him for a brief moment. It worked, because as soon as you opened the drawer and saw your lighter, all you could focus on was lighting that shit up. 

Coming back to the living room once more, you placed the fire breathing object on the table, offering Jisung to go first. He looked hesitant, unsure how or where he should start. It was adorable when Jisung was like this, because he was clueless not very often. You decided to pick it back up, pressing the flicker down once to ignite the flame.

“Do you want to go first, or would you like me to go first?”

“Uhm,” he hummed, “I think you should go first, you know, show me how to do this shit properly.”

“Okay,” you chuckled, letting go of the flicker on the lighter, handing it over to him, “well I usually don’t light my own joints so would you do me the honors?”

“Of course,” he purred, the smoothness of his tone delivering a sudden pulse to your core. You leant forward, completely forgetting that your clothing was completely revealing by all means. The looseness of your long sleeve white shirt was telling, the action of leaning forward exposing the subtlety of your cleavage. You could see Jisung’s eyes travel straight to them, but only for a brief moment. He was trying to be as respectful as he could, but it was impossible when your chest was right there. His thumb dragged with ease, flame luminous as he brought the orange tipped flame to the edge of your joint. The tip turned dark immediately, and the taste of the herb came with that. The sensation was immediate, as you grabbed the joint with two fingers, pulling the object away from your lips and letting the warmth of the smoke spilling, down your chest,  and back up again, eyes fluttering shut as you puffed the smoke from your lips, the feeling of nostalgia hitting you.

Jisung watched you in awe, amazed at how easily smoking came to you. He wanted to try so bad. He wanted to prove to you that he could do something that you did not expect of him. But he was patient, waiting for you to open your eyes before he started. 

“Mmmm,” you hummed in pure bliss, lifting your eyelids slightly, “that is some good shit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yessss,” you hissed, grabbing onto his hands holding the lighter, sliding it out of his hand “your turn. Place the joint between your lips and lean forward.”

Jisung did as he was told, adjusting his positioning to being abnormally close to you. You didn’t pay much mind, the small flame igniting once again, but you paused, almost forgetting that he in fact did now know what he was doing.

“Ok so once I light this,” you paused, using your free hand to squeeze his jaw, “are you listening?”

His eyes widened at your sudden touch, a small nod which was obstructed by your somewhat firm grasp.

“Ok so once I light this, take a small breath in, hold for a second, and blow it out.”

“Yes maam,” he smiled, looking deep into your eyes before you passed him the bud, waiting for him to grasp it between his two fingers. When he does, still keeping his eyes on you, simultaneously feeling your brain drop slightly at how intense his gaze was in this very moment, lips forming into the shape of an o as the paper came to his lips, taking the smallest puff, and blowing it out. You were impressed, seeing this was the first time he smoked anything without coughing his lungs out. A smile came to your lips, proud of your best friend in the moment.

“Woah,” he sighed, finally breaking his stare, eyes changing towards the blunt. His chest descended as he took another puff, turning back to face the tv as his back gently slid into the couch. 

“How was that?”

“Is it crazy that I already feel more relaxed than before?”

His response made you giggle, glad he was enjoying himself. 

“I told you,” sighing as you snatched the blunt from his grip, taking a long drag, “I only smoke the high quality stuff.”

“Sure do,” he growled, sinking deeper and deeper into the couch. Jisung grabbed the remote, pressing play on the TV, greeted by a girl in a royal style gown. He forgot that it was Bridgerton that got him here in this predicament. 

***

It did not take much for the two of you to feel the consequences of smoking. One thing you hated to admit was that you craved the presence of someone next to you when under the influence. But not just like in your orbit no. Like needing a lack of personal space. To be suffocated. Which is why the two of you were sitting the way you were now. Your legs atop of his own, head buried into his chest, with your arms wrapped around his torso. 

The intrusive thoughts always won when you were high, which is how your fingertips came to be not just on your best friend, but under his shirt, skin to skin contact. You couldn’t deny that the texture of his defined build, muscles budding at each ridge was hard to miss. 

Bridgerton had been playing, but if anything, at this point, it had become background noise, the main noise becoming the tension that thickened between the two of you with each passing minute. Although the relationship was close,the idea of  intimacy was never something that had come up as a thought. Sober you, and sober him, would never do such a thing. Feeling that maybe it would cross a boundary. 

But the usual thought did not cross your mind. Or his for that matter, Jisung’s digits generously spread across the outside of your thigh, dangerously close to your behind. It felt nice, honestly. Yes, you had your fair share of one night stands. Male attention followed you, easily, whether you were looking for it or not. With that being said, however, it had been a while since you remembered what a real man's touch felt like. Especially your best friend. Being a biology major, Jisung was consistently practical in the lab, using his hands in the most intricate ways. Whether looking at a small piece of bacteria in a microscope, or dissecting an organ of some sort, he was always using his hands, and boy, was that evident when you felt the texture of his callous palms spreading across the back of your leg. 

The puffing came to a halt, joint burning down halfway to its bud, but it was enough to heighten your senses. The two of you looked at each other, eyelids a little more droopy than usual as the both of you giggled, looking back at the TV. By the time the two of you were actually paying attention to the storyline, Daphne and Simon were getting married.

“So what’s the premises?”

“Premises?” You giggled, finding humor in your best friend’s speaking mishap.

“Yeah like,” he paused, maneuvering your body to be closer to his, leaving now no room on the couch between the two of you, “like what’s the show about.”

“It’s a period romance show based on a series of books.”

“Ohh, I thought you didn't like to read, you fucking nerd.”

“Oi,” you nudged him, completely missing the side of his arm and falling onto his chest, “I don't, that’s why I'm watching the show instead.”

“Right, anyway, go on.”

“Right, so Daphne and Simon basically pretended to be together so this other guy, creepy as fuck, wouldn’t have to marry her. But then they realized they developed feelings for each other but are both inendial about it so they're discussing the topic on their wedding day and just going through with it because it was too late for them to change their mind.” If either of you did not see the irony in this situation.

“That literally made no fucking sense,” Jisung sighed, using his free hand to scratch the back of his head, “but to be honest, I really can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”

“Damnnn,” you gasped, leaning up to look at him, “you’re high.”

“Yeah pfft,” Jisung hummed, keeping his glazed eyes focused on you, “I feel like I can just say or do anything right now.”

“That’s the beauty of smoking Ji,” you smiled, turning away and facing the screen. It was at this point that married TV couples were in their honeymoon suite. If you were being honest, it was hard to keep up with the dialogue due to the speed and the actual content being in old english. It was much less difficult to follow the visuals, their facial expressions, how they spoke. It was still captivating, watching the two actors get close and closer, right until their lips met. As they continued, the room felt silent yet tense. The two of you watched adamantly as things began to heat up, Simon assisting Daphne in undressing herself. It was then that you felt Jisung adjust himself under your legs, brushing him off of you as he sunk back into the couch. You thought it was strange, but you decided it was better to ignore it, remembering how mesmerizing the scene of Daphne and Simon making love for the first time really was. As they moved to their new bed, Simon hovering over Daphne’s innocent body, a new sensation was forming in your lower abdomen, but it didn't stop there, unmistakably flying right to your core, again. While recalling how mesmerizing this particular scene was, you also forgot how much it aroused you simultaneously. This was a mistake. Being high and horny was not a good combination, especially when Jisung, your best friend, was sitting next to you, previously with his hands on you. It was probably better to disregard these lustful feelings, they surely would pass.

“Oh shit,” Jisung mumbled, grasping for the small decorative pillow next to him, placing it over his crotch area, “this is um, wow, it’s uh-”

“Yeah I kinda forgot,” you replied before facing him, noticing the now pillow covering the beginning of his lower limbs. At first you were confused, eyebrows furrowed at why he would do such a thing. Instead of minding your business, and beating the paranoia of not knowing what he was doing that was amplified after smoking, you were now  holding the pillow, the sounds of Daphne’s moans and groans the only noise that could be heard. As soon as Jisung noticed your grip on the pillow, he resisted you, not wanting you to see what was happening underneath the soft object.

“Jisung,” you laughed nervously, genuinely confused at his behavior, “what are you doing with my pillow.”

“Nothing,” he hushed, attempting to dismiss your question with the tone of his voice floating thin into the air, “keep watching.”

He pointed at the screen, head nodding in the same direction as you let go of the pillow and focused on the TV. But that was the worst mistake you could have made, because it was Simon’s turn to undress, and once he did, it really was game over. The two of them there, completely naked as he began to thrust into his new wife. Simon’s grunts were short, staccato like, while Daphne was more graceful, each moan spilling into her husband's ear as the two of them went at it.

“Fuck this is making me really horny.”

As soon as your best friend said that, he brought his fingers to his lips, leaving your jaw dropped. Did he really just say that, or were you hallucinating?

“Woops,” Jisung mumbled, “the weed is really making me lose my filter. Sorry.”

You should have hated that he blurted that out. Letting the intrusive thoughts win, especially when high, was not a good sign. But it brought the ache that momentarily dulled right back. Looking back at the screen, Jisung now removed the pillow and revealed his full hard on through his thin fabric sweatpants: it was becoming too much. Now suddenly, the only thought that stayed consistent was wanting the same thing on the TV. Right here. Right now. With Jisung. Your best friend.

“Don’t be sorry,” you cooed, moving closer to him, “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t either.”

He said nothing, only gasping in a subtle manner as Jisung looked at you, all of a sudden your features projecting to him as illustrious, appetizing. Jisung wanted nothing more than to devour you in the current moment.

“Is this normal?” 

Jisung’s voice was so nonchalant, tone lacking concern or hesitation at your lack of proximity. It was kind of adorable, really. The normal friend you knew was one to freak out if he ever did something like this. Usually so prim and proper in every setting. In contrast, there was something sexy about the way he was acting. Sure, actions had consequences, but thinking with clarity was not a priority.

“I would say so,” you purred, voice soothing as your fingers crept onto the front of his knee closest to you, “weed makes me horny too.”

“O-oh,” his voice shook, suddenly a little nervous by the prospect of you touching him in a possibly arousing way, “Y/n.”

Jisung’s voice was breathy, chest heaving very slowly as his eyes shot down to your body. Suddenly, your best friend was amazed by every single curve and creativity of your figure. As he brought his hands to your behind, it suddenly felt so soft, hands unforgivingly slipping past the waistband of your shorts, making direct contact with your skin. The contact made you hot, using your free hand to fan yourself. Jisung took the hand of yours that was moving deathly slowly along his inner thigh off of him, body now on his side facing you as he withdrew his hand groping your ass. Instead, he moved it around to the front, but rather than dipping straight into your folds, he slipped in the layer under your outer layer, opting for the space inbetween, digits spreading across your core covered by the miniscule fabric.. It was better this way, he thought. The sensation of touch was much more sensitive under the influence as he wanted to feel every texture of your body that was possible. You giggled at the brush of his gentle touch, a small gasp quickly following up once you realized that his fingers, although not making direct contact, were feeding that arousal felt between your legs. Like scratching an impossible itch. His eyes were already on you when your neck turned, facing him. 

“Shit,” you breathed, “you’re really good at that.”

“I’m barely touching you,” he hissed, lips getting closer to your own. What is happening right now? You should be saying no; rejected his advances. Your best friend. Jisung. The shy, little boy you had known him to be all of his life. But the longer his fingers pushed around that sensitive button of yours, the more your legs spread open for him, hips gently bucking to reach for more surface area of his fingers. His confidence was charming, almost too much so. It made you want more and more, so much so that your internal conflict of stopping and telling him to keep going was disappearing with each lingering moment. Rationality, once a perplexity in your mind disappeared the moment his lips landed on yours. God they were sweet, soft; every texture that you know felt pleasant was coming to your mind the moment they moved against your own. His free hand came to the side of your face that was farthest away, index finger spread across your jaw as he moved his tongue, deeper and deeper, maintaining his dominance over you. Fuck he was a good kisser, a whine erupting from your throat at how flexible his mouth was, bending over backwards to make sure that you were happy with the pace.

“Mhm,” you hummed, pulling away from a brief moment to remove all bottoms, panties included. All your best friend could do was chuckle, deeply, the shade of his eyes turning as dark as you had ever seen when he saw your bare pussy out, for him. His fingers latched on immediately, using the index and middle finger on one hand to spread your lips, the other fingers on the opposite hand barely scratching your clit. The feeling almost made you wriggle out of your seat, mouth agape across Jisung’s cheeks in a sloppy effort to maintain composure of any sort.. Everything was happening so fast. All it took was barely one scene for the two of you to let down your guards. Pretending that your friendship meant nothing. It was never friendship. Jisung would be a ghost to you if the two of you had not been friends since childhood. Maybe there were in fact other reasons that the two of you stayed this way. The moans and groans of the girls he would have over, filling up the bare distance between your room and his, always had an effect on you. It was then when you started to question what he did to those girls to make them feel so good that you were doomed. It was easy to act like a crazy party girl in front of him, knowing that he would never want to be with someone like that, and by doing that, it would push those little feelings right down to where you had the ability to forget them. Avoidance was always key.

But then Jisung would bring you food while you were up doing an assignment, buy you a bouquet of flowers when it was your birthday. Even the way he would talk to your siblings back at home was enough. Jisung was enough and maybe now, by getting these hormonal feelings out, which felt like heaven, was enough to admit that this would not be just a high rendezvous for you, but something real. 

“You’re like really wet,” Jisung hummed, sliding his fingers closer and closer to your whining entrance, “always wondering how you would’ve felt like this.”

“You have?”

“Oh yeahhhh,” Jisung replied, sarcastic, as if it was super obvious, “all the time.”

“Fuck that’s so hot,” you moaned, gripping his wrist, bringing the digits specifically up to your lips for a moment,  taking his DNA into a deep thorating motion The two fingers he was about to use now utterly drenched in your slick before navigating them down your body, circling your entrance before effortlessly plunging them straight into your hole. Jisung could have creamed himself then and there. Due to the sensitivity of his first time being high, he knew that if he was going to fuck you today, he truly would not last long, at all. But instead of ruining the moment that way, he decided to make it all about you. Wanting to view you squirm under him, make his best friend: you feel good. It is something he has been patiently waiting for. Jisung was a giver, and if he wanted to give you a toe curling orgasm on your couch to make you happy, he was going to do so, whatever it took.

As soon as he fingers reached the end of your whole, the two of you moaned in unison, the sound of squelch that was your arousal already an intense volume.

“D-don’t think I’ve been this wet before,” you whined, waiting for Jisung to gently pull them out.

“Really,” he questioned, genuinely baffled, “no one ever made you this wet before? Find that hard to believe.”

Your hips wriggled, desperate to feel the friction of him moving back and forth. However he was so mesmerized by the texture of your velvety walls against his digits, that he used his other hand, coated in your slick, to relieve himself, the encounter resulting in Jisung becoming much too impatient to bother taking his pants off. Your eyes shot straight to the small motion you were witnessing of him moving his hand against his cock. Oh, his length must feel so good like this. Once Jisung began to move his fingers that were inside of you, a string of curse words easily fell from your lips, unable to control anything that came from them. The sensory overload was at peak, and if you were sober, feeling overwhelmed would be an understatement. 

With that being said, you were not, and neither was Jisung. The brooding tip that was his cock gently nudged your inner thigh. As he continued to grow, it had nowhere else to go. The simplest of touches felt like a million times more than when under the influence. But it had to be a culmination of things. Seeing Jisung dominate in something, take control. Fuck. Hearing those girls in his dorm had more of an impact on you than you originally thought. 

Your mind drifted to those memories for a brief moment, the faint moans of the girls, but it suddenly occurred that you never knew what he sounded like. Jisung was a silent fuck? There was no way. 

Your gaze drifted, Jisung immediately noticing and pausing his fingers with immediate concern.

“Y/n?”

Your head turned back faster than your eyes, deep in motion. It was silent, the TV pretty much non-existent as you grabbed him by the jaw, index finger and thumb strong on his mandible as your eyes fixated on his lips.

“How come you never moan when you fuck?”

Jisung panicked at first, a laugh following immediately after, the contagious sound making you laugh too. Your body was limp for a brief moment, falling off of your best friend's lap and next to him on the couch. Jisung ripped his glasses off his head, throwing them onto the table in front of him, allowing him to get a genuine look at how hot and flustered you truly were. Solely because of him.

“What are you talking about,” he giggled, fingertips immediately grabbing the flesh of your thigh, any part of you was good to him, as long as he could get his hands on it, right now.

“How would you know if I’m a silent fuck or not?”

“Because,” you smacked him lightly, letting him remove his hand from your skin “I can hear when you fuck other girls, pfft,” you huffed, lifting your legs in the air to discard your bottoms that were puddled around your ankles, “they’re always so fucking loud man.”

Jisung’s cheeks blushed in the tiniest form. It’s not that he was embarrassed. Okay, maybe part of him was a little embarrassed, completely caught off guard and forgetting that the walls in the dorm were paper thin. Part of him felt guilty that you had to hear that. He began to pout, but immediately dropped his lips when he realized that you were half naked. His fingertip immediately wrapped around each hip, forcing you to sit on his lap and face him. You lifted your hips, eyes signaling down to his pants that were overdue in needing to be removed. Jisung complied immediately, whisking his sweats and boxers off in one motion, causing his hard length to meet with your soaked core, his tip prodding gently at your folds. You bit down on your lip trying as hard as you could to focus on Jisung’s face, rather than focusing on how erect his cock was against you. Jisung tugged at your shirt, gawking when you lifted your arms to see no other material supporting your chest. Jisung was mesmerized once again. Another surface area that he wanted his hands on immediately.

“I can’t believe you heard me fuck other girls and never said anyti-”

“Shhh,” you hushed, pressing your folds firmer against Jisung’s cock. Your best friend reach for your hips immediately, in shock of your bold actions, “I don’t fucking care Jisung it’s fine just touch me, please.”

“You don’t have to ask twice,” he huffed, palms snaking past your abdomen and gripping onto your tits hard, firm, rough. Ugh. Nothing had ever felt so good in your life. All this time you thought Jisung was a stupid little pathetic boy, with the occasional fuck here and there. God, it would almost make you laugh at how incorrect your perception was of him in the bedroom. Truth was, he knew what he was doing, because your arousal was doing nothing but increasing with each longing moment that his wood was not inside of you.

“Soft fucking tits,” Jisung mumbled, almost drooling as he slapped one of your nipples, the skin imeediadtely turning hard as he brought his lips to to the bud. His teeth appeared, claws like, as he took the same one in his mouth, not returning for breath as he nippled, licked, sucked; you name it, Jisung was doing that. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, head rolling back in pleasure, “how are you so good at everything you do?”

A chuckle escaped Jisung’s lips, the vibration felt across the entirety of your chest, “I’m not I-”

The two of you paused, freezing entirely when you heard Jisung’s phone ring. He glazed over, noticing the words “Mom” written across the top of the screen. He looked away as he turned back to you, that look of hunger dilating his pupils. The temporary freeze made Jisung long for you even more.

“Jisung,” you whispered, hands placed across his face and upper neck, “you should answer.”

“No,” he huffed, attaching his lips over your neck sporadically, “if it’s an emergency she’ll call me again. I’m busy.”

The phone was silent for maybe a few seconds, before it began to ring again. Jisung scoffed, removing his hands from you as he picked up his phone. 

Your joint and lighter were in arms reach. You ignored the conversation, bringing the material to your lips and lighting it up again, your body relaxing even more as you took a deep breath in, feeling the substance sink into your skin, blowing out the remnants after. Your eyes turned to Jisung, his already on you, eyeing the joint in your hand. He leaned forward, waiting for you to put the joining between his lips. You complied, bringing the flame in unison. Jisung mumbled his words for a brief moment before blowing out the air.

“Yes mom,” he answered, “I’m fine. Y/n is fine, I just checked in on her.”

A small giggle came to your lips, followed by Jisung covering them. Removing his appendages, you decided to stand up, letting go of Jisung on his lap as you dropped to your knees. Like a predator, you crawled over, eye level with his knees. Jisung’s brows furrowed, taking him a bit of time to realize what you were about to do. He was still on the phone, talking to his mum about god knows what. That wasn’t your focus for now. It was spreading his legs wide, Jisung’s hardness evident as it spread across his groin. Your lips curled upward as you situations yourself where you needed to be, Jisung’s eyes widening as he realized what you were about to do.

“Yes I am s-sutdying hard,” Jisung shuttered, the sudden touch being your hand wrapped around the base of him startling him, “j-just finished one a-assignment today.” 

