#and i didn’t want to spend more time than necessary on this. coughs

[oof-ow-my-bone]

idk what to caption this. bioshock shitpost hours

[nik-knight]

A More Gentle Touch

He had hardly spent more than three hours in his human-shaped corporation, yet he was already winded by the time he managed to lower all the shop’s curtains and finally lock the door. A quick miracle was sent behind him to flip the sign to “Most definitely closed” as he trudged into the back room to rest for the evening.

There had been no other way around it. It had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time to invite the book dealer over for a few negotiations; after all, she was an old colleague of his and a delight to have conversations with. However, when spending most of an afternoon around a human, it was nearly impossible to keep up the vague impression of being a human without actually becoming humanoid. Overall, it was easier to spend that time in a human corporation than holding on to a miracled façade for that long.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t still exhausting, though.

It was like walking around in clothes that were much too tight. Humans certainly were not the largest of Her creations, but they were still quite clumsy forms with arms and legs that had to move at the same time, heavy skin, dense bones, and weighty organs all packed inside a cumbersome package.

He transformed as soon as he sat on the sofa. The relief of it all was soothing at least. Fluffy feathers took the place of stuffy clothes, white wings replaced his heavy arms, and those pesky legs thinned to a comfortable weight that could easily be tucked under his body.

Finally, he could be soft and small in all the right ways. He had no idea how Crowley could be humanoid so often without facing similar fatigue. Perhaps that was why the demon spent most of his spare time asleep.

Despite finally being back into his much more comfortable form, the extended period in that skin suit had ruffled his feathers just as literally as metaphorically. There was an itchy irritation under his feathers, but he was much too tired to groom himself right now. All he wanted to do was curl up with a cup of tea and a good book, but the thought of gathering the necessary materials to do so (or even miracle them up) made him want to do nothing but settle into the cushions and stay there until he had the energy to move again. He allowed his tired eyes to drift shut, letting the quiet and dark of the room calm him for just a bit.

He had only been in his weary siesta for a few minutes when he smelled a rather familiar aroma in the back room. He tiredly blinked open his eyes just in time to catch a fresh cup of tea on a saucer delicately placed in front of him. He looked up to see Crowley, in his humanoid form for some reason, pushing the cup closer to where Aziraphale could comfortably dip his beak in for a sip.

“My dear?” He asked, unsure why Crowley was in that form so late in the evening. By now he was usually a snoring pile of coils wrapped around the base of one of Aziraphale's table lamps.

“You looked a little flustered, so I figured you might need a pick-me-up,” he shrugged as if he hadn’t done anything special. Aziraphale could feel his feathers fluff up at the amount of love that was coursing through his tiny body.

“Oh, my darling, how very kin—”

“Anyway,” Crowley coughed, not letting Azriaphale hit him with another four-letter word. “Your feathers are all ruffled, and since I have hands at the moment, I figured I could… Help you straighten them out a little. ‘F ya like, that is.” He turned his head away, trying and failing to hide the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. Luckily Aziraphale’s happy cooing had him looking back just in time to catch the angel’s happy wiggle and flutter.

“Oh, that sounds like just the thing my dear, if you don’t mind terribly?”

“Not at all.” Without a moment's hesitation, Crowley’s hand was held open by Aziraphale, letting him step gently onto his palm so Crowley could bring him to his lap as he sat down.

Aziraphale stretched his wings out as best he could to give Crowley room to work, and soon enough the demon’s fingers were gently grooming Aziraphale’s wings. It wasn’t anything too deep or intense, but just a slight straightening of a few ruffled feathers along with long gentle strokes across the wing to calm the rest of the dove’s frayed nerves. They paused every few minutes so that Crowley could bring the teacup back to Aziraphale’s beak to drink, then it was back to the relaxing grooming that soon had Aziraphale looking like a fluffy melted marshmallow in Crowley’s palm.   

“That good, angel?” Crowley asked after about thirty minutes of grooming and an extra ten minutes of gentle petting that neither one of them brought up.

“Very good, my dear. Thank you so very much.” Aziraphale opened his eyes that he hadn’t realized he had shut during the grooming. He turned his head so he could look back at his darling demon. “I hope it wasn’t too taxing for you to stay in that form just for me.”

Crowley simply gave him a small smile and shrugged. “Some things are worth shifting for.”

There was only the briefest tingle of a miracle before Crowley suddenly found himself with a lap full of human-shaped angel. “Too right, my dear.” He swiftly leaned in, pressing his lips against the demon’s. Crowley stiffened in surprise, but quickly returned the kiss, keeping it gentle and soft just for his angel. When Aziraphale finally pulled away, he only had a moment's notice before suddenly there was a large snake in his hands and lap.

Aziraphale couldn’t help but chuckle. “Getting tired, darling?”

“Just get down here, already, angel,” he grumbled, doing his best to keep himself from hiding his face in his coils.

“Oh, gladly.”

Then there on the sofa was a significantly less ruffled dove resting in his favorite nest of black and red coils. The book Aziraphale had been reading earlier that day was conveniently placed against the long loops of the scaley nest so that Aziraphale could easily read and the serpent’s tail could easily flip the pages. (Aziraphale was yet to discover that his feathers poofed up the slightest bit when he was done with a page, giving Crowley the wordless cue to flip to the next one.)

“Oh, you’re too good to me, dear.” With a happy little wiggle to settle comfortably in his love’s nest, he set his eyes on the beginning of the chapter.

“Shaddap…”

And if Crowley buried his head right into the soft feathers under Azriaphale’s breast to hide his face, well, no one bothered to mention it. After all, Aziraphale had a good book and good company to enjoy.

And enjoy it they did.

[by @nik-knight for @katiefrog217]

[alessiasfreckles]

i'll always look after you (part 2) (alessia russo x reader)

Your girlfriend is grumpy when she's sick. Part 1 here!

a/n: part 2 of the lessi sickfic! based on this request. i hope you like it! also big thank you to @wosoamazing for helping me out with the writer's block!!

-------

“I hate being sick,” your girlfriend grumbled, pouting. “It’s so boring.”

“I know, baby,” you said, giving her a quick kiss. “What did you get up to today?”

It was the third day of Alessia having to stay at home with an extremely stubborn cold. On the first day, she had almost enjoyed having a day off, using the day to sleep. On the second day, she started to get restless, annoyed by her own constant sniffling and coughing. Today, the third day, she was just downright grumpy. Your phone had been buzzing nonstop during training, making the other girls tease you about how bored Lessi clearly was. 

“Nothing!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up dramatically. 

“Nothing?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve just been lying here all day, not moving, not texting me, nothing?”

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and pouting again. “Okay, fine. I watched some tv, rewatched some old matches, maybe went for a small run, scrolled through instagram-”

“Wait, baby, did you just say you went for a run?” you asked incredulously.

“Maybe…” 

You sighed, sitting down next to her on the sofa. “You know you’re meant to be resting.”

“I know, I just. I hate being sick,” she sniffed. “And I thought maybe a little run would be okay, just to get me moving, and into the fresh air, y’know?”

“I know, baby,” you said, pulling her in to lean against you. “How was it?”

“Awful!” she said, bottom lip quivering. “I got to the end of the road and then started coughing and couldn’t stop and had to come back home.”

Tears of frustration brimmed up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. 

“Only a few more days, and then hopefully you’ll feel well enough to come back to training.” you tried to console her, but she pulled away. 

“I do feel better, though! It’s just this stupid cough and this stupid runny nose and-” she said, tears starting to stream down her face, and she hiccuped as you pulled her into a tight hug. “I miss playing football and training with you and all the girls. I know it’s stupid, we spend so much time training and playing, but I still miss it.”

You nodded, your heart breaking for her. “It’s not stupid, baby, I promise. I know exactly what you mean.”

You sat quietly for a moment, the silence broken by occasional sniffs from Alessia. 

“I have an idea,” you said, and she looked up at you. “What if we do some stretching together? I know it’s not the same, but at least you’ll be moving your body.”

She thought about it and then nodded, a small smile on her face. “Does that mean you’ll wear those leggings that make your bum look great?”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I can do, if you want.”

“Yes please,” she said with a grin, and then quickly pouted. “I’m sick, remember? It would help make me feel better.”

“I was going to wear them anyway, you don’t have to play the sick card,” you laughed, getting up to go and get changed. 

You kept the stretching session relatively easy, not wanting to push Lessi’s body further than necessary, especially when she really should have been resting. You could understand her restlessness though, you felt the same when you were sick. Afterwards, she leant over to give you a kiss, resting her forehead against yours. 

“Thank you, baby,” she said softly. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“Anything for you, my love,” you replied, your heart full. 

The two of you spent the rest of the evening watching a film and cuddling, before heading to bed early, ignoring your girlfriend’s protests that she didn’t need any more rest. It paid off, however, when the next day she woke up and declared that she felt well enough to come back to training with you. 

Being worried for her health, you tried to convince her to spend one last day at home. She kept you distracted with kisses and wandering hands until you realised that you had to get ready and leave now, otherwise you were going to be late. You didn’t have enough time to debate with her whether she should stay home or not anymore, so you gave up, making sure that she was bundled up in multiple layers so that if she was going to insist on going to training, at least her cold wouldn’t get any worse.

When you arrived at training, your teammates teased you for not having your girlfriend under control. 

“Don’t blame her,” Lessi said with a grin and a wink. “I can be very convincing when I want to be.”

The team doctor was not impressed by her return, but begrudgingly agreed that she did seem healthy enough to participate in the morning gym session, and that they would see how she felt at lunch before deciding whether she was cleared for training on the pitch in the afternoon. You couldn’t help but smile at the look of relief on the blonde’s face as she entered the gym. 

You were at the far end of the large hall, in the weight area, when you heard some coughing from the treadmills at the other end of the gym. You waited a beat, seeing whether the coughing would let up, but when it got worse you dropped the weights you were holding and rushed over. 

Lessi was doubled over next to one of the treadmills, Kyra stood next to her with a hand on her back. You bent down beside her, rubbing her back gently, offering her a water bottle, but she was coughing too hard to take a sip. 

“Shit, Ky, can you get the doctor?” you asked anxiously as your girlfriend stopped coughing long enough to take a quick breath but immediately started again. The Australian nodded before running out of the gym, returning a minute later with the team doctor. Lessi was still coughing, but not quite as badly as she had been. 

“Right Alessia, I need you to try and take some deep breaths for me, okay?” the doctor said, placing a stethoscope against the blonde’s back. She nodded, trying to take a breath between coughs. “I’m just going to take a quick listen.”

You rubbed a thumb against the back of your girlfriend’s hand as the coughs subsided and she was able to breathe again, face pink from exertion. After a couple of breaths, the doctor removed the stethoscope and stepped back in front of her. 

“It doesn’t sound too bad, but I’d like you to stop training for today, and take tomorrow off as well. And I’ll talk to Jonas about the game on Sunday, but you definitely shouldn’t be starting. Have you been drinking enough? Not just water, you need hot drinks as well. Cough drops couldn’t hurt either,” she said, and you watched Lessi’s face fall. 

“Okay,” she said miserably. “But I can play on Sunday?”

“Come and see me on Sunday morning, and if you’re healthy, I’ll tell Jonas that my recommendation is that you can play as a sub, alright?”

The blonde nodded, chewing at her lip. After the doctor left, you pulled her into a tight hug. 

“Can we go somewhere else?” she asked. You nodded, leading her into an empty  equipment room nearby. Once the door was closed, she let her body sag and her face fall into her hands. “I just feel so stupid. I shouldn’t have pushed, I shouldn’t have tried to go for that run yesterday, I should have stayed home today, I just-”

“Oh, baby,” you said, quickly pulling her into another tight hug. You stayed like that for a minute until you felt her body soften against yours, her arms wrapped around you. “You’re not stupid. Anyone else probably would have done the same.”

Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door. It opened quietly to reveal Leah, poking her head through.

“Less, you okay?” she asked, a concerned look on her face.

Your girlfriend shrugged, then nodded. Leah raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Fine,” Lessi slumped down. “I’m still poorly, I guess.”

Leah sighed. “You have to take care of yourself,” she started. Her voice was stern, but kind, and when your girlfriend’s lower lip started to wobble and tears filled her eyes, the England captain pulled her into a tight hug. “I know you wanted to come back, but it’s important for you and for the team that you’re in full health. And it’ll be even longer until you’re back to full health if you push yourself too hard. Believe me, I know how hard it is. So, y/n is going to take you home, okay? We’re mostly done with training for today, so neither of you will miss too much.”

Lessi sniffed and nodded, wiping a tear away. “Okay, Lee. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Less,” Leah said, her eyes kind. She turned to you. “That okay with you, y/n?”

“Sure,” you nodded, taking your girlfriend’s hand. “Come on, trouble. Let’s get you home.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

how are you even alive?

for @steddielovemonth prompt ‘love is watching them do stupid things’

rated t | 1,351 words | cw: minor injury, suggestive language | tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, the hurt is Steve being stubborn, the comfort is Eddie loving him even though he should accept help

♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️

Twice a year, Steve deep cleaned the house.

Eddie had never witnessed anything like it before.

It’s not that he and Wayne were slobs, but they just did what was necessary, never spending an entire week going over a checklist a mile long to cover every inch of their house.

Steve did.

He said that when he was young, his parents hired people to do it and he was always fascinated with the way the house smelled so fresh for weeks after. He loved watching something go from dusty to shiny, loved seeing the way the windows glistened without any fingerprints from him.

And as he got older, his parents stopped hiring people and just expected it to get done, so he did. And he loved it.

Eddie couldn’t understand it, but he did love the way Steve’s eyes lit up when they got to his cleaning weeks in March and September. He’d plan it all out on a notepad by room, made a list of cleaning supplies he needed, and put stars next to things Eddie would have to help him with.

There were few stars, thankfully.

Eddie didn’t really mind helping. It was his home, too, and any time spent with Steve was time well spent. But the bleach sometimes bothered his sinuses and he’d end up coughing and sneezing for two days after.

He checked the lists now and noticed his name was only on three things:

Flip mattresses

Gutter cleaning (hold ladder and refill pressure washer)

Bookshelves (remove all books, dust, put books back)

He fist pumped once at the realization that he got off easy this time, much easier than he’d been expecting.

Actually, he almost always was enlisted to help with holding the ladder when Steve dusted the-

A bang interrupted his thoughts and he ran without even thinking what it could be.

He walked into the kitchen to see Steve on their ladder, some kind of homemade cleaning solution in a spray bottle in one hand and a washcloth in the other.

“What was that noise?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Steve reach as far as he could without falling off the ladder. He’d probably land on his feet from that height and be fine, but it wouldn’t exactly feel great.

“Dropped the other bottle I had hanging on my belt. It’s fine, just furniture polish. I can get it when I’m done dusting,” Steve was busy, barely even glanced back at Eddie as he answered.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed a supervisor?” Eddie found the furniture polish and set it on the counter, watching as Steve furiously rubbed at the top of the cabinets.

“I don’t. But gutter cleaning is tomorrow and I’ll need one then.”

“Steve…”

“Don’t Steve me. I’m fine! I’m already halfway done.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped away, not wanting to argue with Steve when he was at his happiest.

“Can you put the radio on please, baby? I forgot to before I climbed up here.”

Eddie went over to the radio on the kitchen table and turned it on, surprised to find it tuned to the rock station instead of the hits station.

“Well color me shocked! Were you listening to,” he gasped and held his chest. “Rock?”

“Yes, I was. But if you’re gonna make a big deal about it then change it to the hits,” Steves eye roll was almost audible.

“No, no. Let’s listen to Def Leppard, sweetheart. It’s been my dream for one whole minute to check out your ass while listening to Pour Some Sugar On Me.”

Steve snorted, but continued his work.

Eddie continued watching.

And then Steve wobbled a little. He caught himself, but Eddie stood up straighter.

He wobbles more and Eddie started to move towards the ladder to hold it steady.

But it was too late.

Steve was already falling.

He landed on his ass with a yelp and a groan, the washcloth and bottle flying across the floor.

“Shit, Stevie, you okay?” Eddie crouched down next to him, hands cupping his cheeks as he looked him over.

“Yeah. Just twisted my ankle a little when I tried to catch myself,” Steve gestured down at his ankle. “Might need to ice it before I clean more.”

“Maybe you should rest so it doesn’t swell.” Eddie rolled the sweatpants he was wearing up and saw the way it was already swelling. “Okay, you have no choice but to rest since it’s swelling.”

“Fuck me.”

“I can do that after we ice it,” Eddie said as he gently moved his ankle left and right to see if it was broken.

Steve snorted. “Of course this would happen the first day of my spring cleaning.”

“Maybe if you’d let me supervise earlier…”

“I never lose my balance on the ladder! I thought I’d be fine.”

“Steve, you remember how last year when you were cleaning the pool you insisted the water wouldn’t overfill because of the filters?” Eddie smirked. “And then 6 hours later we were trying to rescue your pool chairs from floating away?”

“That isn’t the same!”

“And then when we first moved in and you insisted you could paint the ceiling yourself and you insisted on handpainting instead of a roller because it wouldn't be even to you and then you dripped paint everywhere and we had to get new carpet? Remember how you ended up breaking your finger because you insisted on rolling the carpet yourself?"

"Okay, that was just bad luck."

"And when you put out the Christmas decorations last year while I was helping Wayne with his truck and I came home to you stuck on the roof?"

"Listen, I am almost 100% sure one of the neighbor kids knocked the ladder over. There was no other way!"

Eddie kissed Steve's forehead. "I'm not sure how you're even alive. You're asking for an accident to happen."