A deep, lustrous chuckle escaped your mouth as you began to pump him, watching your best friend’s sensitivity, squirming at the touch. Jisung was doing everything in his power not to moan, prevent knowing how much effect you had on him, and form his mum knowing what he was doing.

“Mom can I c-call you back l-later, bit b-bust, busy right now.”

Jisung’s body jolts forward the moment he felt your tongue on the underside of him, making its way to his tip. He hung up the phone, tired of this torture as his hands found their way through your hands immediately. His sign of eagerness felt so good, the gentle tug from him begging you to go down on him completely driving you wild. The pain mixed in with pleasure immediately, traveling to your core and pulsating harder than it has ever felt in your life. Jisung was lengthy, but that was no problem. Beginning, slowly, you took him into your mouth, a guttural moan bleeding from his lips as his head rolled back with ease. 

“Holy fucking shit,” he gasped, almost running of out of room to breath, “you’re so fucking good at this baby”

A slight moan fell from your lips at the use of the pet name. Jisung’s head snapped back down immediately to you, catching your gaze in an instant. Your eyes looked bigger to him, doe like. It was driving Jisung wild; he could’ve finished right then and there. Being high and having the elevated physical sensation from your magical touch was something he could live with forever, maybe become addicted to. If this is what life felt like under the influence, he now wanted this all the time.

“Mmmh,” you sighed, a large pop and breath coming from your lips as you replaced your hand, “you taste so good Sungie.” 

Your free hand traveled down your body, descending to the apex between your thighs to satisfy that ache that was growing with intensity with every second passed. The attempt to hide your pleasure was amateur, biting down on your bottom lip as a stifled groan left your lips.

“Y/n, baby,” Jisung purred, leaning forward and grabbing your forearms, “come here.”

You did as you were told, helping him hoist you back onto his lap. The brush of him against you this time is 10x more powerful and intense. Nothing had ever felt like this before; you never wanted this to end. Jisung scanned you again, looking up and down one more time before seizing the hem of his shirt, ripping it over his head. You gasped, hands immediately clamping onto him as you leaned forward, reattaching your lips to his.

Above everything, Jisung’s lips felt the best. This symbolized so many times, conscious and unconscious, did you think about how they would feel. What they would taste like. How other girls thought Jisung’s lips tasted and felt like. Jisung smiled as he pulled away, the devilishly handsome smile on his face as he leaned into your ear, “sit next to me baby.” 

It seemed that the only thing you could do was be obedient to Jisung. His orders were like music to your ears. In your friendship dynamic, you tended to be the more domineering one. Making decisions for Jisung, whereas he was the more nonchalant friend. Always happy to go with the flow, as long as he was with you. This time, may things were different.

Jisung sat in the same place with his legs spread. Leaning over, he grabbed you by the thigh closest to him, fingers dancing across the skin on the inside of your thigh as his lips turned upward again. All of a sudden you felt nervous. Watching your best friend ogle you was a strange feeling. Jisung immediately noticed your energy shift.

“Y/n.”

“Yeah,” your eyes widened, looking directly at him.

“You okay baby?”

“Yeah? Yeah! Sorry, let me have another puff.”

Jisung saw you grab the joint and the lighter again, bringing to your lips before he reached for your wrist, pushing the objects away, forcing your attention to be on him only.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“No,” you interjected, bringing the material and lighting the tip once more, “I fucking want you. I just zoned out for a second.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips, followed by his cheek, back of the ear and down to his neck, cascading hisdown to the middle of his chest. Jisung giggled at the feeling, the tickling sensation emitting fire throughout his body. He returned the favor, placing a kiss atop of your breast before he reached for his own joint, handing you the lighter, “Will you do me the honors?”

“Fuck yes I will,” you marvelled at his enthusiasm, lighting up the joint without a hesitation, watching him sit back and close his eyes, taking everything in. You did the same, wanting to embrace that feeling that resulted in you buying this in the first place. 

It was as if the last puff recharged your best friend, his eyes reopening, that dark, lustful caste creeping back into them as he reached for you, pushing your leg out of the way, hand clasping your inner thigh. There was no sign of his movement stopping, fingers already pushing your folds across, almost as if they were in the way completely. A sharp gasp fell from your lips the moment his middle finger touched your clit, the sensation overwhelming immense as he began to move in circular motions. Jisung’s touch was gentle, in reality, he was barely applying any pressure. But in this moment, the pleasure you were deriving from his fingers was tenfold. Eyelids were fluttering, it felt like you could barely keep up with him. It wasn’t until you saw Jisung’s cock twitch out of the corner of your eye that you knew what you had to do. 

It was time for your hand to snake around his body, but, in contrast to Jisung, you did not want to wait. There was no time to tease; you were simply too desperate. Fingertips found his weak spot fast, dexterity sloppy wrapped around your best friend once again as you matched the pace he found on you. It was slow, sensual, anything to build the pressure between your thighs, and between his. 

“Y/n, baby,” he whined, a deep groan following, “Your hands are my favorite part of you right now.”

A seductive chuckle escaped your lips, “Your hands are my favorite part of you right now too Sungie.”

“Fuck I love it when you call me that with your voice all fucked up and groggy.”

“Sungie baby, I always call you that,” you paused, bringing short circuiting from the finger that Jisung slipped inside of you, “what’s so d-different about it now.”

“You always turn me on Y/n,” Jisung grogged back, “always,” he smiled, pausing again, “especially right now.”

A small heat came to your cheeks, hips gently dragging across his fingers. God, was this what heaven felt like? Your hand picked up in speed, Jisung reacted immediately with a gentle whine. The noises he made to you were like an orchestra playing its grand piece. Another side of Jisung that you had not seen, but were mesmerized by. It was a whole new world. A whole new territory of risk that the two of you had decided to explore. However, all rational and logical decisions were thrown out the window a very long time ago. Jisung wrapped his free hand around your breast, clasping onto your nipple as he entered another finger into you, index and middle finger picking up their pace, adding the squelching sound of your wetness as another sound that filled your tiny dorm room. Dorm room. You forget momentarily how thin the walls were; but who gives a fuck? It’s not like Jisung was going to hear. He was the one that was making you moan over and over anyway.

“Sungie,” you whimpered, “feels so good.”

“Say my name like that again.”

“Sungie.”

“Fuck,” he growled, pushing deeper into your walls, “your pussies screaming for me.”

“It’s your pussy,” you breathed, the tremors of your release beginning to rumble, “no one has ever turned me on this much Sungie.”

Your best friend had a smirk of approval, curling the tip of his two fingers inside of you. A small shriek escaped your lips, hand flailing from his cock as your jaw dropped at once. Hips bucked up and off the couch, a sinister chuckle coming from Jisung as he watched your hips squirm for him. He was possessed by the way your body reacted to him, reacted to his touch, he did not pay two minds to the throbbing sensation between his legs. All he could see was that you were slowly losing it. 

You did not care. You were waiting close and closer, deeper and deeper, hitting a spot that has never been touched in your life. Your mouth was getting bigger, hips moving with less and less rhythm. There was an impending feeling that you knew was going to happen, it was only a matter of seconds. 

“Sungie I’m gonna-”

“I know baby,” Jisung cooed, eyes fixated on your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your jawline, “cum for me.”

A borderline scream left your lips when your hips plowed to the couch, an rupture of pleasure cascaded of the entirety of your body, legs shaking and howling in pain like they never had before. Your chest was breathing heavy, deep in unison with Jisung’s as he removed his fingers, your pussy aching from the lack of fullness. Jisung leaned over, pressing a kiss to your neck in several places before your lips. He waited until your eyelids stopped fluttering shut for you to see him bring those sinful digits to his mouth, and suck on them, hard, a deep groan leaving his lips at the taste. 

“Fuck you taste good,” he winked, causing both of you to start giggling. 

It did not take long for your eyes to travel to his still very hard cock. Your hands traveled immediately, both encompassing the majority of him before you began pumping, hard. To anyone with an outside view, this was not classy sex. It was sloppy, but the two of you were so high that it was perceived the former way. Jisung needed your touch, you needed to touch him. Jisung wasn’t far off either, and the fact that you were looking at him with vigor, with desire was bringing him closer and closer to the edge. 

“Y/n slow down, I’m gonna cum too quick.”

“No such thing,” you purred, adding your tongue into the mix, flicking your tongue along the slit of his tip.. You leaned over, Jisung resting his hands across your ass as you coaxed one moan after out of him. Jisung’s head snapped back, unable to comply with the amount of pressure he was feeling. In a similar fashion to you, his hips began to buck, tip slipping into your mouth as his sounds got louder, his pleading becoming stronger.

“Y/n fuck, s-shit I’m gonna cum, Y/n I’m gonna cum.”

Jisung’s voice became whiny, the tone music to your ears as you moved your mouth away from his length, bringing your lips to the crook of his neck and collarbone, gently nipping on the soft spot on his skin as his muscles coiled underneath your body, cock getting harder under his hands as he hit his peak. Ropes and ropes of him squirted across his stomach, a deep groan, one sounding of relief bursting from his lips as he gripped your wrist, chuckling to stop you from a sensory overload.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, regaining his compures as he grabbed you by the neck, pulling you into a deep, deep kiss. The pressure on your neck was comforting, a smile turning on your lips as you pulled away. 

“Wow,” Jisung gasped, “That was,”

“What took you so long?”

“Y/n, shut up,” Jisung spat, the fatigue hitting him suddenly, “woah, I’m fucking exhausted.”

“I tend to have that effect on people,” you smirked, the room erupted in laughter as Jisung laid back on the couch, pulling you into him as the two of you looked at the ceiling. Your substance affected mind was starting to wear off, causing your exhaustion tenfold. The two of you drifted off to sleep almost immediately. 

“When I wake up, you're gonna get it,” Jisung mumbled, but you were already asleep. 

Depending on how you felt when you woke up, that would change everything.

[hanjisungslag]

hiiii!! so sorryyy idk if you take requests BUTT could you do headcannons of being in an argument with the aot characters?

🗣️ aot characters & arguments

characters involved: eren, armin, mikasa, connie, jean, sasha, reiner, annie, bertolt, erwin, levi & hange

notes: i do take requests indeed!! :3 i luv angst, i hope this is gd♡

✧ eren jaeger - 

okay, when you guys argue it’s honestly more cute than anything because you’re both so protective of one another. neither of you wanted each other to join the scouts because it was so dangerous but, you both joined anyways obviously. oh my god, you guys non-stop bicker when there’s a mission! and don’t even get me started if you get put into different teams😭 you start TWEAKINGG. after he finds out he’s the attack titan, oh it gets 10x worse. his absolute biggest fear is losing control and hurting you - he’s already so conflicted, confused & felt like an outcast. he definitely lashes out more and becomes snappier than usual but, it does come from a place of sincerity.

when this happens, you just leave it be. as soon as it’s not just bickering anymore, when a voice is raised or an insult is made, you just leave it. you understand he’s going through a lot and just needs a minute but, TRUST ME! when you walk off, you make sure it is known that your feelings are hurt.

“i said no! you are not being on my team! im going with the levi squad, thats final.”

✧ armin arlert -

you both love each other very much but, goddamn you’re both so up your own arses! you are the ‘smart couple’ you are both strategic and witty and have your own way you go about things. so, when it comes to deciding whose plan is better, you always think yours is better and admin thinks his is better. this has (and probably always will be) the main root of your arguments, tbh. nobody likes to get involved either because if someone picks a side then even more havoc will break lose. the only people who’ve ever come between you two is: mikasa, levi & erwin.

it’s just like a debate, you know the ones on jubilee where it’s just people speaking over each other with different facts and sources? literally you two. you both would keep going until the end of time if you didn’t need to sleep, eat and drink water. it’s never that serious at the end of the day, you both love each other and i GUESS you can appreciate each others plans albeit you both think yours is better.

“if you actually listen to me when i say, my layout is better! look at how easy it is to manoeuvre from the castle to the forest!”

✧ mikasa ackerman -

wash the damn scarf. that is all you ask of her. she has literally never washed it and you love but jesus christ, stink LINGERS. not only do you think it’s weird she doesn’t wash it but, it’s also from eren… now, you know mikasa’s lore, of course. however, it’s really hard to get over your girlfriend having this deep love for this smelly scarf that her ex-crush gave to her after he literally saved her from being kidnapped. at first, you try to ignore it but it gets to a point where you sit down and talk to her but, she is not having it. she clearly cares very, very deeply for this scarf and will defend it. it’s really awkward conversation that slowly turns into raised voices and some opinionated things being raised.

“why are you getting jealous over a scarf? that’s so stupid! i just have fond memories with it!”

✧ connie springer -

again, not so much major arguments but just bickers. it usually starts as a joke but slowly but surely divulges into an argument about something stupid. one time, someone ate the last of jean’s meal that his mum made for him and he saved until today, obviously he was super upset and jokingly you blamed connie. at first, all was well, laughs were being heard and he even poked fun at you but, somewhere along the way it became more serious for you two, you genuinely suspected connie of eating jean’s meal and connie was getting visibly more upset.

“that was so not me! why are you telling them that?! i didn’t eat it, y/n!”

jean regretted asking who ate his food.

✧ jean kirstein -

jean is unfortunately a jealous guy. not for any malicious reasons, he’s just a bit insecure gang! he’s more scared that you’ll leave him for someone ‘better’ more than anything but, these feelings of insecurity manifest as jealously. he’d get jealous over you spending time with people like eren, mikasa or armin. in so many aspects, they’re better than him (in his eyes) and this will just make him reallyyy pissy. being in an argument with jean is painstakingly ambiguous like he never straight up says it, it’s always sly remarks or dry responses from him for a while. eventually, you know something is up and question him but he will avoid answering like the plague and it’s just so, so frustrating! eventually, when you break your calm demeanour, he will also break his ‘nonchalant-ness’ and just shout about how he feels.

he crossed his arms, “i just don’t understand why you need to be around him so much, you have me?”

✧ sasha braus -

absolutely nothing. i’m sorry but, she is too sweet and loving. IM SORRY, i’m sorry… i tried so hard to think of something but this queen is too perfect. at most, she would snap at you in high stress situations but she would never turn it into an argument. for example, if you told her to slow down her eating because you’re going on a mission but, she hasn’t eaten much that day she may snap and tell you to “let her do what she wants” but, she’s sooo quick to recover and apologise. literally not even giving you a second to even think about arguing with her!!

“ah, i’m sorry. you’re right, i don’t wanna be sick while flying through the air, huh?” she pouts.

✧ reiner braun -

you’re both from marley, you know damn well what you’re doing here but it seems reiner is straying off path. you’re there to try and remind him why you’re there and this leads to so many arguments. his split personality also plays a role in the arguments because it’s so.. scary and confusing for you because one moment he’s defending eldians than the next, he’s shouting at you about how he ‘knows the plan’.

when talking about stuff like this, since it’s extra sensitive for reiner he definitely flips out. i’m talking shouting, angry grunting, clenching his fists into balls and holding them against his forehead so he doesn’t fully crash tf out. he’s just as confused and scared as you are about his split personality but, he doesn’t want to seem weak or to seem like he’s losing sight of what is ‘right’ - it gets him really worked up. obviously, you stand your ground against him, he doesn’t scare you when you’re arguing. you’ve known him for so long.. you feel like he just needs to be guided.

“when did i ever say i liked them? yes, they’re okay people to be around for now but— no, i never said that! i know what they are, you don’t remind to tell me, y/n!”

✧ annie leonhart -

just the fact she’s cold and distant, it makes it really hard to actually have a relationship with her. at first, she was closed off COMPLETELY but cracks began to show and eventually, you thought you were at a good point with each other but, you kind of realised you didn’t know that much about annie. you try to ask questions to get her to open up but, she is one tough egg to crack so eventually, you just ask! hoping to help her more than anything but, this leads to an argument…

after this first argument, it became pretty regular like once every few weeks this would happen. you get super frustrated because she acts like she doesn’t even care! so, you’re shouting and getting really passionate while she sits there, looking pissed off and bored, rolling her eyes and scoffing. she doesn’t see the need to open up to you, she’s done what she thinks is ‘enough’ in her books.

“what do you want me to say? i’m not an open book, that’s just how i am. we’re all gonna end up dead, anyways.”

✧ bertolt hoover -

sigh… oh bert. every time you feel yourself developing further into your relationship with bert, his friends seem to pull him back. you’re still not quite sure why and they always seem to be giving side eyes or glances when he talks about his life - its starting to piss you off, rightfully so. you feel like he’s got two other side hoes watching yours and his every move! you being this up in subtle ways as to not seem like a crazy, jealous partner but eventually you burst and tell him how you really feel.

arguing with sweet bert isn’t fun because you can tell he tries so hard to please everyone in the situation, whether it’s you, him or now in this case, his friends too. he will raise his voice but, not in a bad way just in a general sense, things are getting heated, his voice will raise and he will fling his arms and hands. he’s a very expressive man when arguing because he is so passionate about it.

“y/n, they’re my friends! they’re just trying to protect me, why are you jealous?”

✧ erwin smith -

there’s so such things as arguments in your relationship, erwin likes to call them ‘mutual disagreements’ as your both in the scouts, he knows your time is limited. it’s a morbid and pessimistic way to think but, you have to be realistic when you live such a deadly lifestyle. he doesn’t want to take your time together for granted - plus, he’s a MAN like, he is calm and collected and will always hear you out.

you both start off calm, having a mature conversation about whatever it is that is bothering you but, when you start getting rowdier that’s when erwin quells the flames quickly. he takes a deep breath, hears you out and calmly walks you through it all. he’s so compassionate about it, i cant omg. he’ll gently place a hand over your own hand or on your shoulder if you’re standing, letting you know he’s present, he’ll sweetly talk you down, eventually calming you down and usually you’ll both say apologises or just general sweet statements and move on!

“i’m sorry, y/n. no, i’m glad you talked to me about this.”

✧ levi ackerman -

oh lord, being in an argument with levi ackerman is nawwtt fun. i’m sorry but, i’d kms if i argued with levi 😭. this man has such an awful resting bitch face as it is but, imagine his face when he’s arguing with you? IF LOOKS COULD KILL. he cant hide his emotions, so when you’re arguing even if he’s trying to be somewhat nice, his face says it all. usually he’ll roll his eyes and scoff if it’s something minor, he’ll hear you out, maybe give a half arsed apology or some sort of nice gesture to make sure you’re not upset however, if it’s a big issue oh brother…

silent treatment, i fear. he is so bad at communicating his feels correctly and often feels confused because this mf ain’t been in love before?! it gets too a point where he’s so mad, he just cant even begin to think of anything to say to you. you’ll be there raising your voice, becoming so passionate and when you ask what he thinks, he’ll say “i have nothing to say.” then boom, silent treatment. however, he’s bad with his words… but good with his actions. he still wants you to know he cares, you two could be in the most rancid moods but, you’ll go to your room and find your clothes ironed and folded🥲.

✧ hange zoë -

oh my sweet hange, my probably neurological challenged sweet hange… an argument with them would definitely stem from them spending more time with titans than you. when sawney and bean were around, you weren’t getting ANY time of day with them, trust. at first, you didn’t want to say anything because of course, you understand! the lifetime you guys are living in, things like hange’s research is soo important but, you can’t help but feel neglected sometimes.

when you finally bring it up, an argument ensues. neither of you really shout or anything, it’s just that kind of weird sort of raised, high pitched voice people get when you’re really frustrated. you both stay relatively calm for the situation you’re in but, you can totally tell you’re both so frustrated because hange just doesn’t see the problem. when you guys argue like this, it usually just goes in circles and after a while you both decide to mutually give up and leave it for another day.

“it’s all for science and the greater good of humanity though, i don’t understand?”

[pawpaws-paralegal]

This projected such a vivid image into my mind that I had to write it:

“I’m almost to twenty-five patches now. If I get thirty by the end of the year I get to be a level three Green Scout, so I really need to get more patches,” Bev mused, perusing the Green Scout handbook from the floor of his bedroom.

“That’s so cool, dude. I just got to level two and you’re already ahead of me,” Erlin responded from Bev’s telescope.

“I know you’ll get there soon. We’ll work together to get a ton of patches at the Jamboreen,” Bev said, still looking through the boo. As his eyes passed over one of the patches, he frowned.

“What’s that one? Scoutmaster Denny hasn’t told us about it.”

“I don’t know dude. I think Egwene has that one, but she didn’t tell me what it is.��

Beverly frowned further.

The next day at school, he ran up to Egwene brandishing his handbook. “Egwene! Hi! What’s this patch? Erlin told me you have it.”

She looked at him like he was crazy (even more crazy than usual). “Um, that’s a pride patch? For, like, when you’re gay?”