"Weren't you supposed to be getting me ice?" Steve pouted.

Eddie leaned in and nipped at his bottom lip. "You want help getting to the couch first?"

"Nope. It's cleaning week. 20 minutes with an ice pack and then I'm back to dusting."

Eddie shook his head. "You're ridiculous. We'll ice it for 20 and then you're gonna rest for at least an hour so we know if we need to wrap it and keep weight off of it."

"I'm fine, Eds."

"Humor me, sweetheart."

It's a damn good thing Steve did because an hour and a half later, they were on their way to the emergency room for x-rays.

As the doctor told them both that Steve seemed to have fractured a small bone in his ankle, Eddie did his best not to look too smug.

"It won't require a cast or boot, but I do recommend ice every couple of hours and staying off of it as much as possible for the next week or so. If anything starts to hurt worse, come back for a boot."

"Thanks, doc." Eddie waited until the doctor left the room to turn to Steve. "How about next time you want to dust above the fridge and the top of the cabinets, you let me be there to catch you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine."

Eddie kissed his lips softly, barely brushed them just in case someone decided to walk in again. "You want me to stop on the way home to get some more pain meds?"

"Please."

"You hurtin'?"

"A little."

"You want me to take your mind off it?" Eddie wiggled his brows suggestively. "I can keep your ankle elevated, even."

"We'll see when we get home. But you know what?"

"What?"

"Someone has to do the cleaning, baby. Since I can't, looks like you've got a checklist to get to."

"Or we could just put off the cleaning until your ankle heals."

Steve shook his head. "No, I think you can handle it. I'll supervise."

"You're lucky you're so pretty," Eddie groaned.

"Don't forget I'm also very good at sucking your-"

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. Let's go before you get us discriminated against."

[s-sugustar]

1-800-SUGAR!

synopsis : after an injury caused him to retire at an early age, aizawa has a lot of money in his bank account that was hardly ever used in his prime time; so why not splurge it on someone else?

pairings: yandere sugardaddy!aizawa x black!fem!reader

content warning : nothing yet.

word count : 2.2k

It has been a few months since Aizawa was no longer a hero. After the fight with Shigaraki, the sleep deprived man had no choice but to sever his leg from the rest of his body in order to stop the decay from spreading. Although immobilizing him to an extent, Aizawa still had the perks of being a UA teacher to his students.

Instead of fighting crime late at night into the wee hours of the morning, Aizawa finds himself catching on things he hadn't been able to do or complete for some time. This included reading literature, taking care of his plants and gaining much more rest than he had before.

It felt refreshing, he felt renewed but a small flicker of want called out to him. Of course, Aizawa had no idea what it could possibly be. Aizawa felt hopeless, like nothing could fill this growing void that garbled inside of him. It wasn't until one day that Hisashi, Aizawa's closest friend figured out what has made him so drained.

It was a night out for both Aizawa and Yamada; a bit unfortunate that Midnight wasn't able to attend due to a last-minute mission that required her assistance. Instead of crying over one less friend, they both decided to head out to a bar nearby. As the two settled down and ordered drinks, Hisashi started off the conversation. Gleefully updating Aizawa on the outer world things since Aizawa chose to move away from the world heroics and politics.

“So what have you been up to since you have all this time in the world now?” Haisahi questined, his drink in one hand and his chin laid flat on his open palm facing toward Aizawa. The man in question huffed, downing the cup of whiskey he had ordered earlier. “Not much. Other than school and reading a few literature books here and there.” Hisashi raised an eyebrow which caused the raven haired man to sigh in annoyance. “No Hisashi, there’s no ‘special person’ in my life.” Shouta commented, earning a dramatic groan from the blond next time.

After Aizawa left the heroic life, Hisashi pestered the man to find something that would take up most of his time, rather than sleep, working out and reading books. More so, Hisashi hinted at him getting into a relationship, but Aizawa quickly shot down the idea; claiming that him getting into a relationship of some sorts wouldn’t help him in any form or fashion so Hisashi pestered on. Aizawa never really had any love life as others would call it; in all honesty, he wasn;t interested in such trivial things.

A friendship seemed as pleasant as a relationship so what’s the big idea about a relationship? Was it the status, the wants and needs of being held? Aizawa never focused too long on such things, they were always on the back burner for him.

“I know you said you didn’t want a relationship of some sorts but have you tired being a sugar daddy?” Hisashi asked, a malicious smile on his face when he saw the way Aizawa’s eyes widen before coughing up the drink he had just downed. The poor man barely caught his breath before sneering at Hisashi, who seemed to have a blast at his misfortune. “Why is that even an idea for me? “ Aizawa asked, not bothering to stress of hte reason Hisashi thoughts this was a good idea in the first place.

“Oh come on, I mean, it isn’t a relationship as you said you had no interest in but you know, you have allllll that money sitting peacefully in your bank account and with me knowing the type of person you are, you won’t spend a red cent unless it is absolutely necessary for you to. So why not give the sugar daddy thing a try. Just for one week. If you don’t like it then we can totally stop whenever you are ready.” Hisashi voiced, giving Aizawa the option to opt out if he isn’t feeling it.”

With many thoughts running through his head , Aizawa stared at the empty glass in his hand before quietly answering, “I’ll think about it.” Hisashi squealed in delight, causing some of the others in the bar to look at him for a brief moment before turning back to whatever they were doing.

The alarm from your phone went off around 6:30 a.m. causing you to groan. The yawn that fell from your lips was a testament to how tired you were from your last shift. You stretched your limbs before moving from your position in your bed. After fixing your bed, you made your way over to your closet, pulling out your uniform from inside. The cold shower washed off any remaining tiredness that was in your body, soothing your skin and pushing your mind into a work state.

After locking your door, you made your way out of the apartment and onto the street, quickly checking your watch to see that you only had half an hour to get to work. ‘Shit.’ you thought, you ran over down to the metro station which was only a couple minutes away from your home. Hopping on, you placed your headphones into your ears, shuffling your playlist as you were on your way to work.

Upon entering, you quickly went over to your locker, the small tabby cat sticker that you had placed on it when you first came to work there. After pushing your bag into your locker, you quickly grabbed your apron before heading over to the cashier to start your day. You worked in a pastry shop as a source of retaining money. You first started it off as a way to pay off your student debt, but after a while and a bit of saving, you were able to move out and move into your own space.

Now it wasn’t massive or anything, but it was good enough for you to reside in. As you greeted customers with a smile and cashed in their orders. When it was close to your lunch hour, you exchanged with your other co-worker. After taking off your apron , you clocked out before grabbing your phone and heading down to a cafe nearby. As silly as it sounds, there was a small cafe nearby that you normally venture to during your lunch break. It was a small cute cat cafe that you heard about from some people back at where you worked.

You were cashing out an order when you heard Maxi, a chubby girl, who;s entire aesthetic was surrounded by barbie and white lace was gushing to her girlfriend Ana, who had been the complete opposite to Maxi; arm tattoos, piercings almost everywhere and bubble-pink hair. Without noticing, you tuned into their conversation. “Come on Ana, it’s super duper cute and they have cute cats there too. And I know how much you adore cats. It’s called Cat’s Haven you know, the people that own it, bring in rescued cats and give them a place to live.”

You zoned out after hearing about the cats, focusing on the customer that was in front of you. When it was time for your lunch hour, you handed over before going over to Maxi who was rolling the dough. “Hey Maxi, I uh, overheard you this morning talking about the new cat cafe that opened recently, I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation I just -”, you were interrupted when Maxi shook her head at you before answering. “Oh, no worries. I kind of figured you would tune in since I do recall you telling me that you love cats.” She gushed, handing over the rolled dough to her girlfriend before facing you.

“You remember where the old flower shop that Ms.Hatti once had?”, you nodded your head in agreement, remembering the times when you would go over there after you finished work and bought daisies for your mother on your way to home. A bittersweet memory when you think about it; mainly because your mother hadn’t been interested in much of anything pertaining to you during that time, even up until now. Ridding yourself of those negative emotions, you zoned in on what Maxi was saying, pushing away those negative thoughts that tried to force themselves inside the centre of your present state. After you were given directions, you thanked Maxi before heading out to the cafe.

Outside was a bit warmer than you had expected, so you pulled off your cardigan and wrapped it aroumd your waist, tying the sleeves to the front so that it wouldn’t fall. Once you got closer to the cafe, you could hear the slight buzz and chatter from those who were nearby. The feeling surrounding the cafe was that of newness and solitude.

As you entered the cafe, the bell jingled once you opened the door, alerting customers as well as workers. A comfortable buzz fell through the air as you entered, small meows and soft purrs filled the air . You looked around at the variety of cats that were all over the cafe. Small and big, different types varying from american bobtail to balinese.

Your heart warmed at the sight before spotting a lone maine coon resting near on a table near the back of the cafe; an empty booth where the lone cat rested. You were close to approaching when one of the waitresses stopped you. “ I know where you are going and i would advise you not to, “ she paused before continuing, “ that particular cat isn’t one we let customers interact with because of previous incidents. She’s known to be aggressive towards customers. Unfortunately, we can’t giver her back to the shelter so we just advise customers to steer clear from her.” You nodded in agreement, taking in the lady’s words but still hell bent on going after her. You thanked the waitress before walking over to the same table that you were warned of.

You slowed your actions, making sure not to startle the cat. Once you sat down, it seems that the cat that laid before you noticed your presence; so in return, she sat up and hissed in your direction, probably hoping that you would leave her alone, but you stayed. With a bright smile on your face, you pulled out a few treats from the little cat bag you were given when you entered.

Placing a small treat on the table for the orange cat, not bothering to annoy her. You stayed silent as the cat whose name you learned was Cinnamon, stared you down for while before slowly moving to the treat you had placed on the table. “Atta girl.” you whispered, silently placing down another treat for her to pick up. Many customers watched in awe and adoration of how you handled the cat.

As she ate, you watched in silence, barely resisting the urge to pet her. In a calm and cool environment, both you and the cat sat in silence, not bothering to intrude on one another’s presence but merely enjoying the low noise with hardly any interaction; other than you slowly feeding her treats, time and time again.

It was couple minutes before your lunch time was up so you decided to finish your treat before giving Cinnamon the rest of her treats before getting up to leave. Once you stood, you gathered all that had been yours and started towards the door.

Before you could leave, you were stopped by the same waitress who had warned you earlier. In awe and amazement at how easily you handled the fiesty cat, she gave you a warm smile, almost begging you to come back more oftern and tame the said cat.

“You must be some sort of cat whisperer,” she started, “I’ve never seen someone tame that cat as how you did, even more so stand aroundher for so long.” she mentioned, looking back at the said cat who rested quietly on the table, looking through the window at the birds outside. You giggled at the compliment before shaking your head. “I’m no cat whisperer, I’ve just had experience with cats like her before.” you smiled before making your way theough the door back to your job.

Now weeks after, going to the cat cafe had been a routine for you, once your lunch started, you quickly took off your apron and made a bee line straight to the cafe, only sitting wherever Cinnamon had been. You weren’t the only one who the cat had tolerated. Apparently, there was some other person who was able to do just as you did with the cat. Were you jealous, somewhat; since you did want that particular cat all to yourself but you didn’t catch a hissy fit over such things.

As you sat quietly in the booth, patiently waiting on your order, you watched as Cinnamon pushed her head against the palm of your hand, you chuckled before combing your hands through her fur, sighing at the vibrations her fluffy body made.

You really weren’t paying attention to your surroundings when it came to other people; you were a bit too engrossed by the fluffball in front of you. “So you’re the other ‘cat whisperer’ I’ve heard others talking about.”

A/n: it’s been awhile. Not as good but i’m getting back there.

[louisisalarrie]

heyy, what relationship do you think louis has with F? I know you don't believe that's his son, but personally I have many doubts on the whole thing and one of the main reasons is that i think he genuinely cares about him. I mean the way he talks about him and everything, and i dont mean interviews only, for example that time after a show when he met a little fan and he asked them how old they were and then he said something like "my little F is 7", he just said that bc he wanted to, so why would he do if he doesn't care about him? and I'm not saying that proofs that's his son, I'm just asking bc most larries that I see they claim that lou doesn't give a fuck about F, but I think he really does

hello lovely! if you are having doubts and want more info, check out this tags page that has a heap of bbg content from over the years that may help you make your mind up. and thank you for being respectful of what I believe even if you’re not sure 100% where you stand on it. so thank you and great to have you here!

I’ve touched on something similar to this before, in which, we know how much louis loves kids. him and his little sisters and bro, young fans, his sisters’ kids etc. like every situation we see him with a kid in, he lights up. same with Harry

anyway, I think bbg got out of hand and when it became far more long term and he had to be pictured with this child, he probably felt very frustrated and shitty that it got this far. He probably feels bad for the kid that his family got him involved in this, and now this kid won’t ever have a normal life. and so, he’s hung out with this kid every once in a while, watching him grow up, and I can imagine he probably does care about him a lot. He’s a very caring guy in general, and so under the circumstances, he’s trying to make this work the best he can.

He’s not gonna sit there and be like “gross kid get tf away from me” lol, but he’s balancing this distance of not being too close to become such a permanent fixture in his life, and not hurting this kid’s feelings. Again, it’s hard to know what F believes as he’s only like 8 or so, so I’m not sure how much they’ve divulged with him, but I’m pretty positive he’d know louis isn’t his dad by now tbh. but louis probably just feels shitty and wants to at least have the kid spend time having fun with him, rather than miserable for a life he didn’t choose.

Re your comment about him talking about F to the fans… in my opinion, bbg is now at the level of pretty much a strictly fan service stunt, and has been for a while now. we get the little gap filler articles from bored journalists like “all about louis tomlinson’s son!” etc. every once in a while, but otherwise it’s not really gaining him much publicity these days. he’ll mention him when he does those random Twitter chats, interviews here and there, and we get our annual Christmas photo (nothing for Father’s Day this year tho cough cough), but the GP don’t… care about it. But we as fans who follow his sisters’ accounts and are more invested, bbg is brought up for us. So because it’s not shoved in our faces from the press all the time, it’s easier to keep going with it by doing a mention about it here and there.

they still have this stunt as a bombshell to drop when necessary, though. Louis could gain some mad publicity with the end of it and still come out looking good, so it’s kinda just there until they find a suitable time for it to drop, which I have a feeling will be soon since it is so fan focused now.

lining up the end of stunts with releases/other big press news etc. is also quite tricky. this one has to be delicate because it’s got a kid involved, too.

[moon-witchs-world]

Growing Pains - Remus J. Lupin Part Three

Growing Pains – part three

A Hogwarts Tale

Remus Lupin x Fem!WitchReader

1,7k words

This is part three of a multiple part series. You can find part one here and part two here

Masterlist

The full moon came and went and just like that, you hoped everything would be normal again. That Remus would feel like himself again and that his anxious mood would have lifted. You barely slept the night of the full moon. You knew there wasn’t anything you could do for Remus, but still you couldn’t relax.

Eventually, after spending most of the night tossing and turning, you woke up from a short but intense nightmare at 5:00am and decided to just get up. You took a quick shower and got dressed. You had never been a morning person, but there wasn’t a chance you would get any more sleep. Maybe Remus had already returned to the castle after his transformation and wanted to talk to someone. 

And so you started to walk to his office on the second floor. But before you even arrived at the staircase, you heard someone behind you cough. When you turned around you saw Albus Dumbledore with a smile on his face. 

‘Y/N? What a happy coincidence to meet you here. I was just on my way to see you. Excuse my early visit, I hope it’s not a problem.’

‘Of course, headmaster, is there anything I can do for you?’ you asked him. 

‘No, not for me per se. But I wanted to ask you to perform a couple of healing spells on someone,’ he explained vaguely. 

‘Of course, headmaster,’ you replied. When you worked for the department of Magical accidents and catastrophes you had to deal with lots of magical injuries and you had perfected your healing spells over the years. 

‘I expected nothing less. Would you please accompany me to the second floor?’ he asked and you nodded. 

You walked with professor Dumbledore and hoped he would explain the situation on your way to the second floor, but when he didn’t you couldn’t help yourself but ask about it.

‘If you don’t mind me asking, professor, why do you need me for healing spells? I think Poppy is way more skilled in such spells.’ Professor Dumbledore grinned when you mentioned the name of the school's matron.

‘You’re very modest, Y/N.From what I heard you have a real talent for healing. Isn’t it correct that the head Healer at St. Mungo’s offered you a job twice?’ 

You blushed. You had no idea how professor Dumbledore even knew about this, but the Healer in charge of the magical hospital had contacted you several times over the years to offer you a job as a Healer for the department of spell damage. You had liked your job at the ministry too much to leave. 

‘Yes, that’s  true. But still. Poppy tends to sick and injured students every day. I can hardly imagine my spell work is better than hers,’ you said quietly. 

'I need you because the issue at hand is delicate. I rather not inform more people than absolutely necessary,' he simply said. You walked besides professor Dumbledore in silence until you arrived at a door you recognized all too well. It was this door you always passed with a racing heart. Remus' office. The headmaster stopped walking and knocked on the door. 

When the door opened you felt your heart sink. The man who appeared in the doorway looked terrible. His green eyes were bloodshot, his hair was messy and dirty and there were bloodstains on his clothes. 

'Albus, I thought you would bring Poppy,' Remus said and he worked very hard to avoid eye contact with you. 

'Forgive me, Remus, for not being clear, but I don’t want Poppy involved. I don't want too many people to know about your condition. Y/N is very capable of healing you. If you don't mind, I'll leave you to it, I'm afraid my presence is needed elsewhere,’ the headmaster said and with that, he left. 