“What’s gay?” Beverly asked, innocent as can be.

Egwene usually had a quick retort in situations like this, but the kid’s honest, wide-eyed naïveté caught her completely off guard. “It’s like, when you’re a boy and like boys, or a girl and like girls, or like both boys and girls.”

“I like boys. Does that mean I get that patch?”

Egwene pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. I mean, like, want to kiss. Now let me go, doofus.”

As she walked away, she could see the wheels in Bev’s head turning. She chose not to ponder the implications of that interaction.

Later on, as Bev and Erlin were walking to the green teens meeting, Bev turned to Erlin. “I know how to get the rainbow patch we saw yesterday. Egwene told me.”

“Really, dude?” Erlin replied, eyes lighting up. “How?”

“I have to kiss you and that means I’m gay and can get the patch,” Beverly replied matter-of-factly. “I think you can get the patch too then, if you also kiss me.”

Erlin stopped. “Dude. What?”

Beverly also stopped. “If we kiss, we both get patches. And I know Cran doesn’t have this one, so we’d even be ahead of her.” He paused. “Can I kiss you? You know, for the patch?”

Erlin was still standing there, stupefied. “Uh. Sure, dude? I guess?”

Beverly put his hands on his hips, surveying Erlin. Then, quickly, he stepped forward and pecked Erlin on the mouth. He then turned and ran towards Scoutmaster Denny, who was walking a little down the road, shouting, “Scoutmaster Denny! I kissed Erlin! Can I get the gay patch now?”

Later that night at dinner, Bev noticed his parents are looking at each other, then at him, then back at each other a lot. His mom whispered something to his dad, and then his dad sighed. “So, kid. I heard you got a new patch today?” he asked, in a tone that indicated he felt very awkward having this conversation.

Beverly, thankfully, did not pick up on this tone at all, and kept shoveling his green beans into his mouth. “Yeah. I kissed Erlin and got a new patch, so I’m even closer to level three!”

Beverly Sr. nearly choked. “And, uh,” he asked between coughs, “do you want to kiss boys? Other than to get the patch?”

Beverly stopped, looked pensively into his green beans, and thought for a second. He looked up, responding. “Maybe. I think yeah if it’s Erlin.” And without a second thought and without noticing his parents’ dumbfounded expressions, he finished his green beans.

The next Green Scouts meeting, Beverly noticed Erlin wearing the rainbow patch too.

i like when people give bev's sash a little pride flag patch partly because it's cute and partly because it could imply the green teens organization has a Being Gay Patch which would be really funny since bev was a patch completionist early on

[kurishiri]

18.5 . . . “ a meaningless emotion ”

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— 🤍 his side story, chapter 18. this is one you can purchase on your second play through of his route.

— cw: the very end may be considered suicidal ideation.

Alfons: ...I think I’ve had just about enough of this blasted sob story.

I slipped out of the bed and changed——if I loitered around the castle, running into her would be a pain.

(Today there’ll be some merrymaking happening amongst the eccentric nobility.)

It wasn’t as though I wanted to go out of my way to go there, but it was a perfect way to kill time.

—— Time skip ——

Alfons: Alright then, what shall we bet on next?

Drunken man: I got it! How about this oil painting that my old man said was his most valued one, not that I know anything about it!

Crossdressing woman: Did you steal that? Vincent… huh, who is this? Never heard of him. Isn’t it just a cheap thing?

Alfons: Hehe, I must say it’s quite unlike nobility to worry over the value of the good.

Crossdressing woman: But it’s not so exciting, you know, it’s better to have something that shows its value.

Alfons: Well then… how about I give a dream where “this painting is worth 500 pounds?”

Man smoking a cigar: Oh, that’s a good idea.

Whether it was nobility, drunken people at some street corner of the bar, the orphans at the East End, and what have you, they weren’t so different.

They would find any pleasure they could through gambling, liquor, or sex, so they could live while avoiding their pains and worries.

Drunken nobleman: Hey, Al, is that rumor about you having a recent favorite true?

Noble lady with gloves: Al, you mustn’t become someone’s partner! We need you to stay a star of all single nobles.

Alfons: Yes, yes, such was my intention.

Drunken nobleman: So you say, but your heart’s already taken by that person, isn’t it?

Alfons: Hehe, I digress.

Man smoking a cigar: …Let’s just leave it at that. If we question him any more, he may never come again, and that would sure put us in a bind.

Man smoking a cigar: Even if his heart’s got its sights set on someone, it’s fine as long as he shares some of that pleasure… isn’t that right?

Noble lady with gloves: Well, I suppose. Ahh, I hope my father gives up on matters of my marriage soon…

(‘My heart’s already taken by that person’… huh.)

When I heard those words that seemed to embody the soul of romanticism,

Kate was the one and sole person who came to mind, and for a moment, I felt called out.

——You hurt me so much and leave me in the dust, but now you decide to commit? That’s just cruel…!

At some point, the little robin had made its home within my mind, making an angered face and suddenly turning away.

(Hehe… it’s not as though I’m committing.)

Alfons: Perhaps I do have some guilt left in me… ah, it’s a straight flush.

Drunken man: Al’s win again?!

As I was staring in a daze at the trump cards raining and fluttering down,

just as I had intended, time melted away into idleness.

I ended up drinking through the night until dawn and having a meat pie from a street seller for breakfast, I returned to the castle, and——

Alfons: Oh?

In a stroke of bad luck, I happened upon Roger and Miss Kate walking together.

Kate: Ah... w-welcome back.

Roger: Hey there, Al.

Leaving aside the mentally strong former doctor who, regardless whether he was aware he was being hated on, would initiate a conversation with a light tone and carefree smile,

Miss Kate very obviously looked awkward.

(I can’t even flatter your acting skills.)

She was the complete opposite of me, who had a lot of practice when it came to plastering on a smile.

Alfons: Well I’ll be, are you on your way to a most friendly outing, the two of you?

Kate: Ah, no, we’re...

Roger: What, curiosity got you piqued?

As if to make a point, Roger wrapped his arm around Kate’s shoulder snugly.

Kate: Roger!? What are you doing—

Roger: Alright then, let me fill you in. We’re gonna be spending the whole entire day holed up in a locked room, just the two of us. Let’s get along now, yeah?

(This man needs to get a hobby.)

(I hardly have any intention of hopping on that cheap provocation.)

Alfons: Oh my, is that so? It would appear you’ve found yourself a lovely playmate while I was not around. I’m happy for you, Miss Kate.

Kate: …

I gave a smile to convey I didn’t think anything of it, and Miss Kate, as though hurt, furrowed her brows.

(Aha, you poor soul, you.)

I figured she probably wasn’t clinging to Roger in hopes that he would heal her broken heart.

I knew very well that she was hardly the type to be able to do such things.

Her single-mindedness in facing me no matter how much I refused or hurt her was staunch to be sure.

(And that’s exactly what makes her different from me… I suppose.)

(Well, whether she’ll make it out safely from the basement after being alone with this man is a different story…)

(But it doesn’t have anything to do with me, so.)

The moment I tried to leave, Miss Kate opened her mouth, as though trying to pull me back.

Kate: Alfons..!

Alfons: ? Yes, what is it?

Kate: ...I still very much like you.

Alfons: ...Come again?

Roger: ... (O_O)

It was such a sudden confession of love, I stiffened out of instinct.

(………Has she gone bonkers?)

(You do know I’m the man who played your feelings of love, and to top it all off, told you it was all a ‘nuisance’ and left the bed, right?)

And yet she still insisted on pouring these dazzling words on me; what else could I think her as, if not crazy?

Kate: Even if this all amounts to a nuisance to you... this is the ‘truth’ for me, so.

Alfons: .........

(Ah, now I’ve done it. This should be the part where I laugh it all off.)

I needed to make her think that, no matter how earnestly she threw her feelings at me, they would never get through, so she could give up on me.

(So that these feelings of love she holds for me amounts to nothing but garbage…)

(I need to laugh at her, to deny her——)

My mind knew that, and yet for some reason, my lips couldn’t form a smile.

Kate: Okay, we’re going, Roger.

Miss Kate, seeming as though she wanted to run from my silence, ran down the staircase leading to the basement.

Roger: Pfft, haha... I feel like I haven’t seen you so dumbfounded in forever.

As Kate’s footsteps grew more distant, I heard an unpleasant laughter.

I hated how this man would not seem to pay any mind to the feelings of others like that.

Alfons: ...Oh, believe me, she is far from the first who’s rendered me so positively dumbfounded like this.

Roger: Hmm? So is it safe to say she’s no different than anyone else to you then?

R: Because if so, I may or may not end up stealing her away for real.

While slowly turning for the staircase, those egoistic lips showed a provoking smile.

Roger: After all, it’s not like you’d really care what happens to a toy you don’t need anymore, right?

Alfons: ………

Perhaps the reason I felt displeasure rise up from within me was because the one before me was a man filled with haughty arrogance.

Or was it because she was the one getting stolen?

(Whichever it is, I shouldn’t care for the answer.)

(Because, in any case, I didn’t have such a choice to step even further into her life to find the reason for this temporary displeasure.)

If that was the case, thinking on it was foolish. And yet——

Her lips, which were trembling as she declared how she ‘still liked me,’

the palms of her hands, which were gripped tightly together as though grasping onto courage,

and those eyes that looked so directly at me, as if to say to not misunderstand,

were all engraved into the back of my mind, refusing to let go.

The heavy footsteps going down the staircase grated on my ears, severely so.

For the feeling of a favorite toy being stolen away, it felt extremely bitter.

(Is this… jealousy? Me, of all people? But, how?)

The notion of getting something I said I didn’t need taken away, and then still feeling displeased over it and whatnot, was much like a child’s selfishness.

And besides——

(…The most I was able to do was imitate love, feeling nothing but emotional disconnect.)

Alfons: …I suppose the biggest mystery to one is themself.

Labeling the jealousy I felt that bubbled up from somewhere in me as ‘meaningless,’ I threw it behind me.

Thinking on it more would only make my helplessness more clear than it already was.

Hoping to idle the time away, I walked to my room, when all of a sudden, a certain question came to mind.

(Come to think of it, if they’re not doing anything shady, then what in the world are those two doing in the basement…?)

For a moment, I felt a sense of unease.

Miss Kate, who had said she ‘still liked me,’

was with Roger, the one who spouted off some nonsense about ‘changing fates’ and whatnot,

and they were in the basement, where a lot of documents concerning ‘Cursed ones’ were abundant, which would mean…

Alfons: …Now that just can’t be. She wouldn’t be so much a fool as to not know when to not give up, would she.

I denied it with my voice, but my chest got more and more filled with that uneasy feeling.

(What if, even after I pushed her away this far, it was already too late?)

(What if she poured even more of her feelings into me, continuing to spend more time with me——?)

Alfons: …Should that time ever come,

A: Perhaps I should simply up and disappear, just like that.

← back next →

masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️ ╱ comms 🤍

NOTE: this is the last his side story i will translate, and the last chapter i will translate concerning alfons main story. thank you for accompanying me so long in this translation, to those who have read it all! it really means a lot to me! i enjoy translating for al lots, and i hope that came through as you were reading overall 🥹🙏

to those who will be reading his route in en, i hope you enjoy what this roller coaster of a route has to offer! theres a lot of complexities woven into his route thats sure give you something to think about. i translated this last chapter to close off the project, putting in my best wishes for you 🫶

i have heard from those who have read what i did for elbies main story that reading my tl has helped enhance their reading experience in en, and i hope this can do the same for you! or if you cant afford the premium stories or dont want to grind for these his side stories, i hope i could provide a way for you to access them more freely. again, thank you to everyone who has supported me, read my tls, interacted with these posts, etc.

its largely thanks to you that i can close this project and look back on it with positive memories! 🪞🤍✨

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia

[confiaenanaa]

Hi!! Could you do one in which Em meets reader's parents and he's nervous they won't like him and keep asking reader how to dress, what to say or do??

nervous - eminem

fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Marshall's nervous about meeting Y/N's parents.

A/N: had a lot of fun writing this one! I know my chapters are short and stuff, but I hope that soon I'll be able to get one out that's super duper long for you guys!

Marshall had never imagined he’d be sitting on his bedroom floor, surrounded by piles of his best clothes and shoes, all for a girl. Well, not a girl; the girl. Y/N was his diamond, his crown jewel. He adored her in every way possible, which is why he was stressing so hard over meeting her parents. This was a very big deal to him; if her parents didn’t like him, what would come of the relationship? 

-Fuck it. 

That’s what he kept muttering to himself as he dialed Y/N’s number in his phone. It rang once, twice, three times, and finally…

-Hello?

-Hey baby.

-Oh, hey, Marsh! What’s up?

-So, I was picking out what I was gonna wear tonight when I realized that I have nothing!

-You’re so dramatic, you have a huge closet! You’ll find something in there.

She was right. He had a plethora of clothes in various styles. There had to be at least one decent outfit somewhere among the mass of fabric tainting the cleanliness of his bedroom. Sadly, he still thought none of it was good enough.

-I actually don’t. Nothing here is nice enough to wear to meet your parents.

-Marshall, my parents aren’t some strict, stick-up-the-ass, crazy people. They don’t really care about what you’re wearing as long as you don’t look homeless.

-Have you seen what I wear? I do look homeless!

-No… you look like a classy homeless man. There’s a difference.

-Baby, I’m serious. I’m real stressed here.

Y/N sighed at his apprehension. He truly was ridiculous at times. 

-What do you want me to do about it?

-Well, can you come over?

-Fine. Be there in 10.

Y/N hopped in her car after throwing on some clothes and took off. She herself needed to get ready, but that need not be mentioned. She’d figure it out. Once she pulled into his driveway, she saw him standing at the door, visibly anxious. Y/N stepped out of the car and greeted Marshall.

-Hey, baby.

-Hey. Help me please.

He sort of jogged up the stairs and led her to his bedroom. Y/N audibly gasped at the mess he’d made. Clothes strewn all over the floor, shoes on the table, perfumes thrown on his bed, the man was a wreck. 

-Good god.

-I know. I have a bit of a mess. But, ignore that. Can you help me pick everything?

-Yeah. Yeah, okay.

Marshall went through the mess finding outfit after outfit. Y/N said all of them were fine, but he wanted his outfit to be great. At this point, Y/N was saying they were great just to get him off her ass. She was running out of time to get ready. 

-Baby don’t lie to me! Tell me if the clothes are actually good, please.

Y/N groaned and stood up from her spot on the bed. She went over to the pile farthest from them and grabbed a nice shirt. Then, she went over to a pile of jeans on the other end of the floor and picked up a pair of jeans that were nice and hadn’t touched the floor yet. Next, she found the shoe pile and grabbed a matching pair of nice jordans and a nice smelling perfume in the pile next to them. She put it all together in front of Marshall and his jaw dropped slightly. 

-Wha… how did you…?

-Magic. Y/N shrugged. She finally went over to the closet and grabbed the nicest clothes she could find from the small and, quite frankly, lacking collection of clothes she kept at Marshall’s house.

-Wow, baby. You look… great.

Marshall looked like a man reborn; a phoenix reborn from the ashes. He was a new man. He looked classy and spiffed up. He wore nice jewelry and a nice watch, but not so nice as to draw attention or to gloat upon his success. 

-Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.

Y/N smiled as Marshall grabbed her hand and guided her to his car. She knew that her parents would love him no matter what, but she still liked teasing him and making him work for it. 

-Well, are we going?

[gobitobi]

Hi there! Could you please write a izuku x victorias secret angel model! Reader? It can end with smut or whatever you want! :)

hiii!! thanks for requesting an izuku fic, i love him ☺️ i don’t write smut but i can totally give you something! let me know if this is what you wanted! :]

pairing: izuku midoriya x afab!victorias secret model!reader (both aged up to 18+)

summary: you’re a model for victoria’s secret, but something feels off about the new set of lingerie you’re given to model with. it doesn’t fit your body in a way that you want to show the world. you feel super self-conscious about it, and when you tell your boyfriend izuku about your insecurities, he does everything he can to make you see what he sees: pure beauty and amazingness.

content: fluff, comfort, reader is afab and has a female body but doesn’t have to identify as female, izuku is very touchy, there are tummy and thigh kisses but no smut!

enjoy!! :]

“Izuku! Kimiyo just sent me my new set,” you said as you picked up the new package from in front of your apartment door. Your boyfriend looked ip at you with a sweet smile. “Go try it on!” He encouraged you. You nodded excitedly and dashed to the bedroom.

It only took you a few seconds to put the lingerie on, since it was only a 2-piece set. You looked in the mirror, expecting to be blow away by it, since you loved the color and the fabric.

But when you saw yourself in the mirror, something felt off. It just felt… foreign. You couldn’t quite place it, but something was off. Maybe it was the way it didn’t hug your body in the way that you liked, or maybe it was the unfamiliar fabric. But it didn’t flatter you.

Izuku knocked on the door. “Baby? Can I see it?” He asked. You felt really bad for not wanting to show him because of the way you thought you liked. You gave a hesitant “yeah,” and the door opened. He stared at you, his mouth agape, speechless. But his expression soon faded when he noticed how you covered your body with your arms, slouching. It wasn’t familiar to him; usually you were very proud of your body.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. You pursed your lips and exhaled through your nose. You only shrugged in response. “It doesn’t feel right,” you said unsurely, fully expecting what was to come right after you said that.

Izuku recoiled, like he was personally offended. “Baby, what?” He walked closer to you, taking your hands in his. “What’s wrong? Why doesn’t it feel right?” He asked, guiding your hands along your body with his own. You hesitated, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“I can’t place it exactly. It doesn’t fit my body correctly,” you explained quietly. “My thighs look so weird and my stomach looks… I don’t know. It just feels wrong.”

The sadness in Izuku’s eyes grew more and more. You felt your eyes widen as he brought himself to his knees, caressing your hips softly as his hands left yours. “What are you doing?” You asked. He leaned in and pressed a few small kisses to your stomach, his breath ghosting along your soft skin.

“You said you didn’t like the way your stomach or thighs looked, so I’m here to make you feel better,” he said, his voice muffled by your skin. You chuckled, making your stomach convulse under his lips. Your hands moved to his hair. You scratched his scalp lovingly, making him sigh.

He moved down to your thighs, pressing soft kisses to the plush skin that covered your muscles. “Careful, Izuku,” you said with a smile. He nodded, his eyes still shut. “I know,” he said in response.

He soon brought himself back to his feet, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. “Do you feel better?” He asked. “I’ll only leave you alone when you feel like royalty.”

You chuckled and leaned into his touch, your forehead resting on his shoulder and your hands on his chest. “Yes, I feel better,” you replied. He nodded and chuckled, the ends of his green hair tickling your cheek. “Good,” he said. “Now, let’s go watch that new show that just came out. I heard it’s really good.”

He guided you to the couch and covered you both in a cozy blanket. You spent the night in his arms, warm and comfortable. You knew he’d go to immeasurable lengths to make you see what he saw: utter beauty. An ethereal being, even. He’d climb Mt. Everest in a bathing suit if it meant you knowing how beautiful you are.

[apomaro-mellow]

Runaway Royalty 10

Part 9

Eddie spent the rest of the evening convening with his inner circle in one of the cave’s alcoves, speaking so quietly, there wasn’t a way to figure out where the conversation was going, even when Steve found reason to go by the mouth of it no less than three times. Not that he was counting. No, Robin was and before he could make his forth pass, she hooked her arm with his and dragged him off to the space she’d taken as their own. 

“I’d say you look as lost as a child but I’ve never seen a pup so forlorn as you right now.”

“I do not!”, Steve pulled his arm away and sat on the blankets provided to them.

Robin knew that pose. It was his ‘I’m going to sit in front of my vanity and primp’ pose that he did. Usually to ignore someone until they went away. But as he didn’t have a vanity-

“Where did you get that?”, Robin gasped as Steve took out a compact mirror.

“I always pack the essentials”, Steve said, looking himself over, fluffing his hair with one hand while the other held the mirror.

Robin rolled her eyes. “You can’t ignore me forever with that little thing.”

“I can ignore you just long enough.” He brought the mirror closer, looking for what, Robin couldn’t tell. Steve would spend hours in front of his vanity and Robin could never tell you what Steve had even changed. But he always seemed satisfied by the end of it.

Robin plopped down next to him, scooting until her head was in his lap. Steve was able to hold out for approximately thirty seconds before looking down at her. Only to see her eyes had gotten big, round, and wet. Steve groaned.

“Don’t use those against me. I’m the one who taught you how to do that.”

“I learned from the best”, Robin pouted.

Steve sighed and put the mirror away. Robin smiled in triumph and sat up, leaning her shoulder against his. Steve sighed again and nuzzled the top of her head. She may have been an alpha and he an omega, but he was still her big brother. That five minute difference meant something to  him.

“What are you thinking about?”, Robin asked.

“It’s silly.”

“Sillier than running away from home?”

“It’s as silly as thinking that we may need to return home”, Steve confessed.

Robin blinked and pulled away. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Eddie said that Prince Edwin’s disappearance is causing distress among his kingdom. With you and I gone, our kingdom won’t be too far behind.”

Robin frowned. “You don’t think there’ll be a coup, do you? Or a war? Just over us? There’s still a whole line of succession.”

“Having three royals suddenly disappear is no small thing”, Steve said.

“Yes, but we didn’t know about Prince Edwin when we did it”, Robin pointed out. “And do you really want to be apart from Eddie?”

Steve brought his knees up to his chest. “You know I don’t. I know this is just infatuation but I…it’s silly.”

“You’re very silly today.”

“Could it not become a true romance? If it were given time?”

Robin laid her head on Steve’s shoulder and rubbed her cheek against it, scenting him. “I think whatever you want to do, you should do it soon. It feels like our path and his will diverge soon.”

That night, they cuddled up close together and fell asleep. Royal blood dictated that after a certain age, they had to sleep separately. Common folk typically slept with their pack in nests but if the royal family did so, it made it all the more easier for assassins. They’d both missed being able to sleep with each other.

But when morning came, Robin tugged his ear gently, coaxing him awake. It might have been gentle, but he was still annoyed by it and tried going back to sleep. 

“You have a gentleman caller”, she whispered into his ear.

Steve stiffened and then quickly relaxed. He whispered back. “How long?”

“He’s been stalking for about ten minutes.”

He wanted to slap her. “And you didn’t wake me?”

“I’ve been trying.”

Steve turned onto his back, pretending to stretch and yawn, then rose to a sitting position. He fixed his hair up a bit just in time to hear Eddie’s footsteps move across their cave. But instead of continuing, as if he were patrolling, he paused at the mouth of it.

“Oh, you’re up.”

“I am”, Steve said, voice soft.

Robin could have rolled her eyes but she refrained. She knew Eddie was trying to talk to Steve but was being annoyingly coy about it. It was a little funny though, watching Steve put on the whole ‘demure omega’ act.

“Well good morning to you. And to you Robin”, Eddie gave a bow.

“Good morning Eddie. I assume you have business with my brother, yes?”

“That I do, if I may have your leave”, he said as he rose back up.

“Hmm, I don’t know, the last time you two were left alone-”

Steve threw the blanket off of himself, into Robin’s face and got up to meet Eddie at the mouth of the cave. “Ignore her. She doesn’t know when a joke has gone too far.”

Eddie chuckled as he watched Robin struggle under the fabric. “Oh but ‘tis no joke for me. She is your kin and an alpha at that. I intend to do right by the both of you.”

“And to what end?”, Steve asked.

“I invited you both to join my pack. That makes you my responsibility.”

“Is that why you wish to converse with Steve alone?”, Robin asked, finally getting to her feet.

Eddie’s cheeks flushed and he hesitated to answer just long enough for Robin to scoff. He was so incredibly obvious. He and Steve deserved each other, truly.

“Go on, the both of you. Just remember sound travels in these tunnels.”

Now Steve was blushing but he was already rushing Eddie out. It was odd, how short they’d known each other and yet he couldn’t wait to get him alone again.

“So what did you want to talk about?”, Steve asked, their arms linked together.

Eddie’s heart swelled when their gazes met. He couldn’t believe he’d come to care for someone in such a short amount of time. He may need to return as Prince Edwin, but that didn’t mean he had to part from Steve, did it? Eddie wanted to believe his fiance would understand. Wherever he was. Maybe Prince Stephen had gone to elope with his own lover, Eddie couldn’t be sure.

The only thing he could be sure of was the fact that he wanted more time with the omega on his arm right now. Not some faceless royal who he’d never met. Eddie led their stroll across the main cavern, towards his own space.

“I meant what I said. I invited you and Robin to join us. And I know we haven’t officially set it, but I already consider the both of you pack.” 

Eddie felt emboldened when he could smell Steve’s interest. When they got to his den, Eddie sat Steve on a pillow. One that seemed like it was meant for nicer places than a cave. A blanket over the mouth acted as a privacy curtain for the space.

“You heard what I said last night. I have to return home. Someone else will lead the bandits. But you and Robin you could…” Eddie knelt in front of Steve. “You could come and stay with me.”

“S…stay with you?”, Steve breathed out.

“I want to court you the way you deserve, Steve. For longer than a day, for longer than a month. You deserve love letters, and courting gifts, and for me to earn Robin’s approval.”

“You would do all of that? Welcome us into your home and promise me all of that?”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hands. “I may not look like I come from much but we’ve got plenty of room.” It was all Eddie had thought about last night. Bringing Steve into the castle, introducing him to his family and being allowed to show the world his love. It was unorthodox, a prince courting and then marrying a commoner. But it was what his parents had done. That was something he’d been entirely truthful about.

Not many knew exactly what happened to the Bandit King. But Princess Tannis falling for someone below her station was well known. His parents would be hypocrites to not accept Steve. If they had a problem with it, he’d run away again. But Steve was meant for the throne.

“If I accept…”, Steve started, his hands smoothing up Eddie’s arms. “Would we be allowed to consummate the courtship?”

“I don’t see why not”, Eddie said, his own arms coming around Steve’s waist and bringing them to their feet. 

Their faces got close, pausing to savor their scents mixing when the blanket was pulled back, revealing Gareth. “I drew the short straw. Come and eat.”

Steve sighed but Eddie patted his hip. “All for the best, my sweet. I said you deserve better than a forest floor and I didn’t mean a cave.” Now that his path was clear, Eddie knew exactly what he had to do. What he wanted to do. Any thoughts of Prince Stephen had been completely erased from his mind. It was all just Steve, Steve, Steve.

Part 11 coming soon

[sky-fire-forever]

DADWC time :D How does ❛  i know things aren't easy right now, but i want to remain a fixture in your life. after all, you're one in mine.  ❜ for Rook/Lucanis sound?? Obsessed about this pairing rn!

Thank you for the prompt! I tried something new with this, with it being from the point of view of someone outside of the pairing I’m writing it for. You can be the judge of how it turned out.

For @dadrunkwriting - Dragon Age: The Veilguard Spoilers

My Rook in this is Voltah de Riva, who uses they/them pronouns.

Caterina does not believe herself to be an unkind woman. Strict, perhaps, but it’s out of necessity. Everything she’s done has been for the good of her family, for the betterment of those who have survived. She’s lost too much to go soft now and lose it all. 

Part of wanting the best for her family is wanting the best partners for those who remain. Lucanis is the First Talon now and if he is to wed, he deserves the best, someone who will support him and who can fend for themselves if things turn sour. He deserves someone who will protect their standing and can provide heirs to house Dellamorte. 

What he doesn’t need is a Crow from another house grasping at power and encouraging dangerous ideas. 

“I fail to see the problem,” Lucanis says, his voice tight with irritation he can hardly contain. “Rook has done more than prove themself. They not only saved the world, but they helped put an end to Ilario’s misdeeds, they helped save you and they stopped a ravaging dragon from destroying Treviso. What more could you ask from them?” 

Caterina leans against her cane, a frown upon her lips. “Surely you can not be so blind, Lucanis.” It hurts her to break her grandson’s heart this way, but it’s far better than the alternative. “The de Rivas want the title of First Talon. You are standing in the way of that. All it would take would be your death and then–”

“Rook would never.” Lucanis sounds offended by the very idea. “They could not care less about my title. Their interest in me long predated my appointment as First Talon and I have no doubt that they would continue to love me if I were to lose that title entirely.” 

“You must be practical,” Caterina insists. “This is Viago’s protege. Do you not think he has trained them well? To manipulate and deceive?” 

“No more than any other Crow.” 

“But they are a Crow,” Caterina reminds him. “A Crow of a lesser standing who stands to win much by building a relationship with you. That is not even to speak of the way they encourage that thing inside of you.”

“Don’t bring Spite into this,” Lucanis warns.

“It is a demon, Lucanis. One that we should be focused on removing as soon as possible.” 

“As I have told you before, there is no separating us now.”

“Do you know that? Or are you simply unwilling to try?” She presses. “Because Rook told you not to bother trying?”

The idea of a demon remaining permanently within her grandson is terrifying in its possibility. It’s even more frightening that Lucanis doesn’t seem the least bit concerned with removing the foul creature inside of him. All because a pretty face told him to accept the demon as part of him. 

Caterina knows better. She knows her grandson is no demon. 

“Rook did not–”

“Would you give up your entire life for them? Throw away all we have worked for? For an upstart and a demon?” 

“That’s enough!” Lucanis snaps and Caterina is caught off guard enough to fall silent. “Enough. Please.” His voice turns from harsh to soft in a moment, guilt bleeding into his tone. 

She grips her cane tightly. “These are the questions you must ask yourself, Lucanis,” she says. “You can not run from them forever.” 

She leaves him to ponder her words, but doesn’t stray far, listening in to see how he reacts to what she has to say. She hopes he’ll listen, prays that he’ll see sense and abandon this childish romance of his. She wants nothing more than his happiness, save for his survival. 

She hears him sigh and she hesitates only a moment before following him out of the room. She sticks to the shadows, knowing from years of training how to follow even the most perceptive men without being spotted. She uses her old tricks now, trailing her grandson as he leaves the estate and climbs to the rooftops. 

She spots who he’s meeting right away, Rook’s face lit by moonlight as they pace back and forth on the ledge. 

They look up as Lucanis approaches, their face breaking into a grin. “So, how’d it go?” When Lucanis doesn’t respond, they whistle. “That bad, huh?” 

“I don’t understand it,” Lucanis says. “I thought she would see reason, but it’s like she’s incapable of believing our love is for love’s sake. Everything appears as a bid for power to her.” 

“Guess I am the power-hungry type,” Rook jokes. “I mean, it’s always been my dream to take over the world!” 

“Rook, please. Be serious.” 

Rook’s smile falls and they sit on the edge of the roof, their legs dangling off the side. “What do you want me to say, Lucanis?” They ask. “Your grandmother isn’t going to change her mind about me no matter what I do. She isn’t that kind of woman.” 

Lucanis sits beside them. “I know.”

“Then what do you want to do?” 

He sighs, considering. “I know things aren’t easy right now, but I want to remain a fixture in your life,” he says. “After all, you’re one in mine.”

Rook studies his face in the moonlight. “Good,” they say eventually. “I’m not letting you go that easily, Dellamorte.” 

“I would hope not.” 

The way Lucanis looks at his lover in what is believed to be a private moment gives Caterina a moment of hesitation. There’s love there, genuine and passionate. It’s more affection than she’s ever seen on her grandson’s face before. 

She hopes that love doesn’t get him killed.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Okay. breathe. 

Inhale.

Exhale.

FUCKING HOLY FUCKING SHIT I AM NOT JOKING WHEN I SAY THAT I LOVED IT. Like. I ADORED it. Period. And now, Jae, let me tell you what I loved—I’m probably gonna quote your lines and if this turns into an essay, I’m really sorry 🙏😂

Okay. First off. The tone. Immaculate!!!! I love all the time you took to set the stage for MC standing in the rain, pouring, and how it made her feel and how fucking cold it was.

And it was at this point that I felt my heart racing, picking up speed because then it turned a very very soft thriller vibe—the car? Who is it, and why did they turn around? Like that writing was just perfect. Her fears, and then, as soon as she saw who it was 🥰

These three sentences—like, I know they are simple, right? But they are SO IMPACTFUL ✨

Were you happy? No. Relieved? Not even close. Scared? Absolutely.

And then the whole situation in the car! HELLO? “Yes mr. Park” FUCK. That was just so hot, even though she said it kinda timid, and THEN, and THEN the banter—like out of nowhere MC just shows her teeth and I was like YEAH TELL HIM GIRL 🤭

Okay, I have to highlight this section, because when MC screamed at him to shut up waving her hands in the air—that was so fucking hilarious to me I straight up laughed. I was choking on my laughter 🤣

Your jaw clenched, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “Shut up,” you hissed, your voice low but dripping with frustration. Jimin’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in mock disbelief. “Did you just—” “Yes, yes, yes! I just told you to shut uuuupppp!” you yelled, throwing your hands in the air.

And then when he could see her bra. I mean, he was behaving like a gentleman and giving her his jacket. CUTE 🥰 Even though throughout he was behaving a bit like a dick—and when it turned out that he has feelings for her towards the end. EPIC and I were sold right then and there.

Honestly—their whole banter was just amazing! Love their characters!!! 

And when he was taking her home to his place 😂 I was like, is he kidnapping her??? 😂

And more hilarious banter (it was so fucking good!!!!)

And the creme de la creme for me was this epic moment:

His dark eyes glinted with amusement as he opened his mouth to respond— And then you sneezed. Hard. Right into his face.

I was laughing so hard I was wheezing 🤣 And every freaking time she sneezed on him, omfg. I know sneezing isn’t really sexy or anything, and I might be totally weird for finding it somewhat sexual, lol.

Anyway. I just love Jimin—like he sounds kinda cold and rough, but he’s just hiding his love for her. Probably doesn’t want to do too much because they are boss/employee? And you put him in sweatpants??? 😭 Are you trying to kill us? He looks so good and it’s so easy to imagine with your perfect writing!!!

And when he said they were going to bed—my mind was going feral, like please sleep in the same bed, tuck her in, ANYTHING. And I did not expect her to faint, and for him to worry so much, awwww 🥹

And then when he said this:

His gaze softened, and he smiled—a small, almost shy smile, but one that made your chest ache. "Sleep tight, love. We have something important to talk about tomorrow." And with that, he closed the door softly behind him.

LOVE? SLEEP TIGHT LOVE!

What you did to my heart right there. That is peak FLUFF. Mastery. I loved it and I was swooning. My heart was soaring and then he slept on the couch like a truly gentleman 😭

I mean—it was just so freaking fluffy and funny with banter. What’s not to love? And truly, I fucking loved it. It’s a new favorite of mine. You made me laugh, you made me smile and giggle and you warmed my heart with your words and these characters, so thank you so much 🥰

A true masterpiece, and a story that proves you don’t need to have smut to have an amazing story that can move you ✨

I’m sorry for my very long review. I like rambling and talking (if you couldn’t tell that already lol).

⛈️🤒❤️‍🩹😚 + Jimin pretty please

TITLE: Almost Romantic

PAIRING: jimin x reader

GENRE: rom-com, slice of life(?), Slow burn, Drama

WORD COUNT: 6k

TRIGGER WARNING: none (this is the first time i'm writing something with no trigger warning! hehe)

SUMMARY: After an awkward car ride in the rain, you end up at Park Jimin's fancy place, sneezing and fighting off both a cold and your long-time crush on him.

a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @kookiewithluv. The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support.

a/n: Hey Anon! First off, let me apologize for taking forever to get back to you. I mean, wow, it took me so long you'd think I was trying to cure world hunger or something. Honestly, I have no idea what I ended up doing, and after all this time, I can only hope it's halfway decent. If you like it, please tell me so I can stop questioning all my life choices. And thank you for sending a Jimin request because OMG, I am dangerously obsessed with this man. Seriously. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. Luv ya!

The rain hammered down in relentless sheets, drumming against the tin roof of the bus stop above you. The cold air howled through the deserted street, wrapping itself around you like an unwelcome guest. The flickering streetlight cast a pale, ghostly glow, its harsh light accentuating the emptiness around you. You hugged yourself tightly, your arms gripping your sides as if you could hold yourself together.

You shivered, your breath coming out in quick, visible puffs. The dampness seeped through your clothes, clinging to your skin and chilling you to the bone. Drops of water slid down your face, some from the rain, others threatening to spill from your eyes. You blinked them away furiously, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking down. Mina had warned you about staying late at the office, but as always, you thought you knew better. Now you stood here, stranded and freezing, your phone a useless piece of metal in your bag.

A gust of wind tore through the street, whipping your hair into your face and dragging the rain sideways. You turned your head away, teeth chattering. The cold felt like it was pressing in, squeezing the air from your lungs. You couldn’t even hear your own shaky breathing over the roar of the storm.

The faint glow of headlights pierced through the rain, growing brighter as the car approached. Your heart surged with a flicker of hope, and you stumbled forward, arm jerking up to wave frantically. “Please,” you whispered, though your voice was swallowed by the storm. “Please stop.”

The car’s tires splashed through a puddle, sending icy water spraying onto your shoes. Its headlights illuminated you for a split second before sweeping past, leaving you in the dark once more. You stood frozen, your arm still raised as you stared after the fading taillights.

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, trying to choke back the lump rising in your throat. Your hand dropped slowly to your side, trembling as you clenched it into a fist. The ache in your chest grew heavier, a suffocating weight that pressed against your ribs. A tear slipped free, quickly hidden by the rain streaking down your face. You swiped at your cheeks angrily.

The wind howled again, and you crumpled onto the cold bench behind you, wrapping your arms around you, tightly. Your nails dug into your damp sleeves as your shoulders began to shake. You couldn’t cry—what good would it do? No one was coming. No one ever did. The darkness pressed in closer, whispering that you were alone, as you rocked yourself gently.

Your heart jolted as you caught sight of the same car stopped just a few feet away. Its brake lights glowed faintly in the rain before it suddenly began reversing. The tires splashed through puddles, the sound sharp against the muffled roar of the storm. Before you could process what was happening, the car screeched to a halt right in front of you.

Were you happy? No.

Relieved? Not even close.

Scared? Absolutely.

Your legs locked in place as you stared at the car, your mind racing. Why would someone stop now after ignoring you the first time? The question sent a shiver down your spine. The pounding rain felt distant compared to the thunderous beating of your heart. Every nerve screamed at you to run, but your feet refused to move. You tried to steady your breathing, silently chanting, Stay calm, stay calm, but your chest tightened like a coiled spring, ready to snap.

The car door opposite you creaked open, the noise slicing through the storm like a warning bell. Your body tensed, muscles coiling as if preparing to bolt. But just as quickly, the door slammed shut again. What? Your brows furrowed, and for a fleeting moment, confusion overpowered fear. Is this person okay? Or are they just messing with me?

The passenger window began to lower, gliding down with a soft whoosh. Your breath hitched as a familiar face emerged, half-shrouded in the shadows of the car's interior. Park Jimin. Your boss. Your obnoxiously attractive, arrogant, self-absorbed boss. Relief washed over you like a bucket of icy water, though it was short-lived.

“Get in,” he commanded, his voice low and clipped as he motioned impatiently with his hand. You hesitated, frozen under his sharp gaze, but another gust of wind pushed you forward, your feet dragging against the puddled pavement. The rain soaked you even more as you opened the car door and slid in, trembling from the cold. The interior smelled faintly of leather and expensive cologne, but any sense of comfort was destroyed by his sharp voice cutting through the space.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? What the hell are you doing here at this time of night? And why were you walking so damn slow?”

Your head snapped toward him, your eyes narrowing despite the exhaustion clawing at you. Of course, his first instinct wasn’t to ask if you were okay but to criticize. You forced a tight-lipped smile, your fingers curling into the damp fabric of your skirt.

“Yes, Mr. Park. I’m perfectly fine,” you bit out, the words dripping with sarcasm you tried to mask behind a strained politeness. Your fake smile wavered as you glanced at him, silently debating whether strangling him would be worth losing your ride home.

Jimin scoffed, shaking his head slightly, as though reading your thoughts. His eyes trailed over your face, lingering for a moment before they dropped lower. You noticed the shift in his expression too late. His gaze flicked to your collarbone, then downward. His eyes widened briefly before he snapped his head forward, clearing his throat with a harsh sound.

Confused, you frowned and followed his gaze. Your stomach sank as your eyes landed on the problem. Your white blouse, drenched from the rain, clung to your body like a second skin, and the bright red lace of your bra was clearly visible underneath.

A gasp escaped your lips as your arms flew up instinctively to cover your chest. “Oh my god,” you muttered, turning your body away from him, your face heating despite the cold. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, clutching your arms tightly around yourself.

Jimin rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze entirely. He shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose as he shrugged off his blazer. Without a word, he leaned over and held it out to you. You snatched it from his hand, your lips twisting into a scowl.

“You could’ve stopped the car near me,” you muttered under your breath, slipping the warm fabric over your shoulders. The faint scent of his cologne clung to it. So... manly.