Now that it was just the two of you, standing opposite each other, Remus looked at you. It was obvious he felt uncomfortable, embarrassed even. 

'You don't have to do this, Y/N. I never asked Dumbledore to fetch you. He just said he would get someone to heal my wounds,’ Remus mumbled. 

'It’s okay, Remus, I can help. Can I come in? I don't think it's a good idea to keep standing here in the hallway. Someone might see us.' You meant him, because he was the one covered in blood, but you thought it best not to say that out loud. 

'I think I'll just clean up a bit and I'll be fine, I'll see you later,’ Remus answered.

'Not going to happen, Remus. That cut under your collarbone looks quite deep. It'll just take me a minute to heal it,' you pressed on. He sighed, then moved away a tiny bit and you were able to get into his office. 

'Please sit down and would you mind…' your shyness got the better of you and you felt your cheeks burning.

‘What is it?’ he asked after he sat down behind his desk. 

'Would you mind taking off your shirt? I need to see the wound,' you explained. You looked into his eyes and then let your gaze travel over the rest of his body. He was hurt. Dirty. Covered in mud and half dried blood and Merlin knows what else but still you were so deeply attracted to him you had a hard time focusing on what you had to do. Remus didn't reply but took his shirt off. He flinched when the fabric touched the wound. 

You pointed your wand at the wound and muttered the spells under your breath. The wound closed quickly, like the skin melted back together. Another spell wiped the blood away. 

'Good as new,' you said with a weak smile when you were done and you put your wand away. 

'Why did Dumbledore send you? He could have done this himself, right?' Remus asked when you were finished. You were hyper aware of the fact that he was still shirtless so you averted your gaze. 

'Maybe he was busy,' you said, but you weren't convinced. Professor Dumbledore would have been able to heal the wounds as well, he had to have a different motive. 

 'Or he thought you would appreciate the company. Make you feel less alone. He knows we were in the same year at Hogwarts. Maybe he thinks we’re friends,' you stopped talking when you noticed you were rambling.

‘I’ve been transforming once a month ever since I was a kid. I don’t need you to look after me, I’m perfectly capable of being on my own, I’ve always been alone during this time,’ was his snapped response. 

‘That’s not true.’ It seemed weird to contradict him. Out of bounds, but you did it anyway. He looked at you puzzled. 

‘Excuse me?’

‘Well, in the past you always had your friends to support you, right? I could be your friend now,’ you heard yourself say. You hated the word friend in this context because you longed to be more than just a friend, but you didn't say that. 

‘I’ve grown up, Y/N. I can handle it by myself without dragging innocent people into dangerous situations.’ 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Remus’ stormy mood was getting on your nerves. You were trying so hard to stay calm, but enough was enough.

‘Okay. Fine. Spend the most difficult time of your life alone then. Wallow in your misery. I’m tired of trying to help you, Remus. I’ve been nothing but kind to you and you keep pushing me away. I’m over it.’ And without another word, you stormed out of his office, leaving him by himself.  

~~**~~

That afternoon when you had some time to kill before your last lesson of the day, you went to the staff room. It was deserted and you chose a spot in front of the fireplace. When you just opened the book you had been reading, Minerva McGonagall entered the room. When she saw you, she walked over and sat down next to you. 

'Hi Minnie, how are you?' you asked friendly. Over the last couple of weeks you and Minerva had grown a bit closer. You really liked her company and enjoyed talking about all different kinds of subjects. Minerva’s intelligence impressed you and you wondered sometimes why the Sorting Hat didn’t put her in Ravenclaw. 

'Are you okay? What's bothering you, Y/N?’ Minerva asked, ignoring your question. She looked at you from over her glasses.

'Nothing, Minnie,’ you answered quickly. Too quickly because when you heard the words leave your mouth, you didn’t even believe them yourself. 

'I can tell there’s something going on. And you didn’t show up for breakfast today. Or lunch. You can tell me what’s wrong,’ she said sternly, but there was kindness in her eyes.  

'I’m worried about Remus. I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to help him, but he kept pushing me away and this morning we had an argument. Now I feel bad,’ you explained quickly. 

'I think Remus fancies you,’ she stated in response. 

‘Minnie, what are you talking about? I just explained to you how he keeps pushing me away. He doesn’t fancy me, he probably thinks I’m annoying.’

But Minerva simply shook her head. 

‘He doesn’t want you to get close to him because he’s afraid to hurt you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching, Y/N. I’d bet the Quidditch cup on it he fancies you. And you know how serious I am about Quidditch.’ 

You started laughing. Before either of you could say anything else, your attention was drawn to the door because you heard someone enter. Your laugh died on your lips when you saw it was Remus. You really hoped he didn't hear what you and Minerva had been talking about. You expected him to leave at the mere sight of you, but he walked to you with purpose in his step.

‘Hey Y/N. If Minnie doesn’t mind, would you like to take a walk with me?’ Remus asked softly. He looked at you with a pleading look in his eyes and you found yourself on your feet in no time. 

‘No problem at all,’ Minerva answered with a knowing smile. 

‘After you,’ Remus said gallantly and you felt his eyes burn on you when you walked out of the staff room.

@turvi <3

[eye-of-yelough]

Ask gaaaaame Desire failure fear for aeryn

wowie this is so many okay

What’s one thing your oc wants more than anything in the world?

To be good and feel good at the same time. Hedonist with a praise kink fr. Unfortunately it’s… pretty impossible for him to get both as a Bhaalspawn. It’s partially why he’s so easy to manipulate by uh. cough. awful people. you can convince him to do any amount of heinous shit if you can convince him it’s moral. and tell him he’s a good boy after :)

Are they open with that desire? Why or why not?

uhhh definitely Not, i don’t think he even consciously acknowledges it. I think he thinks his greatest desire is to be loved. or normal. or dead. probably dead.

What would they do to fulfil it?

As I said, pretty much anything, except things he deems immoral (that Gortash didn’t deem necessary to convince him wasn’t. For example, he never bothered trying to convince Aeryn that slavery was okay, because he knew it would be both really difficult, and ultimately unnecessary; Aeryn’s repugnance for it never stopped him from always coming back.)

What’s your oc’s greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it?

Answering these two in the same paragraph because “move past it” implies that it was One Event, which isn’t true in his case. Aeryn’s biggest failure is his consistent inability to grow a backbone.

And it eventually kills him, so… yeah he never moves past it :/

Does anyone else know about it?

I’d say it’s fairly obvious to anyone who spends significant time with him. Gortash, Bhaal, Orin, and Sceleritas, for sure. Minthara, maybe Shadowheart. I think the other companions are either not perceptive enough, or too wrapped up in their own shit (said with love)

What is your oc’s greatest fear?

I can’t believe i haven’t thought about this, I have no idea. I guess if we were thinking existential, the idea that his life has all been for nothing. I guess just being a failure in general. He’s really not very ambitious, especially not in comparison to uhhhhh Certain People, but he at least wants to have made a positive impact on the people around him.

What do they do when confronted with it?

He’s been battling it constantly, he never makes good decisions. Not a single W for this freak. So i guess he’s developed something of a thick skin to it. I think his fear response is to puff himself up and act all arrogant and laugh in the face of horror, and then break down when the pressure becomes unbearable or after when he’s had time to process.

Are they open with that fear, or do they hide it away?

I don’t think he makes a conscious effort to hide it, but, again, you really couldn’t tell at first glance considering how often he fails/loses.

i gotta be honest i don’t think i’ve answered these fear questions right at all but. we move. i can’t think of anything better :/

[write-as-reign]

Reign of Fire excluded excerpt:

(CW: Abuse, Death, Cancer, Sobriety)

Leon

A nurse lead the way to the hospital room with Leon following silently. He hated the way that hospitals smelled. When he was younger he’d spent a lot of time in hospitals with fractured bones and bad burns. Once doctors started asking more detailed questions about his injuries, likely suspecting the truth of them, his father had just stopped bringing him.

The papers in his hand rustled. He didn’t want to do this, but it would make things easier, and it would be over soon.

Room 186, on the second floor. The nurse pushed the door open and called out “Mr. Barnes, you have a visitor.”

The man lying on the hospital bed before him was nothing like he’d last remembered. It had been at least fifteen years. He wasn’t terribly old, but he was weak and frail; his skin pale and hair thinning from the chemotherapy. His blue eyes were beginning to cloud and his hand shook as he tried to pull himself upright.

“Junior? Is that really you?”

“Yes, John, it’s me.”

The man began to cough when he tried to laugh, “Please, don’t call me that. I’m your dad, aren’t I?”

“It’s a stretch,” Leon replied curtly. He pulled the meal tray closer to his father and put the papers down onto it. Across the room on the desk there was a pen, so he went to retrieve it.

“I’m your next of kin,” Leon continued. “If you sign these papers it will make all of your end of life arrangements easier for me.”

“Are you in a hurry?”

“To be rid of you? Forgive me if I say ‘yes’.” When the older man didn’t reply he continued, “I always told you you’d get cancer, being the fucking chimney you were. I must be a fortune teller.

“If I take my shirt off we can probably estimate how many cigarettes you’ve smoked.” He used the pen to circle one of the many round, white scars that covered his arms. “One.”

“You probably hoped that I would,” John grumbled.

“So I’m magic. Too bad it took 30 fucking years to work.”

“I saw Cala on TV,” John said, changing the subject. I had to ask the nurse who she was. Countess of Paratia! My daughter?” Leon could have slapped the pride off of his father’s face. “It’s been years since I saw her. I’m going to be a grandpa. Tell me about her.”

Leon felt his lip curl in disgust at the request. “Just sign the papers and I’ll be on my way.”

The familiar glare took its place on his father’s face. It was an expression that had scared Leon as a little boy, but only infuriated him now. “If you want those papers signed you can do me the courtesy to tell me about you and your sister.”

Leon pulled a chair up, slamming it down hard onto the tiles and took a seat to keep himself from killing the bastard himself. “You want to know about Cala? You want to know how she’s been since she escaped you?” His father rolled his pale eyes and Leon ground his teeth.

“She’s been wonderful. She was a soldier, and now is a very successful designer and coordinator. She’s beautiful, kind, funny, strong, and brave; everything you aren’t, and so is her husband.

“As for me? I’ve been sober for a decade, I live in a palace, and I’m as rich a man as I could ever hope to be because I finally have a family.

“Now, sign these fucking papers or I’ll throw your ashes in a dog waste bin.”

The hurt was clear on John’s face, but Leon didn’t care in the slightest.

“Will you tell Cala’s baby about me?” His father still hadn’t taken the papers.

“Absolutely not. I suggest you spend your final hours talking about yourself, because once you’re gone no one else will.”

He thrust the pen into his father’s weak hand, squeezing harder than was necessary. “This is your last chance to sign. This is your last chance to have a say in what happens to your stinking corpse and worldly possessions.

“Otherwise I’m selling everything and you can be buried in the hospital cemetery.”

“You know I want to be buried with Samantha. Your mother,” he emphasised. It was the first time he’d ever called her that.

Leon raised his hand to strike the older man but stopped himself. As deserving as the snake was he wasn’t worth assault charges. He was satisfied to see his father flinch, though. “If she were here to see what kind of fucking man you are, what kind of piss poor ‘father’ you were, she’d never let you be buried with her.”

John didn’t reply. He lowered his gaze and shook his head before placing the pen down on the tray. “I won’t sign.”

Leon shrugged. “It’s up to you.” He lowered his voice threateningly, “Tell the hospital to lose my number. I don’t want so much as a text when you finally kick the bucket.

“As far as Cala and I are concerned, you’ve been dead a long time.” He turned on his heel and marched quickly from the room, ignoring his father calling after him.

He hated the man. He’d always hated him, and had every reason to. He wouldn’t cry over him, fuck, he’d probably celebrate, but his heart ached a little as he hurried down the too bright halls, desperate to be out.

[ohmypreciousgirl]

OffGun Rec List

A rec list with my favorite OffGun fics for my sweetheart who asked for good fics ♥

I nearly lost you 67,904 [Note: it might be marked as WIP, but the OffGun part is finished] Gun is not right there when it happens. He just turned away from Off for a few seconds and the next time he sees him, he is bleeding out on the floor. Someone shot him right there in public. What follows is a long painful journey for both of them. Will it bring them closer together?

Rise Up 29,244 “So?” Off prompted as he leaned forward, way closer than necessary because he had come to love fighting Gun with his own weapons – teasing and flirting.

But Gun, still a little wide-eyed, kept his lips shut, his phone now pressed tightly to his chest with the display towards himself.

Unperturbed, Off pressed him further. “Why are you so secretive now? What was it about?”

Getting Together 'verse 8,160 A sweet and lazy morning that changes some things in their relationship.

what's the problem, baby? 6,717 Gun just realized that Papii was feeling lonely and that he has to do something about it.

maybe someday 3,605 It's a beautiful and fun ceremony, and Off is really happy for their friends, but he can't help his mind from imagining him and Gun doing the same thing one day.

The Panty Bag Curse 8,551 It all started with a shopping bag. A bag that’s now cursed him in the worst imaginable ways. There wasn’t anything strange about the bag. In fact, it was so utterly normal that Off didn’t even flinch when Gun Atthaphan handed it to him while they were on a break. He’d taken a swig of water from his bottle, popped open the bag to peer inside, and then he immediately choked on his drink.

“Papii, is everything ok?” Gun screeched, patting his back in a panic.

“Uh…uh,” he failed to respond. He coughed, clearing his throat, and then made the mistake to look down into the bag again and he felt his whole face burn. No, he’d hoped he had imagined the whole thing. But now that he had a second look, there was no mistaking it.

Gun had handed him a bag filled with lacey, silky, frilly panties.

make a wish 7,786 Off’s birthday wish is granted in an unexpected way.

Dick the Halls 2,069 Several drinks later, Off and Gun find themselves inside a closet making out.

Sweat[er] 6,573 Gun decides to deep-clean Off’s closet and finds an abandoned knitted sweater inside. He wants to know about it but after Off’s suspicious reaction they somehow change the subject and suddenly Off’s clothes aren’t the only thing that ends up on Off’s bed.

Tie Me Up 2,808 When Gun had been tied to the bed while filming that one scene as White, the aftereffects had him wanting more. So as soon as he got his boyfriend home, he very much planned on recreating that scene, only this time, he planned to get completely sexed up.

close friends (closer) 502 “Close friends.”

Close friends who spend all their time together, who cling to each other, who follow each other around. Close friends who kiss on foreheads, sure. Cheeks. But on necks and chests.

They’re just…affectionate that way. It’s nothing to be worried over.

Gun is just like that.

AU

i can't hide it when i get close to you 5,347 “Two alphas working together like that,” they say, “does your pride not get in the way of working smoothly?”

“Papii, what do you think?” Gun says, because that’s what he always says when he doesn’t want to answer. He doesn’t want to say anything Off doesn’t feel comfortable letting the public know.

Off takes a moment, just a long, “Errr,” before he puts his words together. It’s an awkward time to be vulnerable in an interview, both of them sprawled on the bed together. Off ends up smiling and looking at the interviewer directly, “Have I ever said I was an alpha?”

pour out all your love (fill me to the top) 10,696 [Note: probably the most unique ABO I've ever read in my life] Gun goes through a difficult process. Luckily, he has Papii to take care of him.

In Defiance of Destiny 16,925 Gun was working 3 jobs to keep his head above water, and just when he thought he was done with the sugaring app where he sent nudes to wealthy men for money, Off Jumpol appeared in his inbox.

Can We Pretend? 21,107 Off and Gun are best friends, but Off loves to introduce the boy as his boyfriend to everyone. Of course, only for shits and giggles. But that is until one day his parents asked him to bring his so-called boyfriend with him to their annual family weekend and he has no other choice but to drag Gun to his elaborate fake plan to please his family.

You Just Know 2,436 Off is here to accompany Tay.

He does have some desire to meet his soulmate tonight, but not so much because he wishes to fill some hole in his life, and more because it would be hilarious if he came here as Tay’s moral support and left with his soulmate while Tay was still without.

COLLECTIONS

OffGun Drabble Collection by rachiepoo

OffGun Monthly Drabbles by Seza94

OffGun Monthly Drabbles and Short Stories by Ilsense

Random OffGun+ Drabbles and Ficlets by allourheroes

OffGun+ Monthly Drabble Collections by allourheroes

OffGun Short Stories Collection by Feyrelynn

Drabbles 2021

Random OffGun Drabbles and Ficlets

OffGun Drabbles April 2022 by dreamerbean

[jojolovenotes]

Hehe me and Butch!Jotaro

#17

Also, cat tax for appreciation

Meet Cutes: 17. being from different schools, they meet at a tournament, trying to win for their own school

Hi there Luna! Tysm for the cat tax, such a precious tax to receive!

Normally you didn’t really enjoy taking part in these school competitions, but they needed an extra person for the debate team and you figured you would help out since one of your friends was part of the team as well. Truthfully you didn’t care much for debating, but you were decent at it when you had to be. You were mostly able to calm your nerves when having to face off against another school, but today you found it to be a bit difficult. There was a student on the other team that you kept exchanging glances with. You were curious to know who this person was but at the same time you felt a bit awkward about approaching them since they were from the opposing school after all… 

Your chance to approach them came when the two of you were both getting some snacks and water from a nourishment table, but even then when you thought you would be confident with a greeting it felt as though your throat suddenly felt too dry for you to speak. There was an attempt to speak up, but it just ended up with you clearing your throat instead and the dryness made you cough - how embarrassing. 

“You OK?” 

It was the handsome student from the other school! You nodded, although now you felt a little embarrassed that they had to see you like this. 

“Are you nervous? Maybe you need some water.” He handed you a bottle of water. 

You took a moment to settle your nerves - you were definitely nervous but it wasn’t because of the competition! Now that your competitor was standing next to you, you noticed how much of a height difference was between you two. It only made them seem even more attractive… ‘Wow’ you thought to yourself, taking in this better view, but you didn’t want to seem so obvious about checking them out! You drank some of the water trying to use this time to figure out what to say next.

“Thanks.” you somehow mustered the courage to say… It was a good thing your classmates weren’t around or else they might make a comment about you talking to the competition for longer than necessary. 

The competitor student nodded in your direction, “I don’t really like these things, they're a pain. I gotta do it for extra credit.” 

“Oh. Yeah. Me too, it’s not really my thing either, but my friend really wanted me to join so…” 

“Guess we have something in common.”

“Yeah… Yeah we do.” for some reason that gave you butterflies! To have something in common with this handsome student was more than enough to give you the encouragement to talk to them more! Who cares if you two didn’t know each other’s names just yet, as long as you could keep a conversation going there would be time for introductions later.

“Hey Jotaro! What are you doing? We’ve gotta get ready!” one of the other students called out to the handsome one… So, Jotaro was his name. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Jotaro seemed to wave his hand dismissively though. “Be there in a minute.” 

The fact he wasn’t in a rush to rejoin his school made you feel good. You wondered if maybe he wanted to spend more time with you, but was that just wishful thinking?

“Hey uh, if you’re still nervous make sure to take some deep breaths. That tends to help me when I feel nervous.” He gave you a small smile. 

“Oh yeah, thank you. I try that but sometimes I’m so nervous I forget how to even focus on doing that.” you admitted sheepishly.

“That’s OK. Just do your best.” Jotaro nodded, giving you a thumbs up for encouragement.

“... You too!” You awkwardly gave him a thumbs up back, but quickly wondered if that was lame or cheesy!

Jotaro smiled again, now getting ready to join his classmates although he did stop in the middle of his tracks and wrote something down on a piece of paper. 

“Uh. If you ever need any tips or something for these debate things you can call me if you want. I guess. It’s ok if you don’t want to… I know we’re from different schools but… Yeah.” he awkwardly handed you the piece of paper before tugging his hat down to cover his eyes, clearly now a bit embarrassed that he gave you his phone number. Now he returned to his classmates walking at a quicker pace than before.

You stood holding the piece of paper making sure to grip it tightly not wanting to lose it! Oh, wow… Did this really just happen? As soon as you got home you were definitely going to give him a call… or would that be too soon? You realized that you forgot to tell him your name! Well, maybe a call later tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all. At least this way you can tell him your name! You made sure to tuck the number away in a safe place now looking forward to the competition to be over - it didn’t matter which team was victorious, you already felt like a winner for getting Jotaro’s number!

[sasha-chambers]

Fear Incarnate: A Jonathan Crane Alternate Universe Story: Part 5

Much like all good experiments, Crane’s next test of his abilities took time to prepare, mainly gathering the necessary fear through numerous minor interactions with those he crossed paths with to gather a larger amount of the yellow fluid he had dubbed Crows Blood and to further increase his own strength. Thankfully, Crane was nothing if not a patient man and was more than willing to spend a measly week preparing himself, practicing his newfound shapeshifting abilities within his dilapidated lair as often as he could, even finding that he was able to produce clothing from an aerosolized version of Crows Blood that his body could produce, practically turning him into a chameleon capable of blending in anywhere he might chose to.

Then, when the weekend finally came, Crane was ready. He loaded up a canister of his freshly collected fear gas into his van and setting out from the abandoned hospital to patrol the streets of gotham. He was hoping to find subjects to utilize in his test, preferable those of the criminal variety. He knew he would have little trouble finding them, he had growl quite adept at smelling fear, even though such a scent saturated the city he called home, he was somewhat able to locate individual sources, even somewhat tell the different kinds of fear apart based on what was causing them. But he was not out tonight to sample the flavors of the city, no, he had work to do. 

His search did not last too long as he came to a sudden stop at the opening to an alley, inhaling deeply the scent that rushing from within its shadows, the scent of one afraid for their life. Crane took a moment to focus himself and changed his form, covering himself in a long, hooded leather coat he created from his body before clutching the canister of fear gas in one hand and stepping out of his vehicle. As he made his way into the darkness of the alley, he spotted the source of the fear that had drawn his attention, a woman cornered against a wall with three assailants taunting her, toying with her. An everyday occurrence as far as gotham was concerned, one that didn’t draw any attention from certain rodents when much bigger concerns were often on their radar.

As Crane approached, one of the thugs alerted his friends to his presence and two of them stepped away from the woman to block his path.

“You might want to turn yourself around there pal, nothing here to concern yourself over,” one of the trio spoke in a gruff tone, a middle aged man with a scar across the bridge of his nose.

“On the contrary, I am exactly where i wish to be,” Crane responded, his voice reverberating within his throat and sounding as if he spoke with multiple voices at once. He then raised his head to meet the thugs eye, causing him to subconsciously take a step back as he laid eyes upon the guise that he had taken. The long coat that he had wrapped around himself was covered in stitching as if it had been cobbled together from numerous scrap pieces of leather, open at the front to show his upper body to be wrapped in grubby bandages all the way up to his neck, any gaps showing grey, burnt looking skin. His hands were similarly bandaged and grey, his fingers long and tipped with curved, black nails while his legs and feet were covered by leather pants and boots. Under the hood that he had pulled up over his head was a gas mask, pale and seemingly made of bone, shaped like a human skull clasping the filters in its teeth with a pale, yellow glow emanating from the black glass set into the eyeholes from his eyes.

“What the hell kind of freak are you?” Without gracing him with an answer, Crane gently placed down the canister he was holding and flicked it open, the contents swiftly spewing out and filling the alley, seemingly doing nothing but earning a cough from the thugs and woman they were threatening. The lead thug opened his mouth to speak once more before stopping, hearing a cracking, tearing noise behind him and a sudden cry of horror from both the woman and one of his friends. He whirled around on his heel in time to see the other of his companions changing, his body twisting, his sliding off of his frame as if he were being boiled, mouth hanging open with teeth stretching into fangs as a gurgling hiss escaped his throat.

The thug was frozen for but a moment before the monster that had once been his friend lunged at him, forcing him to snap out of it, draw a gun from within his coat and shoot the creature, putting several bullets in it in a fear induced panic until it stopped moving. The sounds of the gunshots, the screams of terror from the woman and the panicked jabbering from the third thug rang out across the alley walls. No sooner had the sounds died down did more sounds of terror erupt as the third thug began to tear and pull at his clothes, writhing masses appearing under his skin as he pulled out a blade and began to slash at himself, snakes erupting from the wounds only to turn and bite him as he continued to cut, soon collapsing the the ground in a pool of his own blood.

Now the lead thug was the only one that remained, glancing feverously at Crane, he raised his gun and took a shot at him, only for the bullet to pass through him as if he were made of air, earning an amused chuckle from him that seemed to come from everywhere at once. The thug then tried to run, only to find himself face to face with a solid wall that had not been there before and no matter how hard he banged and pounded against it, he had no other way of escape. Desperate, he finally turned his gun on himself, only to find that he was unable to pull the trigger at all.

“Now I can’t have you doing that,” Crane commented dryly, his tone calm and measured even as his hand snapped up to the thugs neck, his free hand producing a syringe filled with Crows Blood from within his coat, “I require a volunteer you see. You may feel a slight pinch.” Making a gap in his fingers, he slowly and methodically pushed the syringe into the thugs neck, his body seemingly frozen in fear, only able to manage shaking twitches of movement. Once the contents of the syringe were fully injected, Crane released the man and stepped back, allowing him to crumple onto the ground like a sack of meat.

At first it seemed as if nothing would happen, the thug frantically looking himself over as if expecting a similarly horrific fate to befall him as had his friends. It was only after a short moment that he began to clutch at his chest, a yellow color creeping into his veins as his skin greyed, his hair and nails fell from his body and the skin of his face seemed to melt, leaving him with no eyes, mouth, or nose, only the general shape of the skull under the skin. The faceless shape rose to its feet and moved to stand in front of Crane, its bones cracking in protest as if every movement it made was against its own will, its skin shifting and bulging every now and then as if something lurked underneath.

Crane could feel the creatures presence as if it was an extension of himself, it took could sense fear, even now it was drawing in the fear radiating from the woman still curled up against the alley wall and relaying it back to Crane, its mind was worming its way into hers and giving shape to the form of her fear, though it did not act on that shape just yet.

“Go, find those who think themselves the masters of fear and show them the error of their ways.” With Cranes order etched into it’s mind, the creature turned on its heel and began walking to the other end of the alley. Crane allowed the illusion he had created to dissipate, the bodies of the thugs becoming little more than a man who had been shot to death and one who had been cut to ribbons. He then turned to the woman, walking over and sitting on his heels before her, “You have nothing to fear from me.” He continued to speak in his calm tone, seeming to reassure her if only a little as he managed to turn her gaze towards him, “Not now anyway. Unless you become as these men were. But I can tell, you are not that kind of person are you?” The woman shook her head frantically in response, “Good.” He rose to his feet and offered her his hand, pulling her up and dusting her off, straightening her clothes for her, “Make sure people hear of this. I will not rob my prey of a fair warning, though I doubt they will listen to it.” 

“Who are you?” The woman managed to ask hurriedly as Crane turned to leave.

“Someone to truly strike fear into the vultures that pick at the carcass of this city... a scarecrow if you will.”

[jungkxook]

—hot boy bummer. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut  

⟶ words: 14,633

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?

⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink

⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook​ and @onherwings​ for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛

( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )

Being friends with Jungkook meant a myriad of things but mainly that there were hardly ever any boundaries that stood between you and him.

Having known him for most of your life, it was just a quintessential part of yours and his relationship with one another. From high school parties where you drunkenly spewed on his shoes and in his dad’s car after he tried lugging you home (and taking the fall all himself for your sake) to letting him lose his virginity in your bed to some girl you didn’t know because your parents were out of town and his would crucify him on the spot if they had found out; or him discovering your stash of vibrators in your dorm one day, or seeing each other naked more often than was probably necessary, there was nothing that either of you could do that would phase the other at this point even when it maybe, probably, definitely should.

College, and Jungkook’s sudden six pack of hard rock abs, only seemed to amplify the chaos of your friendship. If you’re being honest, the abs are sort of a plus ━ but they brought an air of fuckboy to him that is undeniably there even if he tries to deny it sometimes. You suppose it isn’t all his fault. Jungkook has always been bold and brash, attractively charming. Considering he’s seemingly made it his mission to sleep with every girl on campus before he graduates (undisclosed, if you’re being honest, because he’s never outwardly admitted it but you have a hunch), his confidence somehow hasn’t failed him yet.

But then there’s one night in which you think to yourself briefly: this surely must draw some sort of line.

“What if we, like, had sex?”

Jungkook says this a little too casually from beside you. He’s sat on the couch in his dorm, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and you’re sprawled out on the remaining space, feet kicked up in his lap. You’re positive he’s drunk but, then again, so are you. The remnant shot glasses of soju you had both started the night with (though you think Jungkook’s had half the bottle himself), and your second glass of wine, are all evidence of that. You’re so absorbed by some anime Jungkook had been watching upon your arrival and refused to change that you almost don’t hear what he says. Almost. You do, however, nearly choke on the gummy bear you’ve just tossed into your mouth.

After a sudden hysterical fit of coughs, you manage to sputter, “Excuse me?”

“Like, hypothetically speaking.” He hardly budges when you turn to gawk at him, as if he’s asking you something as casual as what to eat for dinner or if you could pass him the T.V. remote. “Except, not really hypothetically.”

“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.

Jungkook blinks. “No. Why would I be joking?”

You blink. The longer you stare at him, the quicker you’re able to discern that there’s some sort of earnesty in his words and it slightly concerns you. Suddenly, you’re warm in the face. To distract from that painfully obvious fact, an incredulous laugh bubbles at your lips and you kick one of your feet at his thighs. “Very funny, Koo. Can we change the show now if you’re not even watching it?”

“I’m not joking, Y/N.” The severity in his tone makes you sit up at once. When you turn to look at him, he flashes you a taunting smirk, though the devious sparkle in his eyes lets you know this seems to be anything but a joke to him. “I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked before.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot━” Okay, so maybe you have thought of him naked before but how is it your fault when you literally have seen him naked before, and he’s so unabashed around you? “Should I bring you to a hospital to get your head checked, or━?”

“Just hear me out━” Now, he pushes himself to the edge of the sofa. “Why are you here right now?”

“In life? Because I honestly have no clue━”

“No, I meant here. Getting drunk in my apartment on a Friday night instead of getting railed.”

“Okay, I didn’t ask to get called out like that,” You grumble stiffly. “And because you’re my best friend, and I like spending time with you.” It’s not entirely a lie, because you would much rather spend time with Jungkook than anyone else. But when you feel his eyes boring into you in a look of scrutiny, your lips form into a pout which you try to hide by puckering them. “Also because boys are stupid and Hoseok’s blind date stood me up. Again.”

The events from hours earlier resurface in your memory, in which you had spent all evening making yourself look pretty for a boy you had only talked to through text that your roommate had introduced you to, only to arrive to the restaurant you were supposed to be meeting at and waiting there for half an hour by yourself before the boy had sent you a message saying something along the lines of “something came up, hope we can reschedule,” filing it under one of the lamest excuses you’ve ever heard because it hardly even borders on a valid excuse. It’s what had ultimately made you storm into Jungkook’s apartment an hour ago, exclaiming aloud as a greeting with a simple yet scarily cheerful I hate men! because Jungkook knows all about your plights with finding a significant other (or even just someone decent enough to open your legs to), usually lamenting men’s inability to have any emotions. Even the ones who you think are respectable enough, who say they’re fine not having sex on the first date, usually tend to flee right after you finally let them in because sex, as you come to find, seems to be all that men care about.

Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.

“But it’s not like you’re any better.”

This seems to personally offend Jungkook. He looks at you cynically. “Me?”

“Tell me why you’re here with me on a Friday night when you’re literally one of the hottest guys on campus,” You point out. “You can get any girl, and yet you somehow manage to ruin it every single time. Like with Eunha.”

Jungkook winces. The poor Eunha in question is a pretty girl from your chem class, whomst Jungkook had somehow managed to charm. From what you know, they had hooked up a handful of times before that fateful night in which Jungkook had abruptly broken things off with her. If you’re being honest, he’s not a total monster. The only thing that seems to scare him away is when a girl asks to cuddle him in the morning or talks about the prospective future together. He doesn’t want to hurt them, he told you once before, and finds it much easier to nip any potential relationship in the bud before it can get too far, too out of control.

“We literally only slept together three times anyway and we never went out,” Jungkook points out. “What’s the big deal?”

A roll of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. “Yeah, it’s not her fault you’re scared of commitment.”

“Nu’uh,” The boy sulks. “I’m only scared of realistic things, like microwaves.”

A snort bubbles at your lips, and it’s frustrating how adorable he finds the simple action. Rather than entertain the thought of his irrational fear of kitchen appliances (because you’ve heard it all before, and you still can’t find where he was incited with the terror of an exploding microwave), you sit up.

“Jungkook, I don’t even like you like that.”

“I don’t like you like that either. That’s why it’s so perfect!” Jungkook says brightly. “Look, we know each other better than anyone else ever could. We’re already comfortable with each other. We don’t have to go through all that boring small talk. All I’m saying is we could give it a try. No relationship, no emotions, just sex.”

You consider the thought for a moment, weigh the pros and cons in your head.

The cons? He’s your best friend.

The pros? He’s your best friend, and he’s hot.

Truthfully, your slightly buzzed mind can find very little to dissuade you away from the inviting proposition and maybe that’s why you begin to entertain the idea. And, sure, you had just complained profusely about how men sometimes only used you for sex, but it’s not like you don’t have needs too. You just don’t have the gusto in you anymore to spend days on a boy who will only just leave you the moment you let him have sex with you. At least with Jungkook, he’s already offering you a blatant deal of sex only and you know you won’t have to worry about him breaking your heart; and he doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded dreamy post-sex cuddle talk of a future family and babies and a white picket-fence home. It’s a win-win for the both of you, really. Or maybe you’re just telling yourself that.

“How would we even start?” You ask finally. “I mean… Do you even find me attractive enough in that way?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook hardly bats a lash. He meets your stare, licks slowly at his lower lip. When he sees the cross look of disbelief scrunching at your face, he hastens to respond. “I’m not blind. You’re fucking drop dead gorgeous, Y/N.”

“But physically attractive? I’m no hot girl Eunha.”

“If I wanted Eunha, I’d be between her legs right now. Y/N, of course I think you’re attractive.” A gentle sliver of a smile dances upon his lips. He leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering over your appearance shortly. “I’ve always liked your lips, and your eyes. Think they’re beautiful.”

Suddenly, you’re flustered again. The room feels as if it’s getting increasingly warmer, yet you seem to want to bask in the feeling and attention a little longer. “That’s too sentimental.”

“It’s true though.”

“Well, you’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for idiots,” You jest playfully. “Jerks, too. Playboys who are too hot for their own good.”

“Ah, and I love it when you talk dirty to me.” A cheeky grin tugs at his lips as he clutches at his heart over his chest. “It’s a good thing I like it a little too much, knowing you’ll always keep me in check.”

But then the mirth seems to fade from your mind long enough for you to hum aloud pensively, “And I’ve always liked your eyes. I’ve never seen such big eyes before. Sometimes, if I look long enough, it’s like I can see the stars in them.”