His head snapped toward you, brows furrowed. “So, it’s my fault now?”

“Duh!” you shot back, pulling the blazer tighter around yourself as if it could shield you from his attitude.

“And what about the fact that you were walking so maddeningly slow? Like you were planning to camp out there all night?”

Your jaw clenched, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “Shut up,” you hissed, your voice low but dripping with frustration.

Jimin’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in mock disbelief. “Did you just—”

“Yes, yes, yes! I just told you to shut uuuupppp!” you yelled, throwing your hands in the air. Your voice echoed sharply inside the car, silencing him completely. The weight of your outburst hit you like a tidal wave, embarrassment creeping up your neck. You turned your face away, heat flooding your cheeks. Great. Now I look like a lunatic.

He stared at you, stunned, his lips slightly parted as though he couldn’t quite process what had just happened. His wide eyes and slack jaw only made you angrier. You could practically feel his judgment radiating off him, and it made you want to crawl under a rock—or strangle him slowly and thoroughly.

“Stop staring and start the damn car,” you snapped, your voice cracking slightly.

His gaze lingered for a moment longer before he blinked, shaking his head. His cheeks flushed a soft pink, and he hurriedly looked away, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Fine,” he muttered, starting the engine with a low rumble.

The car began to move, the rain now a blurred sheet outside the windows. Silence settled between you, heavy and awkward, broken only by the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers. You sank back into the seat, pressing your hand to your forehead as a dull ache throbbed at your temples. A cold shiver raced down your spine, and you took a shaky breath, hoping it would settle your nerves.

“How long, Mr. Park?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the fight in you momentarily drained.

“Not far,” he replied, glancing at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “My house is just a few blocks away. We’ll be there soon.”

Your heart stopped. You sat up straighter, your hands clutching the blazer tightly. “What the hell do you mean, your house?”

He spared you another glance, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. “I’m taking you home,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

“Whose home?” you nearly screeched, pulling the blazer tighter around you as though it could somehow protect you from this insanity.

“Mine,” he said simply, his eyes darting back to the road.

"Home. Your home," you repeated, your tone sharp as you gestured toward him. "I wanted to go to my home."

Jimin’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw ticking in irritation. “I didn’t know the address,” he said flatly, avoiding your gaze.

“You could’ve just asked!”

“I wanted to, but you yelled at me to shut up.”

“And so your brilliant solution was to bring me here?” you retorted, throwing your hands up in disbelief.

His eyes snapped to yours, narrowing as he pulled the car to a jerky stop. “Excuse me? I live here. What the hell do you mean by here?” he asked, his voice low and offended, his brows drawing together.

You glared at him, your lips curling into a bitter scowl. “Then why have you stopped in the middle of nowhere?”

Jimin’s lips parted, a humourless laugh escaping him as he ran a hand through his damp hair. “I think you’ve been out in the rain too long. Maybe some water leaked into your brain because it’s clearly not working. We are not in the middle of nowhere, you deranged woman.”

Before you could retort, he pushed his door open with a sharp motion and stepped out, slamming it shut behind him. You stared after him in disbelief, his broad back retreating into the rain. Grumbling under your breath, you wrestled with your seatbelt, finally kicking the door open and following him.

The rain hit you like icy needles, soaking through your clothes as you stumbled out of the car. The moment you stepped onto the pavement, you froze, your jaw slack. In front of you stood a towering, modern building, its glass facade gleaming despite the downpour. “Wow,” you muttered under your breath, momentarily forgetting your anger. But then you caught sight of Jimin’s retreating figure, and you cursed under your breath, hiking up your heels to chase after him.

“Of course, you’d leave me behind,” you muttered as your heels clicked against the wet pavement.

Jimin turned his head slightly, flashing you a grin that made you want to slap it off his face. “Oh, you’re here! I thought you’d decided to spend the night in the car,” he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You narrowed your eyes at him, shivering as you wrapped his blazer tighter around yourself. “Do you have a knife at home?” you asked, your tone casual as you both inside the elevator.

He paused mid-step, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “Yeah… why?”

“Just so I know where to find one,” you replied, tilting your head innocently. “For when you start talking too much rubbish.”

Jimin turned to face you fully, his brows lifting as his mouth parted in shock. For a brief moment, he looked genuinely alarmed. Then, as you burst into laughter at his expression, he sighed in relief, shaking his head.

“You think you’re funny?” he asked, his voice low as he stepped closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly.

You smirked, lifting your chin. “I think I’m adorable.”

His lips twitched into a smirk of his own as he leaned in, his face now dangerously close to yours. You wanted to step back, but the cold glass of the elevator doors pressed against your back, trapping you. His dark eyes glinted with amusement as he opened his mouth to respond—

And then you sneezed.

Hard.

Right into his face.

The moment froze, your eyes widening in horror as he flinched, wiping at his face with his sleeve. “What the actual hell?!” he yelled, his voice a mixture of disbelief and rage. He stepped back, his face scrunching up in disgust as he muttered a string of curses, switching languages with every expletive. English, Japanese, Chinese, and then a barrage of rapid Korean filled the small elevator.

You stared down at your feet, heat crawling up your neck. “Sorry…” you mumbled, barely audible, too mortified to meet his eyes.

He glared at you, his nostrils flaring. “Sorry? Sorry?!” He stepped forward, looking like he had a whole speech prepared—

But the elevator dinged, its doors sliding open.

For the first time that night, you silently thanked every god you could think of as Jimin stomped out, muttering under his breath. You hurried after him, sneezing again as the cold air hit you.

“Sit,” he barked, pointing to the plush couch in his spacious living room. His voice was sharp, but his eyes softened for a moment as they flicked to your shivering form.

You sat without a word, clutching his blazer tightly around you. Jimin disappeared into hallway, still muttering under his breath. As you sneezed again, you couldn’t help but laugh softly at the ridiculousness of it all, even if he was plotting your demise in the next room.

He came back, dressed in a plain sweatshirt and gray sweatpants, his hair sticking up in messy tufts, like he’d been running his hands through it. Barefoot and casual, he should’ve looked harmless, but instead, he looked annoyingly good. His sharp gaze locked on you as he walked closer, his lips pressed into a tight line, like he had something serious to say. Your throat dried up when he stopped right in front of you, the scent of his and something uniquely him filling the air between you. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, and just as his lips parted to speak—

You sneezed.

Right on his face.

“Women, seriously?” he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk as he wiped the back of his hand against his face.

You scowled, tugging his oversized blazer tighter around yourself. “What? I can’t help it!”

“You can’t help anything. The only thing you can help at is being mean and senseless.”

“Excuse me?” you snapped, leaning toward him, ready to unleash your fury—but another sneeze erupted before you could get the words out.

“Eww!” he exclaimed, jerking back like you’d just sprayed him with acid.

He pointed toward the hallway, his expression torn between disgust and resignation. “You, come with me. Before you drown my house with your sneezes.”

You rolled your eyes, trudging after him as he led you through the sleek, modern interior of his house.

“I didn’t ask you to bring me here,” you grumbled, your damp hair sticking to your neck. “You could’ve just dropped me off at my place.”

He turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing in exasperation. “Did you see how hard it was raining? You wanted me to take you home and then drive back through that storm? I could’ve gotten stuck—or worse. You should be grateful!”

You glared at his back, muttering under your breath, “Grateful, my ass.”

Jimin stopped in front of a door and pushed it open, revealing a spacious, minimalist bedroom. He disappeared into the walk-in closet without a word, emerging moments later with a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants.

“Here,” he said, shoving the clothes into your arms. “Change into this.” His voice softened, just for a second, before he added, “Bathroom’s on the right. Don’t take forever.”

You raised a brow as he turned and left without waiting for a response. Rude.

But as you glanced around his room—simple yet elegant with muted tones and clean lines—you couldn’t deny the faint flutter in your chest. It was surreal, standing here, surrounded by the essence of him. Once upon a time, when you’d first started working at the company, you’d harboured the most ridiculous crush on him. Obsessive, even. But you’d gotten over it. Or at least you thought you had.

Quickly peeling off your wet clothes, you slipped into the hoodie and sweatpants. They were far too big, the sleeves swallowing your hands, but they were warm and soft. And they smelled… like him. Clean, woodsy, with the faintest hint of something sharp and intoxicating. You hated how comforting it felt.

Or maybe you didn’t.

When you returned to the living room, he was sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest. His eyes flicked to you, scanning you briefly before he gestured toward the coffee table. “Soup,” he said simply.

Your gaze shifted to the large bowl sitting on the table, steam rising from the golden liquid. Your heart softened a fraction as you sat beside him, the warmth of the soup drawing you in. Without a second thought, you grabbed the bowl and scooped up a spoonful.

The second it touched your tongue, the heat seared your mouth, and you yelped, dropping the spoon back into the bowl. Jimin’s eyes widened, as he shot forward. “What the hell?!” he exclaimed, snatching the bowl out of your hands and placing it back on the table.

Before you could respond, he was in front of you, crouching slightly, his face a mixture of panic and concern. leaning closer. He started fanning your mouth with his hand, his brows furrowed as he muttered under his breath. Then, without warning, he leaned in further and blew.

The cool air hit your lips, and your breath hitched. His face was inches from yours now, his dark eyes focused intently on your mouth. You froze, acutely aware of the way his hand hovered just beneath your chin, steadying you. The moment stretched, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. His gaze flicked to yours, and for a heartbeat, neither of you moved. His lips parted slightly, his breath warm against your cheek.

“Are you blind? C-Can’t you see it’s hot?” he scolded, his voice breaking slightly as he cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly on the couch. His eyes darted away from yours, and for a fleeting moment, you caught the faintest hint of colour creeping up his neck.

You nodded, the sting of embarrassment silencing any snarky retort. Any other day, you’d have torn into him for bossing you around, but now? You couldn’t even muster a glare. Instead, you pressed your palms to your cheeks, only to realize they were burning.

What the hell was wrong with you?

Your mind raced as you sat frozen in place. You’re over him. You’re over him, you chanted silently, willing the blush to disappear. But deep down, you knew the truth—your heart was still as stupid as ever.

And then, just as you thought you could gather yourself, you sneezed again.

His head whipped toward you, eyes narrowing slightly. You braced for the scolding that was surely coming, shoulders tensing as you sucked in a breath.

But instead, he shifted closer.

Your breath hitched.

His gaze softened, his brows knitting together with concern as he leaned in. “Are you really sick?” he asked, his voice quieter this time, almost gentle.

Before you could answer, his hand moved toward your face. You froze as his fingertips brushed your forehead, testing your temperature. His touch was warm—too warm—and your heart thudded violently in your chest.

He frowned, his hand lingering for a moment longer before sliding down to the side of your neck, his thumb grazing your jaw.

That was it. You were doomed.

Your pulse quickened beneath his touch, and you swore he could feel it. His brows furrowed deeper, his expression shifting from mild concern to genuine worry. “You’re turning red,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb moved slightly, tracing an invisible line along your skin. “Do… Do I need to call a doctor?”

The tenderness in his tone almost shattered you. Why did he have to be like this? Why now?

You shook your head quickly, snapping out of your daze and leaning back, desperate to put some distance between you. “No,” you managed to croak, your voice embarrassingly hoarse.

He blinked, his hand falling back to his side as he sat upright. “Oh,” he said, his tone clipped. His shoulders stiffened as if he suddenly realized how close he’d been.

You caught his slight grimace as he scooted away, the small gap between you growing wider.

Your chest tightened, and before you knew it, you were pouting.

His gaze flicked to you, one brow arching in confusion. “What?” he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

You shook your head quickly, too flustered to explain.

“Seriously, what’s wrong now?” he pressed, his brows drawing together again.

But you just shook your head once more, biting your lip to keep from saying something stupid—like how much you’d missed this, how much you wished he’d never pulled away.

And yet, even as he leaned back into his corner of the couch, his gaze lingered on you for a second longer than necessary, his expression unreadable. And that tiny, almost imperceptible pause was enough to make your heart ache with hope.

“You hungry?” he asked, his voice low and casual as he glanced over at you.

“No,” you said quickly, your tone sharper than intended.

His lips quirked up, clearly not believing you. “You sure? I can cook,” he offered, his brows lifting in that way that made his face unbearably soft, like he was trying to coax the truth out of you.

You shook your head firmly. “I’m sure,” you mumbled, shifting your gaze back to the soup in your hands. You’d already eaten, and you knew he had too.

A comfortable silence fell between you. He leaned back on the couch, his head resting against the cushions, eyes fluttering closed. His chest rose and fell evenly, and for the first time since you’d met him, he looked utterly at peace.

And absolutely stunning.

You tried not to stare, but your eyes betrayed you, taking in every detail. The way his jawline looked sharper under the dim light, the soft curve of his lashes resting against his cheeks, and his lips—God, his lips—full and slightly parted, as if he was moments away from whispering something that would undo you.

Your gaze trailed down to his clothes, his sweatshirt slightly rumpled but hugging his shoulders perfectly. His loose, comfy sweatpants sat just right on his hips, and even in such an unassuming outfit, he looked... ethereal.

It wasn’t fair. How could someone look like that just sitting there?

You pulled your eyes away, forcing yourself to look out the glass wall instead. The rain pounded relentlessly against it, streaks of water catching the faint glow of the city lights outside. The storm showed no signs of stopping, and you couldn’t help but regret staying late at the office.

I could’ve finished it all tomorrow, you thought bitterly, tightening your grip on the warm bowl in your hands. Your eyes drifted back to him, unable to help yourself. The question burned at the back of your mind: why had he stayed late? You knew he often worked late, but on busy nights like this, he typically stayed at the office rather than going home. Tonight, though, he’d changed that.

You frowned slightly. What was different this time?

You didn’t know—and couldn’t have known—that the difference was you.

He had seen the storm warning on the news and had sent everyone home early, but you had stayed behind, stubbornly working. He had been about to leave, but seeing you there, so focused, so unaware of the weather worsening, had stopped him in his tracks. Jimin was nothing if not professional, but he had always harboured an unspoken interest in you—a quiet, persistent fondness he never let show.

And now, here you both were.

The silence stretched on, the sound of the rain filling the space between you. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but when you finally opened your mouth to speak, the words were out before you could stop them. And you almost regretted it. Almost.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" The question slipped out before you could stop yourself, your eyes widening in surprise at your own words.

Jimin’s eyes flicked open, locking with yours instantly. There was a quiet amusement in his gaze, and his lips tugged up into that soft, teasing smile that made your heart do something you tried to ignore. He didn’t speak right away, just studied you as if he could read everything you weren’t saying.

“No,” he replied, his voice quiet and surprisingly soft. “Why do you ask?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling silly, and looked everywhere but at him—out the window, at your hands, the bowl of soup on the table. Anywhere but him.

He leaned back into the couch, clearly amused, a playful edge to his tone. “Why are you behaving like this?” His smile was still there, small but knowing.

“Like what?” you blurted out, but even as the words left your mouth, you knew it was a bit of a dumb question.

“I don’t know. You tell me.” He raised an eyebrow, watching you like you were a puzzle he was determined to figure out.

You stared at him, blinking a few times like he’d just sprouted another head, making his laughter bubble up, soft but genuine.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” he teased.

“Because you’re talking weird,” you said, voice a bit sharper than you intended, but your words faltered under his gaze.

He chuckled again, the sound warm and disarming, sending a flutter through your chest. “You’re behaving weird,” he countered.

You let out a frustrated huff and turned away from him, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, hoping the action would somehow shield you from whatever was happening between the two of you.

He chuckled again, and it was like a spark igniting inside you, frustrating and electrifying all at once. You glared at him, but even that seemed pointless when he was looking at you like that—like he could read the thoughts swirling in your head.

The silence that fell was oddly peaceful, but it didn’t sit well with you. You always needed something more. Chaos, noise, anything but stillness. Fidgeting in your seat, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You broke the silence, your voice sounding louder than you intended.

“Mr. Park—”

He cut you off with a soft smile, sitting up slightly. “You can call me Jimin,” he said, the words coming out like an invitation, a subtle challenge in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, hesitant. You glanced away quickly, feeling the heat creep up your neck as you crossed your arms defensively. “Are you sure?”

His gaze didn’t waver, locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel suddenly exposed, vulnerable in a way you couldn’t explain. “Why do you look so unsure?” he asked, his voice gentle but with a teasing edge.

You stiffened, trying to find something—anything—to say. “You were perfectly okay threatening me and cursing at me. What happened now?”

His face twisted into a playful look of disbelief. “When did I—”

You were about to cut him off, but the teasing glint in his eyes silenced you.

“Huh?” His head tilted, and his smile grew, mischievous and daring.

“Okay! But I don’t mean any of it,” you blurted out, the words tumbling over each other as you sat up straighter, hoping it would make you look less flustered.

“Of course you don’t,” he said, his laugh escaping just beneath his words. The playful glint in his eyes only deepened as he relaxed back into the couch, arms spread wide like he was claiming the space between you. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and you couldn’t help but feel that same pull in your chest, though you tried to ignore it.

You crossed your arms tighter over your chest, trying to regain some control over yourself. “You really think you’re so charming, don’t you?”

He leaned in slightly, his smile widening, and your stomach fluttered despite your best attempts to stay unaffected.

“I don’t just think... I know.” His voice was full of that confidence that made your heart race, that impossible assurance that had you questioning everything.

You rolled your eyes, but even you knew it was more for show than anything. Your lips wanted to curl up, but you kept them pressed tight, the heat in your cheeks betraying the hard facade you tried to maintain.

“Yeah, right. Your just full of yourself,” you shot back, trying to sound unaffected, but the playful tone that slipped into your voice gave you away.

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his grin widening. “But I’ve got goods to back it up. Just look at how you're blushing.”

Your cheeks burned at his words, and you immediately shifted in your seat, trying to hide the heat spreading across your face. Your heart was racing now, and you could barely keep your breath steady.

“Am not!” you protested, but it came out weak, a poor defence against the blush that was clearly visible.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, before standing up. “Sure, let’s go.”

Confused, you followed him, your feet moving almost mechanically. You barely registered his words at first, still caught in the strange feeling his teasing had left in your chest. “It’s getting late. We should go to bed.”

Something about the way he said "we" made your stomach twist, or was it flutter? You weren’t sure. All you could hear now was the odd ringing in your ears, a soft buzz that drowned out everything else.

“We?” The word slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, confusion knitting your brows together as you watched him.

He gave you a small, almost reassuring smile as he stepped into his bedroom, holding the door open for you. His eyes never left you as he waited, his gaze warm, not at all like you had imagined it would be.

You stepped in hesitantly, your heart pounding with every step you took closer to him. Your mind was swirling, but you couldn’t place what was happening. You trusted him, you did, but something about this moment felt different—felt new.

“What happened?” he asked softly, his hands reaching out to gently pull you toward him, his touch grounding you in a way that made everything else fade into the background.

You blinked, confused. “Huh?”

His eyes searched your face with concern, his brows furrowing as his fingers grazed your cheek. “You’re so... pale.”

“Am I?” you whispered, suddenly aware of how unsteady you felt.

He didn’t seem satisfied with the answer. His touch moved from your face to your forehead, gently pressing as though checking for something. His fingers trailed down to your neck, the soft touch sending shivers down your spine.

You felt lightheaded, almost as if his hand was the only thing keeping you grounded. Your knees wobbled, your breath catching in your throat as your vision blurred.

“What happened to you?” His voice was barely a whisper now, a trace of worry creeping in that made your heart thud painfully in your chest.

The softness in his tone made your legs feel even weaker, like they could give out at any moment. Your body trembled slightly under his touch, your mind too foggy to make sense of anything.

Before you could even respond, he scooped you up effortlessly, his strength surprising you. He laid you down gently on the bed, the sudden movement making everything feel even more surreal.

You felt lighter than you ever had, almost weightless, like you could just float away. But your head—your head felt impossibly heavy, as if you couldn’t hold it up anymore. The dizziness washed over you in waves, your senses fading. You barely registered the way his face hovered above you, worry etched deep in his expression as he watched you. His hand was still on your forehead, his touch warm against your cool skin.

You barely registered the way his face hovered above you, worry etched deep in his expression as he watched you. His hand was still on your forehead, his touch warm against your cool skin.

“God, what... hap-happened?” he murmured again, but you couldn’t find the strength to answer. Your vision blurred even further, the world around you spinning uncontrollably. You felt yourself slip away, your body growing heavier.

And then, without warning, everything went black.