As you’re speaking about them, his irises glisten magnificently. He bites at his lip now, as if to hide the way his soft smile turns sheepish. “I like your bum.”

“Really? I always worry it’s too flat.”

“Are you kidding? Your ass is a fucking god-send. It’s hard not to stare when you wear leggings sometimes,” Jungkook admits, earning a small giggle from you. “And I like your boobs. I’ve always wondered…” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. He shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

Silence saturates the room now, settling comfortably between the two of you. He wonders what you’re thinking, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering against your chest. Perhaps on any other day when you were of sound mind, you could find a plethora of reasons as to why sleeping with your best friend was a terrible idea. But being that you were slightly tipsy, and Jungkook isn’t far off, you can find not one fault, except for maybe how tragically hot Jungkook looks sitting across from you and how he’s never been yours, at least in that way. Would it be so wrong to try just once?

You shift then, pushing yourself to your knees if only so you can worm your way towards him before swinging one leg over his. You settle back on his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He can feel your core press against the inside of his thigh, just where his dick is nestled and he has to bite back a moan. His eyes are wider than usual, as if believing the moment to be surreal, though something sultry threatens to darken them.

“Y/N…”

The excitement crackles through your veins like electricity. You’ve never been in such a compromising position with Jungkook before, and you wonder if it should be concerning just how much you’re enjoying it. It almost feels as if time slows down, every second dragging on, yet he can’t look away. His hands come to tug at your hoodie (that he’s almost positive was his once upon a time before you nicked it from his closet) and you meet him part way, replacing his efforts as you pull it up and off your body. Then, you’re sitting back on his lap in your full nude glory, chest bare and right in his face. He eyes the swell of your breasts, the perk of your nipples. Of course you’re not wearing anything beneath your hoodie ━ and, god, he loves it.

“Touch me?”

Your voice comes to him in an almost dream. You reach for his hand then, your palm soft around his knuckles and the tattoos that ink his skin. It’s the same hand of which he wears the other half to your pair of friendship bracelets in one of his favourite colours of red, decorated with little pink hearts. It came in a matching set of two (yours in your own favourite colour, currently on the wrist of the hand you’re using to guide Jungkook’s), cute little macrame braid ones with hearts woven into the design that you had pointed out one day while you were both at the mall and he had bought without any hesitation mostly as a joke but resulted in both of you wearing them on a daily basis.

Now, all he can do is continue watching you with bated breath as you guide his hand right where you both want him. He comes to cup the underside of one of your breasts, your hand over his pressing his fingers tighter together until you can feel some sort of pleasant pressure. And, just like that, something feral and needy seems to snap within him. His hand slithers from your grasp if only so he can flick his thumb across your nipple, mesmerized by the softness of it. He’s only ever seen you naked once before and it was fleeting. You were both drunk, skinny dipping in a lake with a handful of other friends, but it had been too dark to notice much else. But now? Now, he can see all of you and the sight strikes a chord right down to his dick.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.

“Koo.” The cute little nickname you had given him sounds dirty now as it slips from your lips in a moan. “Too sentimental.”

But Jungkook isn’t listening because you really, really, really are so beautiful. He bows his head to your chest, catching one of your nipples in his mouth. He murmurs something against your chest that sounds akin to, “We can take things slow.”

“Slow…” Your head is spinning, but it’s a delightful sensation. Something hard pokes against your ass now, and the adrenaline only seems to build within you. It’s odd how everything feels so foreign ━ exploring his body and these newfound feelings like the uncharted territory it is ━ yet secure and safe at the same time. As if you know what to do next, where to touch next, how to move, your bodies almost fitting together like pieces to a puzzle. “Y-Yeah, I like that. Can I move?”

“Fuck, yes, please,” he growls. He’s much too busy nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin on your chest, teeth tugging at your nipple.

You hurry to obey, giving a small experimental swivel of your hips that almost immediately has the both of your inhaling a sharp breath of air. His dick strains against his sweatpants, the material doing very little in protecting him against you. Your core throbs as you rub yourself on him.

“Like this?” You rasp.

“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook’s head rolls back onto the couch, his eyes squeezing shut and his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. He clenches his jaw, the nerves fluttering in the corner, as pure euphoria riddles his features. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so sexy. “Fuck, we probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yeah,” You agree, breathless. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Thank god.” The sigh of relief that emits from Jungkook startles even him but, in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t register how any of this could be a mistake. “Ah, shit━ Faster━”

“Mmm, Koo━” You whimper as you quicken your pace, the vulgar harbored thought of his dick in you thrilling you to no end.

“Fuuck, I’ve never heard you sound like this before. So needy, so desperate,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. And it’s all because of him, the way you’re feeling. He’s never wanted to hurry to please you faster, itching to tear you apart if he’ll get to hear those noises from you again and again. “I━”

He’s gonna cum, and he’s not even in your pussy. What’s gotten into him?  

He presses you a little harsher against his dick, sitting up straighter so that his chest is pressed flush against yours. He leans forward, lips chasing after yours, before you pull back just enough sluggishly to press your finger to his mouth.

“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.

The words process in Jungkook’s head, but the weight of them don’t seem to linger in his daze. He’s far too overwhelmed by you and the way you’re making him feel to even begin to try to decipher why you avoid his mouth and so, for now, he doesn’t care. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your throat. You clutch at his hair, tugging at the roots tight enough for him to moan.

“Nnngh, Jungkook━” You whine. “I’m gonna━ Oh, fuck, Koo━”

And then you’re unravelling, right in his very arms. He holds you close as you tremble and shake, rutting your hips sloppily against his to ride out your high, and Jungkook thinks he can definitely get used to this. The familiar burn forms in his stomach and, without even thinking of it, he comes in the confinements of his pants.

But in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice quite a lot of things. Neither do you.

So, maybe you could both find a hundred and one reasons why having sex with your best friend would surely cross some lines, but the thing with you and Jungkook (and what would eventually blossom into a hubristic relationship of sorts) is that it wasn’t just sex. You would always be comfortable around him, as he would be with you. And nothing could ever possibly get weird between the two of you ━ not when you had both made a promise to each other that it wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship.

Because ━ while, yeah, he’s hot and suffers from fuckboy tendencies from time-to-time and, aside from random late night hookups ━ he was still the same boy that would drag you out at three in the morning to drive to the next city over for a bowl of ramen, who would marathon shows as long as One Piece or Game of Thrones with you, watching as much as you can in one all-nighter; who would come to your dorm, no matter the time of day, the moment you said you were sick or suffering from cramps, piled high with your favourite snacks; who shared a repertoire of silly inside jokes with you that never made any sense to anyone but the both of you; who insisted you both wear friendship bracelets even in college. He would always be an angel to you, treat you well, because you meant that much to him.

A small thought in the back of Jungkook’s head wonders, above all else, if you were anyone different, would he have even bothered suggesting such a ludicrous idea, drunk or not?

Because he’s positive no one else could make him cum in his pants like a horny prepubescent teen ━ no one except for you.

“If we’re really gonna do this, we need to set some ground rules.”

Admittedly, neither you nor Jungkook knew what would happen after Jungkook’s proposition to you. Maybe you were expecting the two of you to pretend as if nothing had ever happened, or laugh it off as something so inconsequential that neither of you should bother worrying about it. Instead, the very next day, you find that you’re back in Jungkook’s dorm. Only this time, you’re in his bed, and he spent the past half hour sufficiently eating you out.

Now, you’ve had an epiphany in the form of Jungkook’s dick, and that is that it’s big.

You’ve seen it before on occasion ━ like when he streaked nude across campus as a dare or when he needed to use your shower because his apartment was under maintenance and he walked out on you in the living room ━ but this is clearly a very different circumstance. All red, swollen, angry tip wet and glistening with precum. You had to brace yourself as he pushed himself into you, cautiously and slowly, enjoying the way you stretch to fit around him. If you had a drunken excuse the night before for loving the thought of getting off with Jungkook, then you surely don’t have one now. It’s a shameless guilty pleasure, you think, that he’s at least indulging in.

“Rules,” Jungkook scoffs now. “You’re such a nerd. Fuck, you feel so fucking good━ You doing okay?”

More than. Your head lolls back against his pillow, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Mhm.”

“Want a minute?”

“Maybe.”

Jungkook pauses without any hesitation, gnawing on his lower lip as your walls clench around him so tightly he feels he might fall apart then and there. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles against your burning skin. A few deep breaths later and you’re probing Jungkook to move again. His hips rut into yours at a leisure pace, and he marvels for a moment at the way his dick disappears into your pussy, slick and wet with your own arousal. The thought of being in you ━ of finally feeling your walls wrapped around him, all wet and snug ━ is enough to make him bust then and there, but he refrains miraculously.

“Holy fuck,” You groan. “Why are you so big━”

Your voice cuts off into a delightful whimper, walls aching around him. Jungkook snorts, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Nothing sexier than hearing you stroke my ego.”

“Don’t let it get to your already big head,” You retort sluggishly.

“Big head!” he grumbles against your throat, lips brushing faintly against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. “Insult me some more. You know how it gets me going.”

“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”

“Rules.”

“Right,” You breathe in a sharp inhale of air as he grinds against your hips. “And rule number one is no kissing. That’s way too intimate.”

Jungkook quirks a brow. “How is kissing more intimate than having my dick in you?”

“It just is.” You refuse to tell him the truth. You poke your fingers at his sides, causing him to jerk against you. “Don’t question it.”

“Fine. Then no sentimental shit in general, like cuddling or pet names,” Jungkook retorts. “And no public displays of affection.”

“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

“God, I love hearing you moan my name,” Jungkook grunts. He watches with fascination the way your face reacts at his every movement. “Too much?”

“No. Kinda hot,” You admit. An abrupt thought pops into your head that has you murmuring hazily, “Oh, and you can’t have sex with me to your sex playlist.”

Jungkook looks appalled. The sex playlist in question is one you’ve heard briefly before, if only because you’ve walked in on Jungkook and his flavour of the month a handful of times one too many times.

“So you’re telling me you don’t want to have the best orgasm of your life to The Weeknd or the Neighbourhood? WAP?” Jungkook asks, wriggling his brows suggestively. “Alanis Morissette?” You have less than half a second to register the 90s pop singer as out of place before Jungkook breaks out into song with a brief rendition of Head over Feet. “You’re my best friend, best friend with benefits━!”

Part of you knows he’s joking, but there’s still a small sliver of you that makes you gawk at him dubiously before dissolving into a fit of unabashed laughter. It rumbles against his chest, vibrates his dick in you. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not actually in your sex playlist, is it?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’ll never know now.”

Another roll of your eyes makes him snicker. He’s gotten used to your snide remarks, but he’ll gladly keep suffering under them if he gets to wipe that taunting smirk off your face each time with the way his dick makes you feel. You cling a little tighter to his shoulders and muse aloud, “So that’s it then?”

“Yeah━” Jungkook knows you’re referring to the rules and your plan, although it’s getting harder to focus on talking as he continues to grind against you. “And nothing has to change between us, even if we stop. We’re still just two best friends.”

“Yup.”

“Who have sex from time to time.”

“Yeah.”

He can’t help himself. He tries again. “Who might kiss.”

“Nope.” You’re smiling even despite the way you shoot him an aggravated stare first.

“We might?”

“No, we definitely won’t.”

Worth a shot, he thinks to himself. At least you really do always keep him in check.

After all, what are best friends for?

So, maybe a part of you thought the shift in your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t last very long. A week at most, and maybe Hoseok would find you another pointless let down of a blind date to go on and Jungkook would get horny for some other girl ━ but it’s certainly been more than a week now, and you’ve had sex with him more than two times.

A third, and a fourth, if you’re being blatantly honest, and maybe a few more times after that but you don’t really remember what count you’re both on now which should probably be concerning. Days elapse into days, which turn to weeks, then months. Morning, afternoon, and night.

It’s not as if you hadn’t already spent almost every waking moment with Jungkook but now you had a reason to be at his apartment at any and all hours of the day and not solely for movie watching marathons. You’re positive he’s still having his occasional random flings, though you’re fortunate his commitment issues at least force him to go to their homes rather than his for the most part, so you never really have to witness half-naked girls stumbling out of his apartment just as you’re wandering in. He says it has something to do with how his bedroom is his sacred space, though you think it’s more like he wouldn’t want his hook ups discovering his Overwatch figurines or something (because, before Jungkook’s proposition, you’ve walked in on him once and a girl when they were entangled on the couch in his living room).

But you’ve noticed lately you’re getting too comfortable with your arrangement with Jungkook; too comfortable knowing he’ll be there at the end of a long day to greet you, to please you until you’re crying out his name. Sometimes he tells you about the girls he’s texting, or shows you a picture from a hot girl’s Instagram whose D.M.s he’s just slid into. And sometimes you’re left wondering how often he comes straight to you after hooking up with a random girl.

It shouldn’t matter to you, and you swear that it doesn’t.

Maybe you’re just overthinking things. Hoseok certainly seems to think so, but his judgement wasn’t much to go by.

Because, lately, Hoseok has been encouraging you more and more to give Yukhei (the blind date Hoseok had initially set you up with when you found yourself at Jungkook’s) another chance for two reasons: 1) “Yukhei’s a nice boy,” he had cheerfully reminded you, “he’ll treat you well,” and 2) “Stop fucking your best friend. It’s morally wrong.”

There were many things wrong with his statement, from the fact that you didn’t exactly consider standing up a date as “nice” and that you were also still begrudgingly lamenting the way Hoseok had discovered your recent fling with Jungkook (although, you weren’t being very inconspicuous, having shower sex with Jungkook early one morning when you were certain Hoseok would be spending the day at his fiance’s home instead of yours).

But then you meet Yukhei and you realize that, oh crap, he’s cute. And he’s nice.

As it turns out, after bumping into him one day when you’re with Hoseok lounging on the quad of your campus and he comes bounding over to return a textbook Hoseok had lent him for a specific class, Yukhei is so easily charming. He also gives a pretty valid excuse for flaking on your date, proving that he had to present his dissertation, making you clearly aware that he’s cute, nice, and smart. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t see the appeal, yet his curiosity and intrigue seems to get the best of him.

“So that was your blind date?” Jungkook asks after grabbing your attention on the quad and stealing you away from Hoseok and Yukhei. “Yukhei?”

“You know him?”

“Seen him around,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve never really talked to him. But him? You’re not telling me you’re actually interested in him, are you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” You’re truly just as clueless about your feelings towards Yukhei as Jungkook seems to be. “What’s so wrong about him?”

“He’s━” Jungkook stops. He shakes his head. “Heard he’s got a small dick anyway.”

You shoot the boy a wary look, only to find him grinning deviously at himself. “Maybe he just wants to be friends.”

At this, Jungkook lets out a scoffing sound that borders on disbelieving laughter. “No, I definitely think he wants to have sex with you in his Toyota Camry, Y/N, but what do I know?”

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

“No, why would I be jealous?”

You can’t quite tell if he’s angry or not but, then again, why would he be? As far as either of you are concerned, there’s nothing to be jealous of.

So then why does it feel like he’s simply just telling himself that?

“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”

Jungkook asks this from somewhere behind you a handful of days later, a little peeved but most likely because your jarring 8:00 a.m. alarm had roused the both of you violently awake. In his defense, Jungkook is not a morning person.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You’re currently sprawled out on your hands and knees on his bed, phone still in your grasp after having plucked it off the nightstand in haste. Your clothes are scattered across the floor of his room, remnant clues of the night before when he had beckoned you over after hours, and your body is covered in nothing but hickeys and an unbuttoned blue flannel belonging to Jungkook that you had chucked on last night that does nothing in covering up the swell of your breasts which Jungkook is now currently eyeing. “Am I not giving you enough attention? Were you expecting cuddles or something? Thought that wasn’t in the rules.”

“No,” Jungkook huffs. He runs a hand through his long messy hair in an attempt to fix it; he ultimately gives up taming his locks, instead using the hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back into a cute yet sexy little ponytail. As he does so, you notice the red friendship bracelet around his wrist and smile smally. “But my dick could use some cuddles. Preferably with your mouth, but it will also gladly accept your hand.”

Jungkook may not be a morning person but, as you’ve come to realize, his dick certainly is.

It’s painfully obvious too, his hardened length straining against the gray sweatpants he had thrown on at some point. And, god, did he have to wear those? It left little to the imagination, the outline of his length teasing you just enough.

“I should get going,” You say. “I have a test coming up. There’s supposed to be a review session today in class, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Well, you don’t seem like you’re in a rush since you’re still on your phone,” Jungkook points out. “Who are you texting anyway? Yukhei?”

“Anger is an emotion,” You rebuke casually. “So is jealousy.”

Jungkook feigns a look of mock hurt. “I’m not angry or jealous! I’m needy.”

Still, Jungkook reaches out to swiftly pluck your phone from your hands.

“Jungkook━!”

He’s pressed up against your back in an instant, his dick hard against your ass, and he doesn’t move very far even when you twist in your spot in an attempt to grab your phone back. You don’t, and instead you end up on your back with him on his side, propped up on his elbow. You miss when he casts a swift gaze down at your phone, only to see that Yukhei’s chat messages are indeed open, and something seems to gnaw terribly at his gut before he tosses your phone to the side. He’s looking at you now with those big beautiful eyes of his, and you hate it.

“Please?” he beckons. He ruts his hips impatiently but slowly against your leg. He drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, lips dangerously close to brushing against your flesh but he refrains somehow. “M’so hard right now, could probably bust the moment you touch me.”

The thought is tempting, having a helpless Jungkook cumming in your hands. The sight alone has quickly become your favourite thing, helping the frustrated boy get off. Besides, you’re certain you could ask Hoseok for the review notes.

Fuck it, you cave.

You fidget until you’ve pressed him back against the bed and have clambered on top of him, wiggling your way down to fit between his legs. Jungkook is watching you now with a half-asleep expression, though his teeth sink into his lower lip as you pull at his sweatpants until they’re down at his thighs, letting his swollen dick spring free.

“You know━” You hum. You reach out to grab at the base of his cock. “Yukhei wants to hang out, and Hoseok keeps telling me to give it a shot.”

That much is true. Part of you wants to say yes, if only because Yukhei seems promising enough, but the thought alone is enough for you to feel as if you’ve done something horribly wrong to Jungkook.

“Oh.” The word eclipses Jungkook’s mouth in a shallow breath of air. Then, your mouth wraps around the puffy head of his dick, shining with leaking precum that you swallow back, and Jungkook’s reaction is immediate. Head thrown back, face scrunching together, muscles in his toned abdomen flexing as he seizes and grunts aloud. “Oh, fuck━ Well… Are you gonna?”

Jungkook asks the last question with much difficulty, and a part of him thinks it doesn’t all have to do with how you’re making him feel.

“Dunno.” You snort around his dick, and he marvels at how adorable such a lewd action can seem.

You decide to focus on sucking him off because it truly is a sexy sight to see, letting the topic of Yukhei drop. Jungkook certainly doesn’t mind. As you swirl your tongue around his tip and reach up with your free hand to fondle at his balls, his long hair falls into his lashes but he still tries to find you past his wild locks, hooded eyes gazing down at you.  

“Ah, shit━” Jungkook hisses delightfully, hips jerking forward instinctively into your mouth. The faintest hints of a drowsy smirk tug at his lips. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”

Yeah, you think to yourself then, you’re definitely going to ride him later. Screw going to class.

From: Jungkook Sent: 1:05 a.m.

bro i noticed u werent wearing our friendship bracelet while u were giving me head earlier. is everything ok??

You wake in the morning to a single text from Jungkook ━ and one you had not been expecting.

That’s not to say that getting the occasional text message from Jungkook at any and all hours of the day was abnormal, but the extent of his messages sent anywhere past midnight usually always range from something more coherent in the form of “what would u do if i was there rn?” to something exuding typical lazy Jungkook manner with a simple “dtf?” or “send noods lol” to something even more provocatively cryptic such as the eggplant and splashing water (or, as far as Jungkook is concerned, something else entirely) emojis and nothing else, left open for your own interpretation that typically, usually, without a doubt, results in you in his bed and his dick in you. But this seems to be something else entirely.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s text isn’t the only concern of yours.

Hoseok has spent the better part of the morning giving you a lecture on why having sex with your best friend is bad. He seems so passionate about the topic that you’re certain he would have pulled out a powerpoint at any moment, each slide ending in a picture of Yukhei and why you should maybe try fucking him instead, if you entertained the idea a little longer. Hoseok claims it’s just a harmless date. Yukhei might be a nice boy, but you don’t know how you feel about him. You don’t want to lead him on, and a scary thought points out the fact that maybe, while Yukhei is a nice boy, he isn’t Jungkook.

“I don’t get why you don’t just give Yukhei a chance━” Hoseok is saying now, sat on the couch in your shared apartment with him. “It’s not like you have to marry him. I don’t think one date will hurt━ Aaand, you’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”

The sheepish look on your face is enough of an answer for him. You’ve been anxiously eyeing your phone and the text Jungkook had sent you last that you’ve yet to respond to, even despite being awake for more than a few hours now.

“Yes, I am listening,” You say dismissively. “Something about how one date won’t hurt, but that’s what you said when Yoongi asked you out, and you’re literally engaged now.”

The glistening metallic ring on Hoseok’s finger is evidence enough. The boy looks down at it as if seeing it for the first time, purses his lips, and then nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right. But you’re holding out for Jungkook and for what? He’s hot, yeah, and he’s your best friend, sure, but at the end of the day he’s still just a horny male who wants to stick his dick in anything that moves.”

“Hoseok.” Your grumbling sigh is interrupted by the motion of your phone vibrating against your thigh once more. You peek at the screen fleetingly to see a new text.

From: Jungkook Sent: 2:35 p.m.

send n00ds?

miss ur tits :(

Typical Jungkook.

The text from the night before is all but seemingly forgotten from his mind, and you can’t quite tell if you’re devastated or relieved. You don’t have very long to discern which emotion you’re feeling when Hoseok snatches your phone to look at what’s gotten your attention before exclaiming suddenly, “Aha! See! What did I say?”

“It’s not like that,” You wave Hoseok off. “Jungkook treats me well. He respects me, and I’m comfortable with him.”

“And how long until whatever this is━” He gestures vaguely to your phone as if to point out your relationship with Jungkook, “has to end? Do you really think a pinky promise is going to make sure your friendship with him isn’t totally ruined? I mean, how can you continue being casual friends with someone, see them dating someone else, when they’ve had their dick in you?”

You know it makes sense. Realistically, you either stop sleeping with each other or it potentially develops into something more. But in both circumstances, what were the chances that either of you didn’t get your heart broken? Maybe a part of you was apprehensive of Jungkook finding the “right” person for him one day that has him ending things with you, and while you swear you’d be happy for him, relationships sometimes have a way of distracting people from those already around them. Were you prepared to have someone take him away from you, platonically and whatever it is else that you have with him? Did you really think you could just keep being friends with him, as if nothing ever occurred between you two?

You don’t think Jungkook is bothered worrying about the state of your friendship with him, much less overthinking it like you seem to be. It shouldn’t be a big deal ━ yet why was there still that terrible nagging voice in the back of your mind? Whether or not Hoseok is right, you don’t want to find out. You don’t have feelings for Jungkook anyway.

But your ability to bend at his every will is certainly interesting.

You grab your phone before Hoseok can do any serious damage like unlocking it and responding to Jungkook, clutching it to your chest as you start to cross the living room. The other boy looks at you in bewilderment. “Where are you going now?”

“Where does it look?” You call over your shoulder just before you disappear into the bathroom, and Hoseok deduces all at once that you’re truly a lost cause. “I need to send him a picture of my boobs.”

“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”

Admittedly, there were many mundane but essentially weird things you’ve talked to Jungkook about while having sex. You’ve had many heated debates about everything under the sun from whether or not pineapple on pizza should be illegal to top five betrayals in either movies or animes, to passionate grand philosophical discussions about what exists outside of the universe.

It’s not as if you had been planning on talking about Yukhei to Jungkook when he had invited you over to his apartment late at night after sending your risqué boob picture to him but, like many things in your friendship with Jungkook, it sort of just happened. He had asked you how your day was and you had decided to broach the topic experimentally, though you think deep down you’re doing it on purpose to see if he’d react in any way. What started with you mentioning Hoseok’s adamance and you sort of genuinely asking Jungkook for advice on Yukhei somehow evolved into Jungkook interrogating you on whether or not you’ve hung out with him yet.

“Jungkook. You’re getting off topic,” You admonish him now, as if your own choice of topic is any better when his dick is currently in you.

Jungkook is wedged between your thighs smushed up against your chest, large palms holding you on your ribcage in place beneath him. He’s a comfortable heavy draped over top of you, cock stretching you wide. You can feel his heart hammering against yours and he’s slick with sweat, golden hair clinging to his forehead and in his pretty eyes. You resist the urge to reach out and brush the messy locks away but, again, how would that be any less intimate of an action than what you’re already doing? Another line uncrossed, you suppose.

“How am I off topic?” Jungkook retorts. “You literally just said you can’t tell if he’s into you but he dropped by when you were done class and bought you lunch. You don’t just do that for a girl you don’t care that much about.”

“You buy me lunch, like, every day,” You point out.

“Because you’re my best friend. Of course I care about you,” Jungkook says.

“Ah, Jungkook━” You curse suddenly, grabbing his attention when you shift your weight beneath him. “You’re crushing me. Why’d you stop moving?”

He doesn’t have an answer, if only because he hadn’t even realized he’d stop moving in the first place. Without hesitation, he continues leisurely rutting his hips against yours, grabbing at one of your legs to hook it around his waist. This new angle lets you feel even more of him as he sinks further into you, if that was even still possible, reaching so far into you that you swear it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. Your head lolls back against the pillows, pure euphoria contorting your face so much so to the point that it distracts you entirely from the distant look glazing over Jungkook’s eyes.

“Yukhei definitely wants to bang,” he huffs under his breath.

At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.

“I can’t believe we’re seriously having this conversation right now,” You roll your eyes, fingers prodding at his sides. “I don’t wanna talk about Yukhei potentially wanting to have sex with me.”

Jungkook’s glad you said it, at least. Though now he’s watching you with hooded eyes as he thrusts into you a little harder, maybe a little intentionally. His indulgent gaze droops to your breasts, admiring the way they bounce beneath him each time his hips make contact with yours. He thinks back earlier in the day to the picture you had sent him which, really, had sparked the mood for the rest of the night.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines abruptly. His eyes screw shut and brows furrow together as your walls clench around him. He drops his head to bury his face in your chest, lips momentarily wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucks harshly at the soft flesh. When he speaks next, forehead still resting against your collarbones, his voice is a breathless croak, “Well, do you like him?”

“No,” You moan. “Maybe━ Fuck, Koo━ I don’t know.”

“He’s gonna be at that party Tae’s throwing, isn’t he?” Jungkook tries to focus, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to do so when he’s inching closer and closer to his high. “Shit, ah, Y/N━ Why don’t you try talking to him or something? See how the night goes?”

“He’s nice but I don’t think he’s the one for me,” You admit sheepishly. “I think I’m just gonna end things while I still can, with as little harm as possible.”

“Well, glad that’s settled,” Jungkook mumbles. “Can we please stop talking about Yukhei now?”

You seem to miss the way he clings to you a little tighter, hands flying down to grip at your hips, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your skin. He snaps his hips into yours a little faster this time, your pussy throbbing around him.

“Nngh, Jungkook━”

Your hands fumble to grip at his hair, tugging tightly at the roots and earning a delightful hiss from the boy. Your own mouth drops open in a silent moan and it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust at just how sexy the sight is. He hates how his eyes stay trained on the shape of your lips, the soft plumpness of them. He’s felt them wrapped around his dick plenty of times before but he concedes that it’s probably hardly anywhere near to how it would feel to kiss you. Like actually kiss you, tongue and all.

God, what’d he give just to smother your lips with his.

And, god, he hopes you never find out. He’s positive that thought is far more scandalous alone than anything you’ve ever done together.

You’re writhing beneath him now, hips jutting forward desperately to meet his. “I’m gonna cum, Jungkook━”

“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook growls. “Wanna feel you cream around my cock so bad. Come on, baby━”

In the heat of the moment, you seem to miss the pet name that slurs off his tongue and the sentiment in it. A few more jolting slams of his hips and you’re tumbling over the edge. He has to sputter for air when he feels your pussy wrapping so tightly around him, stuttering in his pace above you if only to watch as you unravel beneath him. Hooded dark eyes glazed over in that perfect fucked out expression he loves so much, teeth biting at your lower lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bruise in the morning.

A sudden thought pops into his head when you’ve settled enough, amongst the blinding pure white of bliss that clouds his thoughts. “Did you get my text by the way? The one I sent last night?”

You gasp for air. The bracelet on your wrist itches at the mention of it, and you’re fortunate you decided to wear it that afternoon before coming to Jungkook’s. “Y-Yeah━”

“Well…?”

“Everything’s fine,” You say this as dismissively as you can. Your core is still vibrating after the harsh impact of your orgasm paired with Jungkook’s swollen length still in you. “I just… I was taking a shower and didn’t want to get it wet. I forgot to put it back on in the morning.”

That’s a lie. You had mostly taken it off as part of an experiment, though it hasn’t answered much. At least Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize that.

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes. A beat of silence passes, before he deadpans cockily, “Wait, you were taking a shower and I wasn’t invited?”

“Oh my god, shut up━” Maybe if he hadn’t just currently driven you to nirvana and back, you’d notice the way the sloppy grin on his face is a simple taunt. But you’re much too distracted to care. Instead, you use your leg that’s still hooked around his waist to gently push and roll him onto his back so that you can straddle his hips. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he watches you waste no time in hurrying to grind against him at an agonizingly steady pace that makes his head spin. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m trying to make you cum.”

A devious cackle rumbles from his chest, albeit a little contented at the same time. Yeah, he definitely likes the sound of that. “Well then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

It’s only then that his question comes back into your mind. If he felt the need to ask you again about the bracelet, maybe that meant something after all. At the very least, it means he hadn’t forgotten about it altogether. On the other hand, you wonder how often he had spent thinking, or over-thinking, the issue in the past twenty-four hours, if at all.

Was it wrong to feel some semblance of joy over that potential fact? Probably.

That doesn’t seem to bother you much this time. Not when he’s gazing up at you as if you’re some divine sexy goddess, all his to enjoy. You can’t help yourself; you reach down to brush the sweaty hair from his eyes, perhaps all too gentle of an action for best friends.

And he smiles, maybe a little too softly and maybe a little too ardently if you look close enough.

He smiles.

The thing about your supposed “rules” with your relationship with Jungkook is that there might be a few loose ends that neither you nor Jungkook pay much attention to sometimes.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Mostly, the “no public displays of affection” clause is easily disregardable. It’s typically when you’re too drunk to remember it and a bit needy, craving one another’s touch, but those around you never truly seem to care or even notice because, if you’re lucky, they’re equally as smashed. Sometimes the “no cuddles” clause blurs into a gray area where it’s simply just you and Jungkook post-sex, sprawled out in his bed, not necessarily wrapped up in one another’s arms and cooing sweet nothings to one another but giggling at nothing in particular except one another as you bask in each other’s company and nothing more. You suppose some rules are meant to be broken.

For the most part, Jungkook never seems to question the no kissing rule you were so adamant in insisting. Not until one night in which you’re left wondering where things go so drastically wrong. It starts off as normally as any other day with you and Jungkook can, spent in his apartment binge watching movies. You hadn’t expected that night to switch as suddenly as it does when Jungkook shoots you a text earlier in the day asking if you want to come to his for a night of casual drinking as simply “best friends.” But, as always, one thing seems to lead to another, and you can’t get enough of Jungkook. Maybe it’s in the way he holds you a little tighter, the way he tugs you onto his lap on the sofa in his living room, the way he grips your thighs with a certain type of insatiable desire.

“You know…” he hums. “You drive me insane. In, like, the best way possible.”

Part of you realizes his actions even without him seeming to, and the drunken smile on your face remaining frozen in place, a little dumbfounded. “Jungkook…”

“When I’m with you…” He lifts his stare to look at you, but you have nothing to say. Neither does he. Instead, you’re left grinning at one another and suddenly your face is warm. He leans towards you, his nose nuzzling against the side of your throat. Your hands stay threaded in his hair now, and he swears he feels you secure your grip as if to pull him closer.

You can feel his lips brush faintly against your skin, grazing along your neck to the underside of your jaw. Up, up, up, until━

It’s just as his mouth meets with the corner of yours that you register what he’s doing, even in your clouded state. You turn your head just in time, and he comes to an immediate halt, his lips barely making contact with your cheek instead before he pulls away. He doesn’t move very far but you also don’t push him away just yet. Instead, you shift your head to look at him, still inches apart from him.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He can’t quite tell if you’re appalled or not, an empty expression staring back at him.

“I━ You━” He fumbles over his words, squeezes his eyes shut. He blames it on the alcohol even though his head is swimming with thoughts that seem to only concern you. But then a fierceness seems to stir within him, one that makes his jaw clench as he meets your stunned stare. The question rolls off his tongue without meaning to. “Is this about Yukhei?”

“What?”

“Is that why you weren’t wearing our bracelet the other day?”

The question is so ridiculous, you have to laugh. “What are you going on about?”

But Jungkook doesn’t see what’s so funny and so he tries again, his persistence taking hold. “Is that why you won’t ever let me kiss you?”

You blink. Then, you’re shaking your head at him. Exasperation hangs heavy in your words, shaping in the form of a tired scoff. “You’re not serious.”

You’ve slithered off of his lap before he can even think to stop you ━ but if he had, would you have even stayed? You’re mad, but he doesn’t know why. “No, I wanna know. Because if what we have is already so meaningless, what makes a kiss any different?”

“Jungkook…”

“So I wanna know,” he says, brows unconsciously knitting together. His gaze is searching yours desperately, as if begging for an answer he’ll want to hear. But he knows he’s being an idiot, a small sober part in him makes him realize that. “Humour me. Have you had sex with him yet?”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe that’s what you’re on about.” Suddenly, you’re frowning. Your hardened stare meets the boy’s and the irritation that scrunches at your face makes him wince, but it’s too late for him to take back the damage that he’s done. “Yeah, Jungkook, we fucked in his stupid Toyota that you hate so much and he choked me and I liked it. He did all sorts of dirty things to me. Is that what you want to hear?” The sardonic tone hisses at his ears, but he bites back his words, the sober part in him doing some decent good by shushing him. “No, Jungkook, we didn’t fuck. We haven’t even gone on a date, and I don’t even know if I want to, and you think I’m throwing myself at him.”

“But you wanna.”

“You’re being an idiot,” You admonish. “I’m going home. Talk to me when you’re sober.”

He has just enough time to watch you turn on your heel, march towards his door, when he scrambles to his feet. The weight of his words and actions finally seem to dawn on him, hitting him harshly in the face and in the heart.

“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.