You blinked your eyes open, still disoriented, only to find Jimin staring down at you. His face was inches away, concern etched across his features. His hand was gently placed on your arm, and his eyes were wide, scanning your face for any sign of distress. The dim light in the room made the worried expression on his face all the more intense.

"You okay?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he helped you sit up, his hand guiding you gently. He reached for the glass of water from the bedside table, offering it to you with a quiet determination. Without thinking, you drank it in one go, the cool liquid helping to clear the fog in your mind. You nodded weakly, still feeling lightheaded, but trying to reassure him.

"You fainted," he said, his voice unsteady as he watched you closely, his brows furrowed in disbelief. You nodded again, still not fully processing what had just happened.

He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise, lips parted in a mixture of concern and confusion. His expression was so pure, so real, it made something twist in your chest. You couldn’t help but chuckle, though it was soft, a little breathless.

"I’m fine, Jimin," you reassured him, the words coming out far less convincing than you hoped.

"No, you're not," he said firmly, his voice almost pleading, his tone so filled with worry it made your heart clench. "You fainted. Let’s go to doctor."

"I’m fine," you repeated, though the words felt weak. His eyes never left yours, searching for any sign that you were telling the truth. His hand reached up, rubbing his face in frustration, his worry only growing.

"And I’m worried," he said, the words hanging heavy in the air between you. His gaze softened, and you could see it in his eyes—the deep concern, the care that he couldn’t hide.

You felt a strange warmth spread through your chest, something raw and unspoken. But you also didn’t want him to act like this, not with you. Not now, not after everything.

“Why?” Your voice came out softer than you intended, almost a whisper, and you couldn’t look him in the eyes. It was the question you’d been asking yourself for so long, and now it slipped out before you could stop it. Your heart raced, your chest tightening as you waited for him to answer.

For a moment, he was silent. His eyes flickered with something unreadable, his gaze softening, and you could feel the tension between you grow thicker, thicker still. Then, as if to break the tension, he slowly reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand lingered, resting on your skin, as if he wasn’t ready to pull away.

“Sleep,” he murmured, the word leaving his lips like a tender command. But the last thing you wanted to do was sleep. The night was still young, the rain pouring outside, the sound of it filling the room. The cold breeze from the open window brushed against your skin, but it was nothing compared to the warmth in your chest.

“I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room,” he said, as if it was the most natural thing to do. You stared at him, confused, unsure why he was saying that. You hadn’t asked him to, hadn’t even thought of it.

“Why?” you asked, your voice cracking just slightly.

“Because you’re sleeping on my bed,” he said, his voice firm but kind, as if it was obvious. He made you lie back down, covering you with the duvet, the soft fabric comforting against your skin. As he stepped back, you couldn’t stop the aching feeling in your chest, that unbearable pull that made your heart beat faster.

He moved toward the door, slow and deliberate, like he didn’t want to leave but had to. Every step he took felt like an eternity, and you wanted to call out to him, tell him to stop. But you couldn’t. You didn’t have the words.

When he reached the door, he paused and turned around to face you. His gaze softened, and he smiled—a small, almost shy smile, but one that made your chest ache. "Sleep tight, love. We have something important to talk about tomorrow." And with that, he closed the door softly behind him.

You lay there in the quiet room, your heart still racing, your mind spinning. You stared at the door, your thoughts scattered, your breath shaky. Did he just…? Did he just call you love?

The word echoed in your head, a faint warmth spreading through your veins. It was too much, and yet, you couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest. The night had shifted, everything had shifted, but you didn’t know what it meant. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a flicker of hope.

And as the rain continued to pour outside, the sound somehow soothing your frayed nerves, you let your eyes flutter shut, your heart still thumping, your thoughts tangled in him.

I don’t know if you liked it or not, but please, leave some feedback. Like, tell me how much you loved it or absolutely hated it. I’m all ears... honestly, I’m mostly just here for the drama either way.

[angelnumber27]

Last night I made a list of all the ways drinking has been negatively effecting me, my relationships, those around me, my body and mind, and my life as a whole recently.

There are 45 separate things listed on there so far

[rottengurlz]

I need to start a book club so someone can read the black dagger brotherhood series with me there’s like 22 books in it and the writing is awful but I’m obsessed with fucked up vampire brothers being named like rehvenge and zsadist

[myfirstandlast]

going through answered asks from when i was 18 wanting to hold myself so tightly

[storusangel]

STUDY SESSIONS

a/n: ohhhh my god, i finally finished this. it's been half finished for months but i did it!! hope you guys enjoy!

cw: fem!reader, dom!satosugu, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweet girl), slight petplay (like if you squint really hard), fingering, manhandling, double vag pen., biting, squirting, creampie, oral f!receiving, overstim, aftercare, MINORS DNI

word count: 4.5k

satoru and suguru are the stars of your university.

they have it all — the looks, the grades, the girls (and guys). and in your shared BIO 141 class, better known as your human anatomy and physiology class, they’re known for being top of the class, never having failed an exam. you, however, have been falling behind in that said class. 

but it truly isn’t your fault. you can’t help that the two men sit at a perfect angle for you to gawk and stare at them for the entirety of class. yeah, it’s not your fault at all! in fact, it’s your stupid professor’s fault for placing the two pieces of eye candy directly in your line of view!

it’s tuesday again and your professor is rambling on about the limbic system or something of the sort. you don’t really comprehend what he’s saying because it seems the two pieces of eye candy have gotten matching tattoos. a dark betta fish on suguru’s right bicep and a lighter one on satoru’s left. 

you can’t help but let your mind wander to how those arms would look holding you up as they’re pounding into you. dirty words being whispered into your ear as you try your best to keep up with them. “such a good slut for u-“

your name being called out by your professor yanks you out of your trance. you blink twice, ripping your eyes of the two boys but not before they could catch you staring at them. 

“i asked you a question.”

“s-sorry professor” you wince at how silly you sound stuttering after being caught daydreaming in class.

your professor just sighs and instead of repeating his question, he tells you to stay after class to meet with him. you can feel the eyes of your classmates boring into you, the immature snickers make you want to go back to your dorm and stay there forever.

or better yet, go to satoru and suguru’s shared apartment and let them fuck the embarrassment away.

you shake your head in an attempt to refocus your attention. before you can tune in to what your professor has to say, you see satoru and suguru steal a quick glance at you and whisper to each other. 

“gojo and geto, i’d like you two after class as well”  

once more, the class erupts into whispering to their nearest friend before the professor regains their attention once and for all. you also stop your mind from wandering too far into your daydreams about what could happen after class and return your attention back to the professor who was clearly irritated. 

in an effort to save yourself from embarrassment, you head down to see your professor as soon as class ends to end the conversation before the two boys can tune in. 

“i assume you understand why i wanted to see you?” his voice is sharp, an underlying tone of dissatisfaction.

“yes sir, i know my grade in your class need some work but i will do my best to bring it up” 

his reply is quick. “i know you will because gojo and geto will be tutoring you.”

you truly don’t know how to feel. getting the chance to be around your crushes is both amazing and horrible. thinking about how they definitely know you’ve been staring at them every class makes you feel nauseous. thinking about being perceived isn’t your favorite thing, but thinking about how they’ll be around you, teaching you the course that you’ve completely missed out on due to your very vivid daydreams. 

“wait, what?” god, satoru’s voice sounded much sexier when it was right behind you. 

“you heard me. both of you will be helping her understand her classwork until the end of the semester.” and your professor's voice sounded much scarier when it was in right front of you. “i’ll know if you two have truly put enough effort in when i see her grade on our next exam.”

you’re too ashamed to make eye contact with the two boys, a wave of embarrassment flooding your face knowing that your two crushes now know your biggest academic insecurity. the room is silent until suguru speaks up, “okay, we’ll need your number though” yeah, suguru’s voice was just as sexy as satoru’s. 

you hear your name being called. you finally make eye contact. ��sorry, what?” your voice is meek, smaller than you remember it to be. satoru laughs, “your number, sweetheart. so we can set a date for our sessions. you know, the tutoring ones?” satoru calling you sweetheart makes you want to implode, he has to know what he does to you. what they do to you. 

“oh, here” you leave as soon as you give them your number. suguru’s “we’ll text about planning later” giving you the greenlight to get the hell out of there before you somehow manage to embarrass yourself even further.

-

xxx-xxx-xxxx added you and xxx-xxx-xxxx into a chat

unknown: you free this weekend?

you: who is this???

unknown: aw man :( all that staring in class and you can’t even remember who we are, we’re hurt baby

- 

you stare at the message. okay. so you know who it is. and you also know that they know your grades are horrible because you’ve spent almost every class openly drooling over them. no big deal. it’s not like your sessions will be in a private area.

-

unknown: satoru and i talked, we think it’ll be best to tutor you at our place since there’ll be less distractions there.

-

okay then. you’ll just have to work on your nerves before this weekend. you have time. right now you’ll be using that time to try and get over the fact that satoru called you baby.

the next few days pass by a little too slow for your liking but soon you’re getting ready for your date with the two boys. wait, tutoring session with the two boys. you couldn’t help but dress up a little, adding a matching set underneath your skirt and blouse.

-

satoru: i’m outside, come out whenever you’re ready

you: coming out now! which car is yours?

satoru: you’ll know it when you see it ;)

-

you head out slightly confused but when you see a white corvette flashing its blinkers at you, you understand what satoru meant. before you reach his car, satoru gets out to open the door for you. the small giggle you let out doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 

a wave of confidence runs through your veins as you tell him he’s “quite the gentlemen” when he buckles your seatbelt for you before sitting in the driver's seat himself. his response is a quick wink and then you two are off to their apartment. you try not to stare too hard at him throughout the ride but you can’t help but let yourself indulge in a few glances that lasted longer than they should’ve.

soon enough you two have reached the apartment and satoru parks the car. this time you don’t hide your staring. his effortless moves have you squeezing your thighs together. why is this turning you on??? you have got to be ovulating. 

satoru calls out your name. “you ready?” you blink. “o-oh, yeah i’m ready.” he grins and unbuckles you before sliding out the car to open your door. their apartment is cleaner than you expected, and also way larger than you expected it to be. “you finally back satoru?” you turn around to see suguru in sweatpants and stark contrast to satoru’s shorts. “hi, thanks again for tutoring me” you say. they both let out a soft chuckle and suguru returns the greeting.

they show you to a room that you truly didn’t expect for them to have in their place. there’s a shelf stacked with different books and another bigger one beside it with their trophies. there are two desks but one of them is currently situated with three chairs. you’re deep in thought about how you would love to be bent over the desks as the two boys make you take them over and over and over again.

this time it’s suguru calling your name to draw you out of your daydream. “you can take a seat on the middle chair. do you have anything in specific that you need help understanding?” oh right, you came here to be tutored. “um, everything? well not like everything but maybe the latest subject? i haven’t had the time to actually go over the notes i took.” 

a lie, you didn’t take any notes. your notebook is filled with small doodles and occasionally a sentence from a slide the professor left on the screen for too long. you place your hands in your lap when the two boys take a seat on either side of you. “no need to be nervous, sweetheart. we’re here to help you.” satoru has got to know that him and his stupidly attractive voice aren’t helping you and you want to turn to suguru for help but he’s just as bad. “he’s right, pretty girl. you’ve got to relax, you won’t be able to remember anything when you’re shaking like that.”

to make it even worse, they each place a hand on your bare thighs. satoru rubs his soft fingers up and down while suguru squeezes your thigh gently before using a thumb to make circular motions in a single spot. you can feel your body heating up and it takes everything in you to not squeeze your thighs together because it would make your want need for them way too obvious and quite frankly, you’re still embarrassed they caught you staring.

satoru makes eye contact with suguru, a silent communication between the two of them. he gives your thigh a gentle pat before he starts to speak. “do you work better with rewards, baby?” you turn to look at him. you aren’t sure what he means exactly and you’re feeling a little overstimulated by all the touching, the pet names, and their attention in general. you’re by no means a virgin, though you aren’t too far from it, but for some reason they make you so nervous you can’t think straight. 

suguru says your name in a voice that sounds like it’s reserved for scolding puppies but right now it just turns you on even more than you are. “answer satoru, he’s not big on being ignored” apparently you don’t turn your head fast enough because satoru’s hand moves from your thigh to grasp your face gently, but not too gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “he’s right, baby. i don’t want to be rough with you just yet. i’m gonna ask again and i expect an answer. would you like us to give you rewards?” despite his words being slightly threatening, you bite your lip to hold back a whine. you squeak out a “yes please” and return to suppressing your whines because suguru still has moved his hand further up your skirt, his fingers grazing dangerously close to your soaked slit. 

“good girl. now let's get started” satoru removes his hand from your jaw but suguru only moves his hand back down to your lower thigh, giving you one more squeeze. the tutoring session goes something like this; suguru and satoru take turns explaining different topics covered during your last class. once they’re done, satoru quizzes you. everytime you answer correctly, suguru moves his hand up and satoru praises you. but every time you fail to answer a question correctly or fast enough, suguru slips his hand away and satoru reminds you that “only smart girls get rewards”. 

this method seems to work because you’re starting to answer correctly more often until you’re only answering correctly and suguru’s fingers are grazing your panties. “oh, she’s soaked, satoru. i think this sweet thing deserves a bigger reward. she’s been listening so well” a small whimper leaves your lips and you turn your head to satoru, your eyes begging for something more than some light touches accompanied by a few praises. 

to prove his point even further you really do start to beg. “please satoru, i need it so bad. ‘ve been so good, please” you can tell it works because he immediately coos at you. “d’awh, i think she deserves a reward too, suguru. we should give it to her” and with that satoru leans in, pressing his lips into yours. his soft, pillowy lips against yours make you almost forget suguru’s hands are on your panties.

almost. 

suguru pulls your panties to the side, raking his middle and ring finger through your folds, collecting your slick. he traces them downwards before bringing them back up to circle around your clit once, twice, three times and then he repeats the process. once he’s deemed his fingers wet enough, he slips one in pumping and curling wasting no time before adding in a second one. 

kissing down your neck, satoru rips your blouse open and pushes your bra down. lithe fingers trace around your nipple making you arch into satoru. you let out a breathy moan into satoru’s mouth, followed by more whines when suguru adds a third finger and starts to scissor them to stretch you out. you can feel satoru smirk against your lips when you start to struggle to kiss back. 

satoru removes his mouth from you, drinking in the sight of you. the sweet, shy girl in their class who couldn’t help but keep her eyes off of the two boys. the same girl who struggled to keep eye contact and who was barely vocal when they were present is now writhing in their chair. your back arching into satoru, a silent plea for him to keep touching you. and your hips grinding on suguru’s fingers, begging him to keep going. 

and most importantly, your voice has finally found itself to be heard. your pleas of “can’t, ‘s too much” and “wan’ more, please don’t stop, please” echo throughout the room. satoru takes two of his own fingers and pats them on your lips, a signal for you to open your mouth. you comply, wishing they would keep praising you. as if he can hear your thoughts, satoru mutters a “atta girl” when he slips his fingers into your mouth. 

he lets them hit the back of your throat a few times and when you gag, he pulls them back. not entirely, but just enough so that you’re still drooling on them but aren’t entirely gagging. he moves his fingers in a scissoring motion for some time and then he pulls them out. before you can even think about missing his fingers in your mouth, he moves them down to your clit, rubbing calculated circles. 

suguru moves his fingers faster, curling them upwards till they hit your sweet spot repeatedly. “i think our sweet girls about to cum, satoru” suguru breaks the silence between him and satoru. “i think so too” you can’t tell if it’s the way they’re talking about you as if you weren’t there but you cum the second the two speak, your body shaking as they help you ride it out. suguru shallowly pumping his fingers in while satoru slows his circles on your clit. suguru leans in to give you a kiss, his lips doing most of the work as your body recovers from your mindblowing orgasm. 

you yelp into suguru’s mouth when satoru pats your clit a little too hard. you want to say something but he taps your clit one more time before watching more slick dribble out of your cunt and onto the chair. suguru is the first to speak. his lips trail towards your ear leaving soft kisses in each place he covers. “you did so well for us, sweetheart. how’re you feeling?” as he speaks, satoru wipes the tears from your eyes and rubs comforting circles on your cheek.

your heart throbs at the attention. you understand what suguru is asking; are you still up for more? or are you done for the time being? you bite your lip before you speak.

“m-more, please. want more. want both of you. please.” satoru places a gentle kiss on your lips. “you’re so good for us, baby. a perfect listener. you think you can take us both? you think your tight little hole can fit both of us?” you moan out loud at his words.

“i don’t know, satoru. she might not be able to handle us.” suguru’s teasing you and you know it, but you don’t care. the thought of them leaving you so wet and needy for them may have your cunt clenching on nothing but you think you might die if you don’t feel them stretching you out.

“nonono, please. please don’t. need it so bad. need you two so bad. wan’ your cocks in me, now. don’t care if it hurts” you think you might’ve broken them because now it’s them who can’t wait till you're done speaking. 

suguru stands up, dragging you up with him before he rips your panties off in one go. satoru, now standing behind you, is pushing your skirt as far up as it can go before pulling his dick out of his pants. suguru following his lead. 

they each keep one hand on a hip, keeping you upright. you feel satoru slip his dick between your folds from behind you, coating himself in your slick before pushing the tip into you. “oh, fuck. satoru, you’re so big” you hear suguru groan from in front of you. he’s using the same hand he fingered you with to stroke himself, waiting for you to adjust to satoru. 

satoru slowly pushes all the way in, stopping every inch or so when you let out a whine of discomfort. “breathe, baby. breathe” satoru may think he’s helping but his velvety voice in your ear is only turning you on more. your pussy doing anything but loosening up. after some time, you slowly grind your hips back onto him, letting him know you’re ready for him to move.

he starts with shallow thrusts and soon he’s going all the way back out before slamming his hips forward. your body shakes in their arms. you’re sure if they let go, you’d fall onto the floor. satoru’s pace doesn’t stay that way forever, though. you cry out a “s’toru, mo-move please” when you feel him slow his thrusts until he comes to a complete stop. 

“shhh, baby. suguru needs to feel you too, doesn’t he?” your eyes widen. you recall your words from earlier, you still want them more than anything but a feeling of uncertainty hits you. as if they can feel your unease, satoru nuzzles his nose into your neck while suguru rubs comforting circles into your hip. suguru gives you a kiss, wet and open mouthed. “you’ve been so good for us, yeah? we’ll take care of you” suguru whispers in your ear. his voice makes you clench harder around satoru.

you know satoru felt it because his mouth hasn’t left your neck and you can feel a grin spreading on his face. “we’ll go slow for you, sweetheart. you don’t need to do anything but be good for us. you can do that, right baby?” they wait for your response. though they’re both aching to be inside of you, they want to make sure you feel the same.

the room is silent when you speak. “p-please, wanna’ be your good girl” and they’re off. satoru stays still inside of you, instead moving one arm to wrap around your waist and his other hand to spread your pussy for suguru. “you gotta relax, sweet girl. there’s no way suguru’s gonna fit when you’re clenching down on me like that” suguru chuckles at the other man's words before he starts to squeeze his way in. satoru moves the fingers that were spreading you open to your clit, rubbing circles as suguru continues to push himself inside of you. 

your whines only get louder when they’re both finally inside of you. suguru is the first to speak. “you look so pretty like this. all stretched out on our dicks. i think we should keep her satoru.” satoru hums in agreement. “i think we should too. it’d be so nice to come home to her waiting so patiently for us to fuck her, take care of her” he lowers his voice adding a “and to love her” before you can process his words, satoru pulls all the way out and all the way back in. you let out a borderline pornographic moan and you feel them both twitch at the sound. 

“p-please move” you sniffle. and move they do. when suguru pulls out, satoru pushes in. and when satoru pulls out, suguru pushes in. the room filled with your whines and cries of “‘s too much”, “can’t take it”, and “wan’ more”. they do their best to give you everything you need. satoru uses a hand coated with your slick to make you face him so he can smash his lips against yours. 

he’s rough with his kiss. shoving his tongue down your throat, making you suck on it and pulling it out just so he can nibble on your lips. suguru, on the other hand, has made himself busy with your neck. he leaves bite marks wherever he can, kissing the same area he bit softly as if he was soothing the pain. “ha-harder”

satoru breaks the kiss with a groan. “our girl is so greedy, suguru. should we give her what she wants? i’m not sure i heard a please” suguru, still busy with your neck, grunts softly in feigned disappointment. “i thought we had trained her better than that. maybe we shouldn’t give it to her” you shake your head at their words “no! n-no please. i’m sor-ry, i’ll be good. don’ stop, please”

this seems to satisfy them because they listen. and they listen well. they not only move harder, but somehow deeper too. suguru has one of your legs lifted in the air while satoru keeps you steady at your waist. your moans get louder and louder, a warning that you’re getting close. you know satoru and suguru are aware but you know better than to cum without asking. 