He chases after you, hand reaching out to press his palm against the door before you can shimmy it open. He’s fortunate when you turn to look at him, though your arms are folded impatiently over your chest.

“You’re right. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he promises earnestly. Then, he lets out a frustrated groan. “I just… What if we… Shit, what if we stop for right now? Y’know… Hooking up. Whatever this is.”

He gestures vaguely between the two of you with his hands, a wearied look plastering his face.

You hate to admit how his words seem to affect you. They bite at the air, leave you breathless as you gawk at him, but the harsh realization of it all is that you were never his to have and he was never yours. Hoseok had been right when he said these things were bound to come to an end ━ so why did it seem to hurt you so much?

A beat of prolonged silence passes between the two of you. Jungkook runs a hand through his chaotic blonde hair, digging the heel of his palm into his temple as if to rid himself of a headache he’s no doubt sporting. Maybe you’re waiting for a better explanation, but he gives none, and you don’t feel as if you have the right to ask why. He’s not your boyfriend, for god’s sake. It’s not like he’s breaking your heart.

Instead, you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”

“Okay.” It’s all that he says in return.

So then why does it feel like he is?

When Jungkook had promised that if your fling with him ended you would go back to being untainted best friends, he was apparently lying.

A part of you can’t believe the sheer nerve of him to ghost you in his traditional fuckboy ways, and yet he does. You suppose not entirely, at the very least. Part of it ends up with you being even more vexed by his sudden shift in emotion, and the tangible tension that rises between the two of you should have been dealt with properly, yet neither of you do anything about it, leaving your friendship stagnant and stale for a week. After all, how are you really supposed to go back to “just friends” when you’ve seen his dick one too many times?

You refrain from telling Hoseok, if only so you don’t have to hear him tell you he told you so ━ but you also decide to give Yukhei that one chance, and so you think Hoseok wouldn’t mind so much anyway.

Admittedly, when Yukhei asks to hang with you at Taehyung’s eventual party, you aren’t entirely too keen, but you accept it if only because you heard Jungkook will be there too. For the majority of the night, you don’t see the boy, and you spend the hours cozying up with Yukhei in a conversation that dulls you. As it would appear, it seems to bore Yukhei too, but you only notice that when he starts touching you on your waist and the small of your back. There’s a moment where he leans his head close enough to yours that you realize he’s trying to kiss you, resulting in an awkward encounter in which you push him away, palms on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. The answer is obvious enough to you, but you don’t think you should tell him for his own dignity. That, instead, all you can imagine is Jungkook in his place. “Should we get out of here?”

“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”

You’re both fortunate yet horrified when you hear Jungkook’s voice. He’s standing just behind you, his own stare devoid of any emotion, though his brows furrow and his jaw clenches in a signature Jungkook manner that you know means he’s pissed. He hardly acknowledges Yukhei, nodding in his general direction. You don’t remember if you leave Yukhei there or if he leaves, or if Jungkook even gives a poor attempt of an excuse to the boy, but you’ve not so much as uttered a single word or let out an exhalation of air, when Jungkook ultimately pulls you off to the side where it’s just you and him once more.

“I’m not sucking your dick in Tae’s grimy bathroom, if that’s what you want,” You scowl once Yukhei is out of earshot. “You’ve lost the privilege that is my mouth.”

“That’s not━” Jungkook shakes his head, exasperated. “That’s not what I want. I just━ I’ll take you home. Please?”

You know the offer is much more than him simply walking you the route to your dorm, which you already know like the back of your hand. Yet, you don’t argue. Truthfully, it’s a relief when Jungkook lugs you out of the party. The entire venture back to your apartment is treacherous, in the way that you’re left sobering up enough to the point that your dizzying thoughts become more coherent. Hoseok is gone for the weekend at least, spending the days with his fiance, so you don’t have to worry about humiliating yourself in front of your roommate when it comes to Jungkook.

You’ve barely made it through your front door when you’re grumbling aloud, “What do you want, Jungkook?”

“I wanna talk,” he says firmly. “About us. About Yukhei.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” But that’s a lie. Talking to Jungkook, even despite masquerading your annoyance for him, is a blessing in disguise. You’ve missed the idiot, and hearing his voice. “Besides, you told me to give him a chance.”

“And you said you didn’t want to.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Yeah, you sure seemed like you loved it when he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat,” Jungkook retorts bitterly. “C’mon, Y/N. We both know that’s a lie.”

“You know, you’ve been a real dick lately.”

A sliver of a smirk tugs at Jungkook’s face. “I thought you love dick.”

Clearly, his poor attempt at a joke doesn’t land well with you. “Why do you even care so much if Yukhei and I get together? Stop acting so high and mighty and moral, Jungkook. It’s not like you’re some virgin saint. How many times have I heard you talk about all those girls you’ve fucked? And what was I? Just another notch in your belt this whole time?”

“What?” Jungkook gasps now, as if disbelieving you would ever think such a thing. “No! You’re not just another notch. I would never even think about you that way. And I haven’t had sex with anyone else but you this whole time and I easily could have.”

“Wow! Such a martyr,” You remark dryly. When you speak next, you meet his stare with your own crestfallen gaze. “I just want my best friend back.” Your words hurt him more than you think, but he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re the one who tried to kiss me, then suggested we stop whatever it is we’re doing━”

Jungkook flinches. “I know.”

“Then you ignore me for days even though you promised nothing would change━”

“I know,” he says desperately. He closes the distance between the two of you, yearning to reach out and touch you. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, trying with all his might to focus when the room feels like it’s spinning.

“And then you get mad when Yukhei tries to make a move. It’s like you’re jealous or something!”

“I am.” He can’t take it anymore. The words tumble from his lips in a rush that he hardly bothers to bite back.

“Why?”

“Because━ Because━” He struggles to form his thoughts into words, stumbling over his sentence. Fuck, he’s never like this. Even you can tell. He grits his teeth next. “I lean in to kiss you and you look at me as if I’m out of my mind. I just don’t get it. You don’t want me to kiss you but you let me put my dick in your ass.”

The taut line of your lip quivers as you break. “That was one time and you didn’t even get all the way in!”

“Y/N.” Jungkook hums now. He’s gazing at you a little softly, reaching out to place his hands on your waist. “Look, I know I’ve been an idiot. But lately, when I touch you, I fucking feel so alive and the thought of Yukhei doing anything with you when it isn’t me, who should be with you, makes me want to vomit. And when I wake up in the morning alone, I only want you next to me. And I can’t be the only one feeling that way. If I am, tell me. Right now. Please. I just wanna know why you won’t ever let me kiss you, but you let me do all sorts of things with you. Am I really that repulsive?”

Another moment of silence stifles the room. Jungkook is so close to you now, you can’t help yourself. You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material as you lean your forehead out of frustration against his shoulder and he instinctively lets his arms slither around your waist, holding you to him. Then━

“No.”

“What?”

“I only made the rule because I don’t want you to kiss me unless you mean it,” You murmur into his chest. “Like really, really mean it. Like I’m more than just a notch in your belt. Because I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m already in love with you but then I’ll really be in love with you and I don’t want to get my heart broken.”

The anticipation kills you, awaiting his response. You refuse to lift your head, until you hear him grumble, “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Me?”

The retort is filled with your typical jestering hostility as you finally look at him. But just as you do so, Jungkook’s reaching out to grasp at your face, rough hands all soft and gentle as they cradle your cheeks, guiding you towards him and smoothing his lips over yours until you melt like putty in his hands.

Kissing Jungkook, you deduce at once, is not at all how you imagined it.

It’s everything and more. You’ve felt his mouth on you before but in much different circumstances. Between your legs, on your throat, down past the valley of your breasts ━ and each kiss then had been feral, sloppy, rough. Now, it’s sweet and tender, the feeling of his lips as soft as how he makes your heart feel. And the butterflies━ god, the butterflies.

Impatient hands tug and pull at one another until you’ve both stumbled into your room and onto your bed. He’s clambered over top of you, lips struggling to not part throughout the whole ordeal, until he’s wedged himself between your thighs.

Only then does Jungkook part from you just enough in the next moment, lips brushing against yours, as he whispers ardently, “I mean it.”

Then he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, his mouth grazing along your skin in a feathery touch. His hands help you shed your shirt, and the bra underneath. “I mean it when I kiss you here.”

Then he drops his head to your neck, kissing at the base of your throat, before nipping at it lightly. “And here.”

Your hands come to thread in his hair, tugging at the roots. He burrows his face lastly in your chest, snatching the nipple of one of your breasts between his teeth. “Here…”

You’re so soft and supple beneath his hands, all his to love and explore.

“I want you, all of you,” he mumbles. “Only you.”

“Oh, Koo…”

A pretty moan tumbles from your mouth, and he could nearly cry. He had surely thought you were far past the point of enraged, far past the point of pensive words shaped in a heartfelt apology to bring you back to him. But then hearing you rasp his name ━ the little cute nickname that only you call him ━ makes him so goddamn remorseful.

He smothers your lips with his once more, groaning into your mouth. “I’m such a fucking dick. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” You whine.

“I’m sorry,” he laments. He bites at your lower lip, suckling against it. “Please let me make it up to you.”

“You already have.”

“But I’ve been such a shitty friend,” he groans. It’s hard to focus when he’s pressing his hips against yours, the forming bulge in his pants straining against the inside of your thigh. “I should’ve known when to stop. I shouldn’t have even suggested the whole thing in the first place, because then I wouldn’t have messed us all up.”

“Jungkook,” Your grip tightens in his hair. “Jungkook━ I want you so bad. Just wanna be yours.”

“Yeah?” His breath is warm as it fans against your neck. You rub your core eagerly against him, throbbing pussy so close to making contact with his dick.

“Yeah,” You mewl.

“What do you want from me?”

“You. Wanna feel your dick in me, please,” Your fingers tug at the top of his jeans, prodding at the muscles on his abdomen. “In my mouth. Can make you feel better, Koo, I promise. Just wanna be your good girl.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

He lets you push him until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. Your limbs entangle with his as you shed the rest of your clothes, your own hands wandering up and down the front of his body after he’s tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then he watches as you shimmy your way down his body. You’re so zealous in pleasing him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, head angry and red, dribbling pearly beads of precum down the shaft and over the bulging vein that lines it. You run your thumb over the tip and down, spreading the sticky fluid over him. He grunts in response, nearly jolting at your touch, as his head drops back against his shoulders.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

You pump him slowly, taking you time as your closed fist glides up and down his length. He shudders each time your hand reaches the base, and becomes so carried away with your leisure teasing that his eyes are screwed shut and misses the way you dip down to kiss at the tip of his cock. His eyes immediately flutter open, a flustered expression painting his face. You lap again at the head, saltiness coating your tongue, and you let out a simpering moan that has him quivering. And when you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down along his length, he swears he’s about to fall apart. Your eyes flicker upward to meet him and the moment they lock, so sexy and dark, he has to look away for fear of busting right then and there. He reclines back against the bed once more, his hand flying out to grab at your hair.

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he rasps.

He can feel the curve of your lips against his cock as you suck him off. You do so well, too. Puffing your cheeks out, taking as much of him as you can until it feels as if he’s hitting the back of your throat. Then, you’ll suck at the tip of his cock, tongue swirling rapidly around, as your fist rubs his shaft. It’s a beautiful mix, one that inches him closer and closer to his high, and each time you switch he has to hold it together to not let go so soon. He wants to enjoy it, needs to bask in it. Your pretty mouth doing such sinful things, making him feel as if he were in heaven.

“Shit━” His hips jut forward to meet with your mouth, accidentally hitting the back of your throat without warning. You gag a little, but don’t pull away, and when he apologizes to you hastily, you only moan in response. A thought pops into his head that has him beckon aloud, “Will you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth? Huh, baby?”

You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.

So, he plants both hands in your hair, grabs at the sides of your head, and as you hollow out your cheeks, he bucks into your mouth. He does it again and again, listening to your crescendoing mewls of delight, forming a sticky mess of drool and cum that spills onto your chin.

“God, you’re so good,” Jungkook grunts. He’s a complete wreck, eyes screwing shut, blonde tresses spilling into his lashes. The muscles in his abdomen twitch with each sharp inhale of air he takes, so mesmerized by the shape of your pretty mouth around his dick, like you were made for him. “Such a good girl, huh?”

He fucks himself into your mouth roughly, frantically. Tears start to prick at your eyes from holding your breath, yet you keep yourself together just a little longer for him, lashes fluttering shut tightly.

“All mine too,” Jungkook hisses. “Wouldn’t let Yukhei do this to you, would you? Fuck, I’m━”

With your head left immobile stuck in his grasp, you hum in disapproval instead. You know he’s close when you start to hear him panting breathily. When he cums, it’s with a fractured whine and in short hot bursts onto your tongue and down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and, when he parts from you with a resonating lewd pop, you wipe away with your knuckles at the rest of his cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth and onto your chin. Dark hooded eyes meet with yours, a mischievous glint captivating them. You crawl over to him, straddling his hips once more, chasing his mouth with yours. Your own lips are so wet, coated in saliva and cum, bruised plump, but yet you’re smiling so innocently past the way he can taste himself on his tongue.

A dazed thought pops into your head that has you murmuring wistfully against him, “Say it again. I like hearing you call me baby.”

“Hmm? What about when I call you my good girl?” Jungkook nips at your lips. He grasps at your waist, flipping you over until you’re on your back beneath him. “You treat me so well, baby; you’re my only girl, you know that.”

A contented sigh sounds from you as you rut your hips in thinning desperation to meet his, so close to rubbing against his dick nestled against his thigh. He licks at his fingers hastily, reaching between the two of you to press against your clit, rubbing leisurely at the soft bundle of nerves. He’s learned how to navigate your body after months of supposed emotionless fucking, but now? Now, he felt as if his heart may just burst through his chest. Every reaction you make to his every touch ━ the needy plea to have him make you his, call you baby ━ makes him want to see more, and more.

“Am I?” You ask hoarsely. He grasps at his dick, guiding his tip to your core, so slick and wet, glistening with your own arousal. As he pushes himself in with a hiss, he watches as you contort beneath him. “Nnngh, Jungkook━”

“Fuuck,” he groans. He sinks into you, spreading your thighs further and further apart, until his hips make contact with yours. His mouth attacks yours with a feverish passion, the rumble of his moans and your whimpers muffling against one another. Then, he remembers to answer your awaiting question, barely audible between the way his tongue lavs at yours. “You are. I’m so fucking in love with you. But I don’t deserve you.”

Your hands tug impatiently at his hair. “Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true,” he hums. He’s quick to start rutting at your hips in a steady yet agonizing pace, dick burrowing into your pussy as your walls throb and shake. He can’t help but watch, mesmerized as always by the way his length slips past your folds and disappears into you. Again, and again, and again, so lewdly destroying your pretty cunt. “Just want Yukhei to touch you all over instead, don’t you?”

“No,” You croak.

You spread your thighs instinctively wider apart, allowing him to sink even further into you until it feels as if he’s hitting you so far in your stomach. Each roll of his hips is punctuated by the crude noise of skin against skin, sending you spiralling.

“Want him to do all sorts of dirty things to you, huh?”

“N-No. Fuck, Jungkook━ Harder, please━”

“That’s what you said,” Jungkook retorts. Still, he listens to your pleas, snapping his hips into yours roughly enough to send you jolting back on the bed. His hands start to roam your body, pinching at your hips, then grasping ferociously at one of your breasts. “Want him to fuck you in his car, right?” His palm feels like fire as it slides up past your collarbones to your throat. “Want him to choke you.”

His hand comes to wrap around the underside of your jaw on your throat, thumb and index finger pressing against the pressure points there. He squeezes, though with barely any force, just enough to feel your rapid pulse beneath his digits in a way that makes you so suddenly hyper aware of everything he’s doing to you. Cock stretching you wide, palm heavy around your throat, mouth folding over yours. So caught up in the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset with himself, though you suspect part of him is. You can sense it in the way he clings to you a little tighter, can see it laced within his dazzling pupils.

Jungkook huffs, hair flopping into his eyes as he grits his teeth and ruts his hips faster into you if only to see more of your pretty little reactions. Your jaw unhinges at the feeling, head falling back onto the pillows. “He could probably treat you nicer too.”

You shake your head wildly, fingers digging into the skin on his shoulders. “Just want you, Koo.”

“Still?” he asks. His grip on your neck fastens a little more, pure euphoria riddling all your senses and making you writhe beneath him. “God, you’re such a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”

You nod in your groggy exhaustion, the familiar burn coiling in your stomach, making your toes curl.

Jungkook feels your own high approach. Your walls are clenched so tightly around him, he has to sputter for air. “Could he make you feel like this?”

“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook growls. “Good girl. Gonna cum around my dick like the good little slut you are?”

Your hips ricochet upwards to meet his, relentless pounding into your core. “Please, please━”

Jungkook quickens his pace until you’ve deteriorated into absolute shambles, whimpering his name after each thrust. You tumble towards your high, cuming around his length as he burrows it into you again and again, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine. As you unravel beneath him, he slides his hand off of your throat and slithers it underneath you and around your waist, hoisting you slightly enough off the bed so that he can reach his own orgasm. He’s a little more frantic now, sloppy and restless as he pummels into you.

“Shit, baby━” he cries out. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good━”

As you come down from your high enough, you somehow manage to murmur drowsily, “Cum in me, Koo. Wanna feel it.”

You grab at his face, pulling him down to catch his lips on yours, and the thought is so tempting he can’t refuse. He gets so lost in your lips, cuming with one final slam of his hips into yours and a chorus of curses mingling with your name in whimpers. He rides out both of your highs with a few half-hearted thrusts, more concerned with kissing you in useless open-mouthed kisses as your own mouth parts with one last weary moan while he fills you up.