“c-can i? please ‘ve been so good, wanna cum s-so bad” you’re practically sobbing and they can feel themselves throbbing around you. satoru kisses your cheek and says something along the lines of “you can cum, baby” but you aren’t listening because suguru bit that spot on your neck and satoru hit that spot in your cunt and you’re seeing stars when you squirt on them. 

they only get in a few more thrusts before they fill you up with their cum. “holy shit” satoru chuckles “didn’t know you were a squirter, baby” you whine out in embarrassment, wanting to hide your face in your hands but you feel too tired to do anything.  

you whimper when suguru pulls out, followed by satoru. the feeling of being empty being foreign after being stuffed so full. suguru carefully places your leg down, making sure satoru is still holding you up. you’re not sure what he has planned because he has that stupid grin on his face that he and satoru share when they’re about to do something devious. 

when around forty seconds have passed and the only thing that’s happened is satoru leaving wet kisses along your back, you think you’re in the clear but your legs being moved. each one gently placed on the shoulder of a very handsome suguru who is currently on his knees between your legs. you want to protest, tell them you’re still recovering from the last orgasm but suguru presses a kiss to your clit. 

the constant stimulation has your clit protruding out, begging for attention, so how could he not kiss it some more? the sounds from between your legs are no less than obscene. suguru is groaning into your cunt. he kisses, sucks, bites, and you would be a fucking liar to say that it doesn’t feel as good as it hurts. “you have the sweetest pussy, pretty” he moans out between kisses “tastes so good”

satoru thinks he’s going to go insane. he would much rather be between your legs but he knows there’ll be more chances for him to do so in the future. for now, he’ll focus on pressing those kisses you seem to love on your back and neck while using one hand to show each of your tits equal amounts of attention. and also whispering dirty words into your ear that only shove you closer and closer to the edge you’ve been teetering on. 

“does suguru’s tongue feel good, baby? you like being used by us? you wanna come all over his face like a good girl?” you do. you want to be nothing but the best for them. you wish they would never stop praising you. “y-yes, fuck, wanna be your good girl. wan’ to cum so bad, please can i?” you know nothing of pride, you only know suguru and satoru are making you feel so good that you can barely remember your own name.

it’s only when suguru says your name in that rough voice of his before telling you to come that you remember. you cum hard on his face, his mouth never stopping but only slowing down and moving to place gentle kisses on your clit. “you did so well for us, sweetheart” satoru moves his hands up and down your sides to sooth your trembling body. when suguru leaves to grab a washcloth to clean you up, satoru is still whispering comforting praises into your ear. he backs up to sit himself in a chair and tugs you into his lap. “shhh, it’s okay, baby. i got you”

suguru returns with a wet washcloth. “can you open up for me, pretty? jus’ gonna clean you, nothing else” satoru knows your body is capable of moving just yet so he takes your whine as the okay for him to spread you open for his friend. once suguru’s done, he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

suguru dresses you in one of his oversized shirts before satoru takes you to his bed. they let you sleep while they clean themselves up before joining you in bed as well. you wake up later that night to two sleeping boys and an ache between your legs. they each are touching you in their own ways, suguru nuzzled into your neck and satoru’s hand wrapped possessively around your waist. you find yourself drifting back into sleep and the next time you wake up, there’s a note on the bedside table.

“we stepped out for a bit but we’ll be back soon with breakfast, baby ;)” 

-

tuesday comes by again once more and this time you’re the only one staying behind. the past three days have been spent “studying” at suguru and satoru’s place and you’re finally ready to hear about your test results from your professor. when he returns your paper, you know there’s only one thing to do.

you text the two boys a picture of your grade on your exam making sure the big 98% written on top of a “nice work!” is clearly shown.

-you: i think i deserve a reward

©storusangel. any and all forms of modifications, reposts, and translation of my work are prohibited.

[consultingskeletondetective]

Colonel's Girl

You’re the young army nurse on base and König decides to keep a protective eye on you. You don’t mind at all, the Colonel is sweet and safe - until he isn’t.

masterlist 🩷 ao3

tags: military inaccuracies, blood and injury, angst, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex

This was your first time on a real military base. You’d done field medic training of course, but this was the first time in your career as an army nurse that you’d been shipped out to base, far from home, calling a tiny bunk room your own in a building full of rowdy young recruits. 

Their daily training brought them to you constantly with scrapes and bruises and concussions. They were feisty, adrenaline-fuelled young men, and you were one of the few women on base. The catcalling and the leering didn’t surprise you, even if it was unwelcome. 

“What time do you get off, darlin’?” Private Turner drawled in a cockney accent as you applied butterfly stitches to a bleeding split across his eyebrow. “Maybe I can come to your room and we can keep each other company-”

“Turner!” It was barked, a stern command from an accented voice. The private paled as Colonel König stomped into your clinic, and you blushed. König was a very imposing man. He was at least 6”9 by your reckoning, and just as broad, in his late 30s or early 40s with a thick Austrian accent. His years of military training had given him a thick, muscular frame, with his broad thighs barely contained in cargo trousers and steel-capped boots on his feet, a black tee stretched over his chest and biceps the size of your torso. You knew what he looked like under that hood, square jawed and piercing blue eyes, but today he’d kept it on, his eyes framed and dark. It was no surprise you blushed whenever you saw him.

“Colonel?” He stood and turned. His voice held none of its previous bravado. Next to König, he looked like a mere boy.

“Two weeks of toilet cleaning duty.” König said gruffly, “and if I catch you using that kind of language again, it will be a month. Understood?”

Turner slumped. “Yes, sir.”

“Get out of my sight.”

Turner, chastised, scampered out of your clinic without looking at you.

König turned his hulking form towards you and actually had to look down to greet you. 

“Pardon, ma’am. He won’t step out of line again.”

Ma’am . Your blush deepened. You gave him a small, nervous smile. 

“Thank you, Colonel, that’s very kind of you.”

“These boys don’t know yet how to respect a lady, but they will.”

“Once you’re done with them?” You smiled playfully.

“If I have done my job correctly.” He said kindly, before turning on his heel and leaving swiftly. You giggled. 

You didn’t see much of König at the start of training, his rank and his experience meant that he didn’t end up in your clinic as much as his recruits did, but when you did pass each other in the hall or by exchanging paperwork, he was nothing less than a courteous and charming gentleman. It seemed bizarre, considering you’d heard tell that he was a brawling killing machine out on the field, but he could switch from barking stiff orders to giving you a gentle smile that made you blush in the blink of an eye. You had to routinely remind yourself that this didn’t make you special, he was just being respectful, and you weren’t used to that. It didn’t matter that he was a soldier, or nearly twice your age, it didn’t take you long to develop a crush on the handsome and mysterious Austrian. 

A few days later and you were stood in line to the mess hall. It was breakfast, and you’d seen the black pudding in the warming trays as soon as you’d stepped in. You were practically salivating as you waited, it wasn’t often you got a creature comfort like this - something that reminded you of home - on base.

“Not often we get this kind of luxury, eh, miss?” You recognised the coarse accent before you turned. Lieutenant Riley had joined you in the line, a balaclava covering his face. You knew him a little, the infamous Ghost. You’d crossed paths with the 141 on occasion, and you knew Riley, sometimes even Captain Price, dropped into the base to provide training or engage your services. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to make polite conversation with you. In fact, it seemed the norm here. The high rankers felt a bit sorry for you, while the recruits made you feel like a piece of meat or an object of ridicule. 

You didn’t mind much, you were here to do a job, and you kept to yourself mostly anyway, but the offer of friendship was much appreciated. 

You smiled a little shyly in return. “I know, right? I hope the black pudding doesn’t go too quickly. I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”

“A girl after my own heart.” The lieutenant chuckled. In front of you, two privates who had been turning around to eavesdrop on the conversation - more to get a look at Ghost, than you, you understood - burst into laughing at your admission. Your ears turned red and you wished you’d never opened your mouth.

Riley didn’t seem to notice, he was holding his gloved hand out to König, who had somehow appeared next to him in the line since you’d looked away. You actually had to do a double take. For a near seven foot slab of muscle, he was stealthy when he wanted to be. 

The two of them talked among themselves in low voices and you left them to it, knowing you didn’t particularly want to hear the contents of whatever they needed to discuss.

You reached the front of the line and the private in front of you - the one who had laughed - piled his tray high with black pudding until the warming tray was empty. He turned and smirked mockingly at you.

“You can have my sausage, darlin’, if you ask nicely.” At least three recruits laughed. You wanted to shrink down so small you stopped existing altogether.

König’s brick hand clamped around the private’s tray and wrenched it easily from his grip.

“Sir-my breakfast…”

“Get out of the line, or I will feed you my fist.” König didn’t even raise his voice, the cold delivery had the private skulking off empty handed. König placed the tray back onto the counter and then he turned to you. 

“Help yourself, ma’am.” 

“Oh.” Your cheeks were crimson. He cocked his head, his eyes, the only part of his face visible through his black hood, looked amused. It wasn’t unkind. “T-thank you.” 

König tipped his hood towards you before turning his attention back to Riley, and the pair of them moved off to a separate table. You sat by yourself, chewing your black pudding, and smiling like an idiot. 

You glanced over to König a few times more than you would like to admit. He put you at ease, that’s what it came down to, it gave you a confidence you didn’t usually have around military men. 

It was that very ease that left you wholly unprepared for the following week.

It was ballistics training out on the grounds, and you caught wind of an accident halfway through your sandwich.

“Come quick!’ An officer skidded into your office, “there’s been an accident - potential fatality.”

You cursed, and gathered your supplies, before following him out of your clinic and out onto the training ground. Recruits stood nervously holding rifles, their half-shot targets abandoned. A young recruit was wailing on the ground, another kneeling beside him and pressing against his belly with a jacket, there was blood on the sand. 

König was towering over a young private - the same young man who had laughed at you in the mess hall, you briefly noted - and barking bloody murder in his terrified face. It took you more than a moment to realise that König wasn’t actually speaking German, you could just barely make a word out in his fury. 

It was easy to tune out, you’d been out in the field before, and turn your attention to your patient. You knelt beside the terrified looking private stemming the bleeding, and carefully lifted his jacket to look at his wound while the young man screamed.

“You’re going to be okay.” You said confidently, calmly. “It’s nothing we can’t stitch up. Private, keep putting pressure on the wound, just like this, you’re doing a good job.” Just this once, you were obeyed without question. 

“I will have you court-martialed, dummkopf, you could have killed him. You come onto my base, you do not listen to a word I say, and now you attack my men? You sorry piece of -”

“König,” you cut through the accented remonstration, pulling bandages from your bag, “I need your men to carry him to my clinic immediately, then you have to-”

König turned swiftly to you, those bright blue eyes visibly narrowed in the slits of his hood. “Do not fucking give me orders, nurse.” He seethed, voice ice cold with rage, fists clenched and towering over you. “You address me as Colonel, you little girl.” The white hot fury in his eyes matched the venom in his voice. You baulked, in fear, in surprise, horrified to realise tears were gathering in your eyes. You looked back down on the man in your arms and forced yourself to regain your composure.

“I need to get him to my clinic, I can’t lift him myself.” Your voice was steady, if muted, throwing your gaze over your shoulder at König and the recruits staring at you. “Please, colonel .”

König turned from you and began barking your orders at his men and within moments, your patient was being carried between three recruits back to your clinic. You turned and rushed after them. You extracted the bullet from his ribs and sewed up the damage as numbly as you treated any one of your patients. You left your makeshift surgery room with bloody hands and sweat on your forehead, surprised to find König leaning against the wall in your waiting room. He’d stripped out of his uniform to a simple pair of combat trousers and a black shirt that looked like it was losing a fight with his bicep muscles. His hood was held lax in his hand, giving you a rare glimpse at his face. It was no surprise to you that he looked exhausted. He pushed himself from the wall when you entered. Like a gentleman , you thought bitterly.

“Will he live?” He asked you, his voice soft. It was just like every other interaction you’d had on base. 

“It was a flesh wound. He’ll be fine, Colonel.” Your words were stiff, and you walked straight past him without even a glance, feeling like a complete idiot that you’d ever thought he might treat you with the slightest bit of respect. You were angry until the adrenaline wore off, then you cried in your bed.

The recruit, Jenkins, pulled through the night, and the next day he was airlifted to the nearest hospital. The accidental shooter was gone, and you didn’t care to ask what had happened. Training was halted for a few days as a result and you had a quiet week, but you weren’t complaining, as you now had a mountainous amount of paperwork to complete. You were grateful when you were able to file the heft of paper into your pigeon hole to be sent off, and rewarded yourself with a sit down in the breakroom to the main office.

You looked up on instinct more than anything when the door opened. König walked in, in combat boots and a military vest, his hood over his eyes and helmet strapped to his head, like he’d just come straight from deployment. He glanced at you with tired blue eyes, but all you could see was the fury in them when he’d scared you the week before. You felt stupid for thinking someone like König would ever be nice to you. You were just the idiot girl on base.

“Morning, ma’am.” He said pleasantly when he saw you, slipping one hand into his trouser pocket as he poured himself coffee from the pot on the table.

“Hey.” You replied, voice flat, suddenly finding your nails remarkably interesting.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” Another one word answer. You still weren’t looking at him. 

König shifted uneasily. The atmosphere in the room changed. Of course it did, he was used to you being a blushy, smiling, pathetic mess for him. 

Concerned, König crossed the small space to you. He didn’t sit. From what you could see from your lowered head, his hand was no longer in his pocket.

“If this is about what happened…you did well, Jenkins will recover.”

“I know I did fine.” You genuinely didn’t mean to snap. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”

The conversation went dead, the atmosphere was palpable. You didn’t know whether it was his culture, or his military status, but König went right to the point.

“Have I offended you?”

Was he being willfully obstinate? You felt your humiliated aggravation grow. Well, you were in it now.

“Just leave me alone.”

There was a pause. And then another. Neither of you moved.

“As you wish.”

He left swiftly after that, and you finally looked up at the empty room. You felt relieved, but also hollow. It was almost like you’d done something wrong. But you hadn’t, had you? König’s coffee was abandoned on the table.

König left you alone, and that pissed you off even more. He walked past you in the mess hall, he didn’t glance down to smile at you anymore, he didn’t come into the clinic, even though you secretly hoped he would. Your self-esteem was pretty much on the floor after that, and the base got just that little bit lonelier.

Two recruits barrelled into your office a few days later, one had a busted lip and they both had black eyes. They'd clearly been in a fight, but whether that was with each other, or someone else, you didn’t care to ask. You stayed quiet as you applied butterfly stitches to their cuts, and they were happy enough to complain between themselves.

“You’re a dickhead, Williams, the Colonel’s gonna fucking kill us.” 

“Relax, he’s not going to know.”

“He’s been such a dick lately. He put Taylor on shit detail for a fortnight for having his shoelace untied.”

“Probably because he has to look at your fucking ugly mug every day.”

“You’re done.” You cut across. “You can go.”

They thanked you and left, and you were grateful to get the foul mouthed privates out of your office. 

It was getting dark outside and you were tired. You left your clinic and crossed the training ground to the mess hall. There were still soldiers out here, practising hand to hand combat under the floodlights. You gave them a wide berth.  

You didn’t see the abandoned dummy grenade wedged in the sand until your foot hooked around it and you vaulted over with an unladylike grunt. 

A large hand curled around your wrist and stilled you before you ate dirt. You cursed under your breath and turned inward. König was towering above you, your wrist positively dwarfed by his gloved hand. His hood obscured his face, shrouding him in the darkness behind him, all except those bright eyes looking down on you.

“You should be more careful.” He grunted, releasing your wrist.

Your eyes hit the ground and you mumbled a hasty ‘sorry’ before you scampered away to the mess hall. König watched your retreating back as you left.

The next few days passed uneventfully. You worked, you ate, you slept, you called home. The clinic was surprisingly empty. You wondered if the recruits were finally becoming competent enough that they didn’t need you every five seconds. You signed off your discharge sheets for the day and headed to the main office to dump them in the output box. You were surprised to find König in there, sans hood, rifling through a box of papers on the desk. He glanced up when he saw you and his expression wilted. He looked back into the box. 

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” He said. “I just need to find the instruction manual for the - s cheiße .” The papers in his hand fluttered to the ground. He bent down to retrieve them and winced, arm circling his broad torso. 

You frowned and took a step closer to him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. 

“Nothing.” He replied instantly as he straightened. His movements were slower than usual. 

“It doesn’t look like nothing, König, it looks like cracked ribs.”

“It’s fine, really.”

You put your discharge forms on the desk and walked up to him. “Lift your shirt.”

König sighed but complied after a moment. He lifted his dark tee to his pectorals. His deep abdominal muscles rose and fell under his breathing and you found your cheeks reddening under the sight. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around his torso, and you reached out and lifted it. His skin was like lava against your fingers. He didn’t say a word as you lifted the bandage but he may have winced when your eyes widened. The right hand side of his ribcage was purple with deep bruising and lacerated with deep and shallow cuts alike, some were healing, and some were leaving blood stains on the inside of the bandage. 

“Oh my god, what happened?”

“Nothing.” König grunted. “Machine gun training. One of the recruits lost control of the barrel and clocked me in the ribs. It is just a scratch.”

“This cut needs stitches.” You said automatically, tracing the underside of the welt with your fingertip. König jolted and you took your hand away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You didn’t.” He replied.

“I have cream that’ll reduce this bruising too-” König huffed and you looked up at him. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. He might as well have been wearing his hood.

“It is fine.” He said. “The bruising has disappeared a lot in the last few days…”

“ Days ?” You blinked. “Days, König? You can’t have been walking around like this for days. Why didn’t you come to me?”

There was a pause. He was trying to avoid your gaze.

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“König,” it was reprimanding, reproachful, your eyes slackened. “You always need to come to me when you’re hurt, even when I’m mad. I’m sorry.”

König’s eyes snapping to you made you regret the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. Your gaze dropped to the grazes on his ribs but your cheeks were already on fire. 

“Are you ever going to tell me why you are mad at me?”

You didn’t meet his gaze. It seemed pathetic now. “You yelled at me.”

König didn’t respond straight away. When he did - “I yelled at you?”

You fought off the sudden urge to say sorry.

“When Jenkins was shot.” You explained. “I’m not one of your soldiers. I don’t like being screamed at, especially when I’m doing my job.” Your voice dropped a little. “And I’m not a little girl, I’m a nurse. You should respect that, just like the way you tell your troops to.”

You glanced up at König, he looked crestfallen. “I��” He frowned a little, as if giving up on any explanation he planned to give. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head, embarrassed, and lowered his shirt.

“It’s not important now-”

“It is important. I don’t think you are a little girl. Sometimes in battle, things like this become heated. I do not even remember saying this to you, but I am sorry. I do not think that, I truly do not, I was…one of my men was dying, I was not myself. Please forgive me.”

Your eyes met. It felt like the first time you’d looked at each other in a long time. König’s blue eyes were soft and sad.

“Um, come to the clinic, this afternoon,” you rose, flustered, “I, uh, that cut needs looking at.”

You turned swiftly and left but not before you heard König utter a single ‘yes ma’am’ before you did. 

You thought about what he said as you sterilised your clinic for his arrival. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but you managed to keep your cool? Why didn’t he? Because he’s a soldier, you reminded yourself. He kills easily and without thought, he’s not the sweet gentleman you want him to be. You shook your head to yourself, that wasn’t the issue and you knew it. You didn’t care that he was a killer, or that sometimes he scared you. You knew what his easy dismissal of you meant - and it hurt.

König reported promptly to your clinic at 1pm that afternoon. He stripped out of his shirt and sat patiently down on the end of your bed and you had to pretend like having a 7ft goliath of a man stripped down in front of you wasn’t making your heart race. He truly was extraordinary. 

You stitched the large cut on his ribs that was worrying you the most and he didn’t make a sound. it didn’t much surprise you, you assumed he was accustomed to pain. It made your stomach flutter with something . 

He was even more impressive undressed, his body heavy with swollen, toned muscle, faded scars criss-crossing over his flesh. You had to remind yourself that you were a trained nurse just to stop yourself from drooling. 

König watched you work rather intently. “You have very small hands.” He remarked suddenly. You didn’t respond, unsure if it was a compliment or not. You both lapsed into silence for another long while. It was like a form of torture. You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. You felt like a foolish little girl, trying to play with a grizzly bear. It must have shown on your face. 

You didn’t expect König to talk again. He must have thought that you were insane - pathetic, at the very least. 

“May I ask you a question?”

Oh. “Of course.”

“Why did you join the military if you hate being yelled at?”

You sighed and finished off your final stitch. “You don’t have to mock me, you know, I already got the message.”

“I am not mocking you. I’m curious.”

Forthright . You forgot.

You took a moment to respond, busying yourself with packing away your equipment. “I didn’t join as a recruit, I joined as a nurse.” You didn’t tell him the real reason, that it was because it was him.

“Right.” 

“It’s not your problem.” 

König stood, and pulled his shirt back on. “It won't happen again.” He said. “You have my word.” 

Your gaze flicked to his handsome face involuntarily. “Um, here’s the cream. Make sure to apply it twice a day, and try to take it easy for a few days.”

König grunted, a ghost of a smile on his face. You could tell he hadn’t taken it easy a day in his life. 

“What message?” König asked suddenly. 

“Sorry?” You froze, trying to backtrack to that particular exchange.

“You said you ‘got the message’.” He repeated. “What message?”

Oh. 

“Um, did I say that?” Your voice was uncharacteristically high. König tilted his head.

“Schatz, my English isn’t that bad. We both heard what you said.”

You blushed and your head dipped. You didn’t know much German, but you knew what ‘schatz’ meant. 

“Well, you know-” fuck, shit, fuck . “P-put in your place by the guy you have a crush on. I get it. I got it. I won’t go there again.”

“Crush?” König responded like a lightning strike, before he fell silent. His brain was calculating, before his expression turned to…well, there was no other way to put it, absolutely fucking floored. “You like me?”

Oh, this was very fucking bad.

“Well…yeah? I thought it was obvious-”

“Obvious? Schatz, I thought you hated me.”

You blinked. 

“Wha- why would you think that?”

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“You called me a little girl! In front of everyone.”

When exactly had you both gotten so close to each other? It was close enough that König could look down on you, and your heart was skipping a beat.

“You can’t like me.” He said quietly.

You frowned. “Why not? Have you looked at yourself? Plus you’re…you know, nice, and the only person in this dump that doesn’t leer at me or treat me like a stupid little girl. When people aren’t dying, I mean.”

“I…” Was König hesitating? The man who had nothing to fear?

“It’s okay,” you murmured, embarrassed. “Like I said, I get the message. Why would you want a pathetic sap like me who can’t even hear a raised voice without crying?”

“Do not say that.” König looked uncertain, his eyebrows knitting together. “You are like a...a flower. Not meant for men like me.”

“A…” Your brain couldn’t quite compute what you’d just heard. “Men like you? What does that even mean?”

“You need someone younger, for a start.” He sighed. “Someone who has seen less death, verdammt, someone who has caused less death.”

“Men like your idiot recruits, then?”

König didn’t respond. 

“I have to go.” He said instead. “Thank you for the…cream.”

“Anytime, Colonel.” It was softly spoken, you watched him freeze, then you watched him go. You smuggled a bottle of wine back to your room and drank until you fell asleep. This really was a new low.

…

The days passed slowly and without incident. On the face of it, there was no difference in you, except for a notably lacklustre delivery of your care. 

You were making notes at your desk when Private Jackson and his buddy, Williams, appeared at your desk, complaining of a groin injury. 

You rolled your eyes and returned to your paperwork. “I’m sure it’ll feel better tomorrow, private.”

“I’m sure it’ll feel better right now if you kiss it-”

“Shut up,” Williams chuckled, shoving him, “you wanna get a disciplinary? You know she’s the colonel’s girl.”

Your gaze snapped up. “What did you just say?”

Neither of them answered you, they just sniggered and slunk off. You watched the empty doorway with wide eyes. You tried not to ponder on it. You pondered on it for the rest of the day.

…

You signed the bottom of Williams’ sick leave and ticked off the various appropriate boxes, flipping the page and hoping that was all that was required until you froze. It needed the signature of the patient's C.O. König. Shit. 

You hadn’t even seen König since he’d rejected you and every time you thought about that particular exchange, your ears went hot and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

You were too much of a pussy to talk to him, so instead you went to his office when you knew he was scheduled to be out at training, and scribbled ‘ sign me please :) ’ on a post it note, stuck it on the front page and left the form on his desk. 

You turned for the door with a relieved sigh and accidently walked into König’s solid chest. He was standing in the open doorway, he was the size of the open doorway, wearing his combat gear although he was unarmed, his hood draped covering his face, even so, you could see he was looking down on you. It wasn’t until you glanced up that you realised he was ducking to fit in the doorway. That sent heat right to your cunt.

“Oh, hello.” You said stupidly, eyes hitting the carpeted floor.

“Hello.” He greeted you, accent gentle. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, right, I’m in your office.” You stumbled over your words. “Um, W-Williams needs sick leave approved, he needs gallbladder surgery off base, I need you to sign the form. I - I left it on your desk.”

König walked past you, he smelt of sweat and sand and some sort of hastily applied deodorant. He seemed unfazed that you were in his office, he certainly didn’t seem to be trying to avoid you as ardently as you were avoiding him. You cursed yourself for being so childish.

He removed his hood and draped it over the back of his chair as he picked up the form. His eyes were darkened with war paint, fresh stubble on his jaw. 

“A smiling face.” He remarked as he read your post it note, voice muted. “The way yours used to be.”

You blinked. “Is that meant to be some kind of joke?” You asked hotly.

“Not at all.” He replied, not looking up from the form. “It used to brighten my days.” He signed the form and held it out to you before you could really process what he’d said. “Let us hope Williams makes a swift recovery, he is one of my best.”

You tentatively took the form, mind drawn back to the last encounter you’d had with the young private. 

“He called me…” You bit back your sentence before you had a chance to finish it. But the damage was done.

König’s back straightened, his fists clenched. “Something inappropriate?”

“No.” Your shoulders hunched. Why did you even bring it up? “He said I was…they’re calling me…you know…the colonel’s girl.”

You glanced up at König shyly, to see if there was any truth in it. His back had relaxed, but his stance was still guarded. 

“What?” You asked.

“I told the recruits to leave you alone.” He admitted. “Or there would be consequences.” 

“Oh.” You blushed. “But, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

“No, it’s not…some of the men have interpreted the order to mean I am keeping you for myself.”

You took a bold step forward.

“And are you?”

König looked at the floor. You sighed and turned for the door.

König’s large hand curled around the front of your throat before you could turn and drew you back, right to his mouth. You whimpered into the kiss. You were forced onto your tiptoes to meet him, feeling his fingers against your oesophagus with every exhale. His lips eased wetly and insistently against yours until you were dizzy, gripping his arms and pressing yourself closer. 

As soon as it started, it was over. König released your throat and took a step back. You had to blink a few times to regain just a few of your senses. You were still on your tiptoes, and you could still taste him on your mouth. Gunpower, and mint.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was ragged, his accent even thicker than usual. Fuck, it was hot.

He turned and left before you could even articulate a response, but you were sure you saw his back muscles twitching as he went.

…

The deployment for the first active mission came about quicker than anyone had been expecting. It was practically a dummy mission, you’d been told, leading a team of recruits on a sweep near cartel lands for stray activity or potential landmines. Still, the atmosphere was palpable in the base, the recruits were scared, you could tell.

You watched from the doorway of your clinic as the men stood by the jeeps, ready to roll out. Riley had returned, and he stood next to König as the latter zipped up his kevlar and clipped on his helmet over his hood. You wanted to wish him luck, even though you knew everything was going to be fine. It was a routine sweep, and he was König, he wasn’t in any danger. Still, your stomach pulled. Fate was cruel. What if this was the last time you ever saw him?

You scrunched your eyes shut, called yourself an idiot, and jogged across the sand of the training field.

Riley saw you first, he knocked König on the chest to alert him - you tried not to read into that - König turned, face obscured, body heavy with kevlar and weaponry. He had to lower his head to look at you.

“Schatz?” 

Your insides ached at the familiar term of endearment that you didn’t deserve. Your mouth was as dry as the sand you were stood on, and you suddenly didn’t know what to say. Don’t go? Come back? How could you say any of those things to the man who didn’t want you.

König solved your problem for you. His fingers closed around your tricep, and his thumb stroked just once.

“Look after yourself.” You said quietly.

He nodded before he dropped your arm. Then you watched as they got into the jeeps and drove away.

…

The recruits were returned to you on a daily basis. Apparently, the drop point of the sweep was particularly hot for cartel soldiers, ready and willing to engage in battle. The wounds you were treating now were not the cuts and scrapes of training, it was cracked skulls and broken bones and lacerated flesh. And the men, Turner, Williams, Jackson, they weren’t the scrappy, joking lads they’d once been, they were crying and they were scared. 

You slept when you could but you were always exhausted. You were waiting for the first time one of them died on you. 

You were awoken that night by a loud, insistent banging on your door. You jumped out of bed and tied your robe around yourself, already gathering your hair up to tie it back.

“What’s happened?” You called, opening the door, “who is it…oh.”

It took a moment for you to realise that you weren’t staring at the pitch black of night, but rather directly at König’s chest. He stood in a dark shirt, helmet removed, hood covering his face, head disappearing behind your doorway, but his blue eyes were bright and wild and looking down at you.

“König! You scared me half to death. Get in here.”

You stood aside and König ducked his head and walked, actually stomped, his way into your room. You prayed you didn’t have any stray underwear on the floor. His shirt sleeves were short and you could actually see his arm muscles thrumming. 

“What’s happened?” You frowned. “What’s wrong, König? Talk to me, please.”

“There was an I.E.D.” He replied, accent thick. You couldn’t imagine what his expression looked like. “Ghost saw it before I did. He pulled me out of the pathway. The fucking thing exploded five feet in front of my face. I could have died. I am a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, König, you…you didn’t die, and you’re not an idiot, okay? Every soldier misses…”

“No, schatz.” He walked forward, backing you against the wall. You swallowed when his large hand came up, pressing your collarbone back against the wall. “I’m a fucking idiot because I could have died without doing this.”

One hand curled around your hip and lifted you effortlessly, and you gasped as you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist - it was a stretch, he was so broad. König wasted no time slamming you into the wall next to your bed with enough force to rattle your bones. You squeaked, but that was all you managed to do. He pushed his hood up to his nose and captured your lips with his.

Your eyes crossed and closed as you groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as your lips slid against his. This was nothing like the first kiss - that was chaste, hurried, this was luxurious, long, wet and slow, the whole world went quiet as König pressed his tongue between your lips and lapped at yours with sure strokes that had you whimpering. Your fingers tangled in his hood as he kissed you like that, and you forgot everything else. 

He hitched your legs around his waist and you whined, muffled, as you felt a solid lump pressing up against your clothed crotch. You didn’t care – you ground down on him as you met his tongue with yours. He growled into your mouth and it reverberated through you, before he was pulling back, kissing along your jaw and grinding his cock against your heat harder than before. 

Then his eyes were on you, piercing and bright through the dark hood, the fabric sat askew on his top lip, his lips pink and swollen with your spit.

“I want you, schatz.” He said bluntly. 

“I - I want you, too.”

Your consent was all he needed. Suddenly you were airborne again, and you clung onto him as he lowered you onto the belt and knelt between your legs. The bed actually dipped under his weight and you blushed.

“K-König,” you murmured quietly.

“No,” it was short, and stiff, as he yanked your night shirt down by your collar hard enough to rip. You yelped as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room and suddenly your tits were exposed. You whimpered in embarrassment but he’d already grabbed them in his rough, gloved hands, squeezing and rubbing, flicking and pinching your nipples between his fingers.

“Hhhh, fuck.” You blushed, biting your lip as your underwear moistened at the rough treatment.

“Fuck, do not tell me they are sensitive.” König’s voice sounded wrecked.

“Please,” it was a whisper, “please be gentle.”

“Wanted to get my hands on you for too long.” Was all his reply was as he squeezed your breast again and leant down, using his hand to guide your nipple into his exposed mouth. He sucked so hard that you thought he was trying to drink your soul out from you. Your head fell back and you gasped, grinding your wet, needy cunt as best you could on the side of his thigh. König took pity on you, lapping at your nipples until they were shining nubs screaming in oversensitivity, while his brick hand - when had he taken his glove off? - cupped your pussy through your underwear. His thumb was jammed right up against your clit. You didn’t know if he’d meant to do that, or if it was coincidental, but either way you ground up onto the solid digit until your eyes were unfocused.

“So wet for me, liebling,” he murmured breathlessly, between your nipples, “you are fucking soaked for me.” He stroked you with his thumb once and your eyes slackened and you came with a shudder, stiffening beneath him as stars danced above your head.

He let your nipple slide wetly from his mouth and suddenly those bright eyes were on you.

“Did you just have an orgasm?”

“Mmm.” You buried your head into his neck shyly, thighs shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your clit twitched against his hand. 

“Oh, sweet liebling.” He murmured, rubbing wet circles over the sodden fabric of your underwear. You shuddered as your thighs tried to close away from the intense pleasure, until one strong hand was on your thigh and pushing it wide.

“König!” You gasped. He was watching you intently as he pushed your underwear to the side with his fingers and pressed the thick digits through your sopping folds. 

“Such a pretty little cunt.” He murmured, stroking his fingertips over your slit. It opened with every heavy breath you took, dribbles of desire wetting his fingers.

“König, please,” you whined, “need you in me. Please -”

“Oh yes? Is that so?” The side of his mouth twitched up, then his finger was sinking inside you.

“Shit, fuck! K-König, you’re so big…” You felt your cunt stretching around his finger, clenching involuntarily down around it as your thighs tried to close but couldn’t, pinned open by his solid hand.

“I know, schatz.” He replied calmly. “You can take it.” He slid a second finger in without warning and grunted at how tight and wet you were, just imagining how your cunt would feel around his cock. You whined and threw your head back, the stretch aching after months of nothing, thighs shaking. You were so fucking wet that his fingers practically glided in, his knuckles against your soft pink entrance. “I want you to come for me, to loosen you up for my cock.”

“König, fuck, I…” Your cheeks were rosy. “My god, please...please move, I need-”

“Shhh, little one, I know.” He wasted no time shoving his fingers deeper in your aching cunt, and you yelped and lifted off of the bed entirely. König growled in disapproval and used the hand on your thigh to pin you down to the bed, keeping you still as he ploughed his fingers in and out of you. You moaned deliriously at the sudden intense, rough pressure to your sweet spot, watching the way König’s large hand was like a blur between your legs.

“I’m-” You couldn’t even say it before you were coming with a wet moan, your release splashing against his wrist and dripping all over the bed.

“Scheiße, liebling, making such a mess for me.” His fingers were still hard and circling your engorged sweet spot. Your body seized in panic as you gripped his wrist with all your might to try and still him. All you achieved was watching your own arms shake as he fingered you mercilessly. The noise was obscene, soaking wet come and slick filthy between your legs and soaking his hand as you squirted again, streaming down his arm with a mix of clear and white desire. You moaned and gasped and sobbed, the pleasure intense and spiralling, your pussy already felt worn out from the rough treatment.

“König, please,” you begged, “it’s too much-”

“Again.” He commanded, hand leaving your thigh and curling around your throat. “Want all of that squirt out of you.” he pinned you to the bed by your neck, using the change in position to drive his fingers roughly home deep in your aching, spent cunt. He didn’t stop when you came, and he didn’t stop when you came again - your eyes in the back of your head, body on fire with ceaseless pleasure, the bed beneath you soaked with your own humiliation. All you could do was take it, and shudder violently. 

Finally, König pulled his fingers from your gaping hole and slapped your cheek lightly, it was a wet noise and you blinked.

“Come on, little girl, do not give up on me.”

“König,” you slurred, heaving. “I…fuck, so good, never…I can’t…”

“Oh sweet one,” he cooed, crowding between your legs, pulling your thighs over his hips. “Fucked you stupid and I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”

You managed a tired smile as you traced your fingers down the front of his stab vest. You watched him drag the zip of his trousers down, rubbing just the once over the lump there before dipping in and pulling his cock free. It took him three tries - to extract the full, erect length of himself from the tight compression of his protective cup, before he was letting it hang heavy between his legs. 

“Fuck, König- you’re so big.”

“I know, baby,” he stroked the length of his long, engorged cock from length to tip and your eyes widened, cunt throbbing between your legs in your desperation to feel it deep in you. 

“König, please,” you begged, digging your heels into the small of his back, your wet cunt pressed up against his balls, inviting, begging him in, “my pussy - please -”

He chuckled before pressing the head of his foreboding cock against your clit and you trembled and cursed. He lent over you, hand squeezing your breast, the ends of his dark hood tickling your neck as you felt the hot, solid crown of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes were wide, nervous, feeling the pressure, the give, then the hot length sliding home inside of you.

You gasped and arched, clenching around him and his biceps shook where he held you.

“Fuck, schatz, fuck, not so hard, you will make me come.”

“C-can’t help it.” It was a whine, rolling your hips and digging your heels in harder, trying to pull him deeper. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He panted, regaining some of his composure and locking his hand around your neck once more. His hips began to piston and you weren’t prepared for it, the shift of his massive cock in your tight walls making you moan and clench and writhe. Your cunt was obscenely wet, and every noise was a squelch that made you blush, until he was pounding into your sweet spot and you forgot everything.

“Fuck, König, fuck-” it was breathless, eyelids fluttering as you clenched and groaned and sprayed his cock, his balls, with your release. “I can’t - can’t stop, fuck,”

“Guh, fuck.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. His cock not slowing, pounding you like he was trying to nail the mattress beneath you. “So tight, liebling, your pussy is drawing me in. I’ve waited so long for this.”

You couldn’t ask him to explain, you were too busy coming, your world zeroed down to the tip of König’s dick abusing your swollen sweet spot. He curled his fingers under your knee and held your thigh up by your collarbone, exposing more of your vulnerable cunt to him as he thrust hard into your aching walls. 

Your moans were broken and never ending, blushing and squirming in delirious agony as you gushed and creamed on his cock, feeling your hot release on the backs of your thighs.

“Look at you,” König didn’t even have the decency to sound exerted as he took you apart. “You can’t stop coming, can you, schatz?”

“No.” There were tears in your eyes, your fingernails digging into his arms, holding on for dear life. “You need, please -” Your mouth fell open as you came again, the splash of your squirt explosive and filthy, “you need to come, please, I can’t, can’t come again, please, König, please.”

König framed your jaw with his hand, stroking along the bone as he slammed his hips into yours, forcing more of your come straight from you with a grunt.

“Nearly there, schatz.” He said into your mouth. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Fuck, please,” your walls clenched and contracted again, vaulted over the edge and nearly losing consciousness, clenching your fucked out cunt tight if only to help him get there. “Please, come, come in me, fuck.”

“Scheiße,” he groaned, cock jamming in your tight cunt as you came so hard you nearly pushed him out. He shoved his way back in and you wailed. “You want me to come inside? I’m not wearing…”

“König, please,” it was pathetic, and he couldn’t deny you, watching your sobbing eyes with his piercing blues as he slammed into your weeping cunt for a few more torturous minutes, then his forehead was pressed to yours and he groaned as he spilled inside you. He was so deep you couldn’t feel it, but you could feel his cock twitching, and you could feel yourself clenching and coming so hard you forced dribbles of his white come straight back out of your slit and dribbling down between your cheeks. 

König was breathing heavily against you as he held himself, forehead against yours, body framing yours, and you watched him as you shuddered and tried in vain to relax. He was…there were no words for it.

You let your hands trail down his clothed back, feeling the solid and bunching muscles there, feeling his cock heavy in your squirting pussy and wondering how the hell this had happened.

“König,” you had a warm, dizzying smile on your face. “You came back.”

He nodded mutedly, face partially obscured by his hood, as he stroked along your jaw, then your lips, and let his hulking body fall and rest beside yours. “Thought you might not want me.”

You shook your head, curling into his chest the best you could. He was still inside you.

“Want you, always. Don’t-'' He'd already curled his bear arms around you, drawing you into his warm chest and cutting you off. You were suddenly so overhot you couldn’t remember what you were going to say.

“I’m sorry I upset you, liebling,” he stroked along your back, his blue eyes slack. “I have always wanted you to be mine. From the moment I saw you.”

This felt like a fever dream. It couldn’t possibly be real. You couldn’t possibly be this happy.

“I’ve always been yours, König, I still am. If you still want me.”

He tilted his head as he watched you, lips pulling up, and you blushed.

“What?” You asked.

“You,” he said simply, voice warm like honey, “are smiling again.”