When he’s spent, he collapses against your chest, and you collapse onto the bed. It’s quiet long enough for the both of you to calm the shrill beat of your hearts when you feel Jungkook stir, moving to part from you, pulling his dick from your swollen pussy and planting a lingering peck on your cheek. He disappears momentarily but returns a few seconds later, towel in hand which he uses to wipe at your core now leaking with his cum and your heart croons at all his tender touches.

It makes you realize all at once that, god, yes, you’re so in love with your idiot best friend and he’s so in love with you.

“Jungkook.”

He turns to look at you, an adoring smile dancing upon his lips when he sees your own radiant beaming face. You beckon him over and he relents, letting you pull him into your arms. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he wraps his own arms around you to tug you closer to his side. As your fingers come to rake through his sweaty hair, he cranes his neck to follow your hand and hear him coo against your neck, “That feels so good.”

A sudden thought crosses your mind that has you smirking smally to yourself. “Are we… Are we cuddling? Jungkook, I thought you didn’t like cuddling. Said it was, and I quote, sentimental bullshit.”

“I never liked it because it wasn’t with you. Didn’t wanna waste my time on someone that wasn’t you,” Jungkook hums, matter-of-fact. You can tell he’s a little embarrassed at the way you so casually taunt him about such an obvious fact, though he’s fortunate you can’t see him smiling like a complete fool. “And I wanna do all that sentimental bullshit with only you. Now, shush━” He scolds you playfully. “M’so tired and I just wanna hold you tight.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Your heart leaps in your chest. “Just promise me one thing?”

It’s only then that he lifts his sleepy gaze to find yours, apprehensive of any potentially looming severity in your words. “Anything.”

Instead, all he can find is the way you trace your finger along the details of his face, from his nose, to his cheekbones, down to the freckle under his lip with the hand that sports your friendship bracelet. “In the morning, when we wake up, you’ll still be here to hold me tight. And every other morning after that.”

His smile widens even more, if that was even possible. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. But━”

“But?”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”

So, you do, again and again and again; and Jungkook thinks, yeah, he certainly can get used to this.

It takes you a month to cave in to Jungkook’s incessant pleas to fuck you to his sex playlist. You do it mostly to humour him, though part of you is a little bit intrigued at the thought.

Stowed away in his room, he eats you out to the choruses of sultry The Weeknd and raunchy Ariana Grande songs, fucks you to the likes of the Neighbourhood and Kim Petras while you’re on all fours, and you’re only half-paying attention to the music until you hear it. Admittedly, you almost completely miss it but you blame Jungkook and the way he’s making you currently feel, sprawled out beneath him, chests pressed flush against one another in a sweaty, sticky mess, breathy and glorious moans of your name filling your ears when━

“I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again━”

The dulcet chime of Alanis Morissette thrums about the room, a complete and utter shift in contrast in the atmosphere that has you immediately pausing.

“Jungkook.” But he knows what you set out to say even before you do, judging by the tone in your voice and the stifling smirk on his face. You gawk at him, biting at your lip to hide your laughter but you fail miserably. “You weren’t joking?”

He shrugs innocently, leaving you just as dumbfounded as you were two seconds ago. Instead, he says, “Gotta do what I promised then, don’t I?”

You quirk a brow. “What was that exactly?”

“Gotta give you the best orgasm of your life.”

“If you can do that to cheesy 90s pop, I’ll have your actual babies, Jungkook.” The effort is endearing and impressive, to say the least.

A roll of your eyes is met with a taunting roll of his hips into yours that wipes the jest off your face immediately. He grins like a madman, uttering a little stupidly, and a little ardently, “Say no more.”

Because, all things considered and joking aside, he wants it with you ━ the dazed daydreamy talk of a future together and kids, friendship bracelets, and cuddles in the morning. Because you mean the world to him and more. Because you’re his best friend, and he’s so madly in love with you.

Because he wants it all with you.

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[ch4nb4ng]

Evil Roommate

pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers

warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise

requested : yes!

word count 6.2k

summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.

“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”

The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.

“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”

Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.

“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”

Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.

“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”

A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?

“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”

His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”

Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.

“Who the fuck said you could touch me?

“Did you just fucking slap me?”

“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”

“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”

You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”

“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”

Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.

“Can you get to the point please?”

“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”

A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.

“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”

Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.

You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.

Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.

“Y/n?”

Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.

“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.

“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”

The arm he had around her waist made you sick.

“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.

“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”

“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”

You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.

“Uh no thanks Y/N-”

“We should all hang out!”

The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.

“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”

“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.

“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”

You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling

“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”

You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.

“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”

The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.

“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”

“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.

Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.

“Hello?”

His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.

“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”

“What do you need me to do?”

You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.

“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”

“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”

“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”

“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”

“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”

And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.

You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.

“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Y/n what are you doing-”

“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?

Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.

“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.

“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”

She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.

“Let’s play a game!”

“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.

“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”

***

Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.

“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”

Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.

“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”

“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”

“Yes you have.”

All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.

“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.

“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”

Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.

Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-

“Y/N? Y/N!”

The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.

“When?”

As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.

“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”

“I’m not saying it here in front of-”

“Who? Chaeyeon?”

Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.

“It was in the car.”

Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.

“The car?”

You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.

Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?

“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”

“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.

“Do you want this?”

“What?”

A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.

“I said, do you want this?”

“Do you?”

His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.

“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”

Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.

“Kiss me if you want me.”

He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”

You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.

“Fuck it.”

He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.

“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.

“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”

A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.

But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”

You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.

“Are you being serious right now?”

The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.

“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.

“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.

“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”

His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.

“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.

“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”

A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?

“Minho I’m-”

“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”

His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.

“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”

“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”

You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.

“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”

“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”

“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.

“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”

The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.

“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.

“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”

“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one

who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”

There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.

“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.

“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”

“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”

Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.

“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”

“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”

“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.

“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”

Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.

“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”

The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.

Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.

“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.

“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”

It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.

“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”

“You wanna cum baby?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna cum right now?”

“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.

“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”

And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.

“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.

“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”

You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.

“Why don’t you find out and see?”

[nejibaby]

Pick Up Lines

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader

Description: Kuroo Tetsuro thinks he’s quite good with pick up lines. (Spoiler: He’s really not.)

Word Count: 2.0k

Kuroo Tetsuro has a big problem.

And for the first time in so long, he isn’t sure if he or Kenma knows how to fix it.

Among the things he’s certain though is that it stemmed from him being a big dork. But he supposes it can’t be helped as it’s part of his charm. It might as well be his personality trait — a troublesome personality trait, if he may add.

This all started as a joke wherein he’d interrupt people who were flirting with you by saying cringe-worthy pick up lines.

It’s a test to see if they’re the right one, he claims, although you both know it’s a lie and that he’s doing it for fun.

But it does its job in fending off some people, especially when he doesn’t stop spouting off crazy lines after lines. Because if they can’t stand your best friend’s humor, then how the hell will they be able to last dating you?

Tetsuro takes it up a notch when you respond with your own cheesy lines, because then he knows that you don’t particularly like the company you’re with. And this drives the creeps away effectively without him having to resort to acting like a fake boyfriend or worse, to violence.

He does this everytime, but he feels a special need to do this when he sees you chatting up some guy named Iwaizumi Hajime with a breathtaking smile.

He doesn’t even get near you before you send him a glare.

Don’t you dare, you tell him with your eyes.

This makes him want to do it more, but he’d also rather not face your wrath the day after. And so he turns away and sulks.

He complains to Kenma all night, who doesn’t seem to be acknowledging his struggles. “Come on man, spare me some time and entertain me.”

Kenma only glances over him once and goes back to playing on his phone. “Just be honest with your feelings.”

Tetsuro coughs. “W-what?”

Kenma raises a brow. “You like—”

But before Kenma can say your name, Tetsuro covers his mouth. “I do not!”

Kenma rolls his eyes and slaps Tetsuro’s hand away. “Whatever.”

Now this is Tetsuro’s problem. Kenma is always right, because he doesn’t come to a conclusion before gathering enough evidence, therefore, if Kenma tells him that he likes a certain someone, then best believe it’s 99.99% correct.

So… he may possibly like you (just a little bit, he tries to convince himself). And this might be the reason why he may have felt a stinging sensation the longer he looks your way and finds you still conversing (and laughing!) with that guy.

The thing is that the more he focuses on his problem and the more he tries to find a way out of it, the more his problem branches out.

Sure, he can totally ignore his feelings and just act like it doesn’t exist in the first place. But wouldn’t that be cowardly? This problem may make Kuroo Tetsuro weak on his knees but he’s no coward. He’d rather fess up and get rejected than to spend sleepless nights wondering about what ifs.

It takes a loud enough giggle from you to break his thoughts. And then he realizes: holy shit, I’m going way overboard with these thoughts.

He knows he need not admit his feelings for you right away, but then again he hates keeping secrets from you because it weighs him down.

He hears an imaginary clock ticking in his mind and then thinks, ah, perhaps he can actually do it. He can always say it nonchalantly and drop it to you casually with a “You know, I used to have a crush on you.”

Keywords: used to. As if his feelings are a thing of the past. It’s a white lie he deems necessary.

And while a whole lot of teasing would likely proceed after that line, he supposes he can handle that for the sake of your friendship.

What he didn’t expect is how you refused to believe him when he told you about it.

“No way, Tetsu,” you snort. “I know your type and I’m literally the opposite of it. Stop playing around.”

Technically, he should be happy that he’s able to unload this information off of his shoulders without ruining your friendship. In an ideal world, he would have let you believe whatever you wanted to believe and then move on. But your reaction — oddly — makes him motivated to prove you wrong. Whether this is rooted from your past academic rivalry with him or not, he isn’t sure. He’s just really determined to make you believe.

Like coming full circle, he convinces himself that going for pick up lines is the way to go because

It’s familiar territory for the both of you, and

He actually believes he’s quite adept at it. (He’s really not, but no one has ever told him that. And even if someone did, he wouldn’t believe them because through these pick up lines, he’s able to make you sport a smile.)

The opportunity presents itself when he finds you sitting alone in the cafe you frequent, reading a book. And he tells himself, Go big or go home.

You look up from your book when he starts getting close to your table. Before he can sit beside you, he starts rubbing his right eye with a frown (even though it actually looks like a pout) and he says, “I think there’s something wrong with my eyes.”

You glance at your book, probably to memorize the page you’re at, and bring it down.

Kuroo Tetsuro didn’t get to process what exactly happened next because you’ve moved so swiftly and took on the role of a mother hen. Hence the next thing he knew, you have one hand on his wrist and another on his cheek. You’re pulling him closer to you and you’re leaning in at the same time.

And then he sees you checking his right eye. He’s not sure what you’re looking for, but he lets you do it — although not without him feeling his blood rushing to his face.

He barely registers you saying, “You shouldn’t rub it so violently,” and asking, “What happened? How does it feel?”

He internally panics because he just can’t think straight with you being so close. For a split second he considers abandoning his original motive so he could just remain like this with you.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls back slightly, close enough that your hands are still on his cheek and wrist, but far enough that he can function properly. “I think there’s something wrong with my eyes,” he repeats, staring straight at you.

And then he says, “Because they can only seem to focus on you.”

He watches with bated breath as you blink owlishly at him. And suddenly, you’re retracting your hands, and you’re looking behind you.

He sees you look around the vicinity twice and quite frankly, he’s a little bit confused by it.

“Where are they?” You blurt after doing your little environment check.

“Who?”

You give him a pointed look. “Tetsu, you only ever say things like that when someone flirts with me.”

“What? I can’t be the one to do it this time?” He teases you.

Kuroo Tetsuro may think he’s quite adept at throwing pick up lines, but if anything, he’s actually better at playing things off as nothing more than jokes.

On the surface, he seems to be just messing with you as he gives you a teasing smile and an over exaggerated wink, but in reality, he’s about to go out of control. And as one of his best friends, he knows you’d know right away that he’s driving himself mad trying to get a reaction out of you.

But before you can scrutinize him, your phone buzzes. And so you turn your focus to it. And just like that, the moment passes.

His disappointment is palpable, not only because he didn’t get what he aimed for but also because he caught a glimpse of the person who just contacted you.

Iwaizumi Hajime.

That guy. Again.

The disappointment quickly morphs into annoyance because how dare Iwaizumi Hajime ruin such a critical moment. It could have been a turning point in your friendship! But his effort goes down the drain because of a single message.

“Oya? You’re chatting with that guy?” He asks.

“You mean Hajime-kun?”

Kuroo Tetsuro fails to stop his eyebrow from twitching. And he thinks: First name basis already, huh?

Before he can comment on it though, you’re already saying, “Yeah, we’re friends.”

In a different universe, he should be relieved that you’re just friends with the guy. But… how can he celebrate that fact when he himself is also just a friend to you?

Acid fills his guts because of his thoughts. But before he can even dive deeper into them, Kenma appears.

Quite frankly, Tetsuro is surprised, because Kenma rarely ever goes out of his cove, choosing to stay at home. He’s a homebody through and through. And yet here he is.

What’s more shocking is that Kenma announces lunch is on him after he eyed Tetsuro. Well, it’s not that Kenma never picks up the tabs, it’s just that when Tetsuro is involved, he very much prefers not to.

But it seems like right now he could sense something wrong with his best friend, and for that, Tetsuro is grateful for Kenma. This eases him up and effectively helps him in pushing the unnecessary thoughts away.

And just like that, the box of Iwaizumi Hajime closes once again. And Kuroo Tetsuro does not have any intention of opening it up (unless you do, but that’s a story for another time.)

So he focuses on his pickup lines instead, and his effort doesn’t go to waste. With this decision, he’s the happiest, especially when you have your own response to them — may it be a sarcastic remark or a simple snort, he takes it all in stride.

“You look so familiar. Didn't we take a class together? I could've sworn we had chemistry.”

That’s so lame. I think I’ve heard that thousands of times already.

“Is your name Google? Because you have everything I've been searching for.”

And maybe you’re a pop-up ad, because you’re so annoying.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put I and U together.”

Maybe there’s a reason why you couldn't do that, Tetsu.

“You and I are like nachos with jalapeños. I’m super cheesy, you’re super hot, and we belong together.”

Okay, not gonna lie, I actually like that. Finally something good!

And while there’s a lot more bickering and teasing that happens in these exchanges, there’s one particular moment that stands out.

Every now and then Kuroo Tetsuro replays the scenario in his head. Although it wasn’t an ideal situation in any way, it was the cause of the deeper relationship you have with him now.

He recalls it happened during a rainy day. He was on his way home from work but he decided at the last minute to drop by the quaint little coffee shop that you made him love. He only wanted to take home some cookies and a cup of coffee that day, yet those weren’t the only things he went home with.

That day, he went home with you. A worn out, defeated, crying mess version of yourself to be exact.

You were a little bit out of it from the stress of your day by day life. Your eyes were glazed and you were in a daze, and initially, he just couldn’t get through you.

But when he did, it was all thanks to his very cringeworthy (yes, he acknowledges that it was indeed cringeworthy) pick up line that helped him to get you to snap out of your spiraling thoughts and to get you into his car.

As much as he hates the pick up line he used, he doesn’t think he’d be able to forget it at all, not when it helped him get to you. Besides, he doesn’t think you’d ever let him live it down. How could you, when it goes like, “Are you a long structure used to restrict the flow of water across rivers and underwater streams? Because daaaaaaaaam!”

Crazy, right?

That’s Kuroo Tetsuro for you. And that’s how he’ll always be. Just for you.

Iwaizumi Hajime be damned.

a/n: ngl i really love their dynamic and i enjoyed writing this even though it took me weeks! ksdjdjfh it would be great if you let me know your thoughts about this <3

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

hi! can u make a victor imagine based on the song dress by taylor swift?? tysm <3

Take It Off

A/N: Okay so I know I said I wasn’t going to do explicit smut again (and I’m standing by that for the time being), however, I feel like this is going to be really fun! Thank you for the request!

Warnings: mild mention is sickness, extremely suggestive actions, thoughts, descriptions :))))

Tag List: @xtrippydragonx, @super-unpredictable98, @frillymacaron, @sourdiac, @caleecullen, @amidclla

Victor really isn’t the type of man to be overly suggestive, or touchy feely. As well as that, he really doesn’t overtly show his attraction, especially not in public.

However, tonight was a completely different situation.

The weeks beforehand ended up leading you two to have an extreme lack of intimacy. Victor was constantly busy, between his work and setting everything up for your anniversary. He wanted everything to be in order. He made sure that he got a really lovely dress for you, custom made at the best tailor in town. He made sure that the flowers were perfect in meaning and arrangement. Victor made visit after visit to the venue, making sure that they had the right time, and decorations. He really went out. This, however, caused him a grand amount of anxiety and stress.

“No, I said pink roses. Not mink, NO!” was yelled throughout the house on a Monday.

“The horses don’t matter, but a foal won’t do because we’re two full grown adults!” happened on another.

You were doing work nonstop, and rarely ever found time to just take a break.

Even weekends were chock-full of necessary tasks.

The week in the leadup to the anniversary, however, ended being the most stressful.

Victor unfortunately ended up falling sick, with a cough and fever. He could barely keep anything down, and claimed to be in a constant state of dizziness. It was a given that he was bed-ridden for the week, and you had to go back and forth to each store to get the orders correct, and make sure everything was in place. Between going back home to take care of Victor, your own work, and the stores, everything was getting extremely overwhelming.

However, the only thing that kept you sane during this was the fact that you two would get a solid break for a few days, and just spend time together. It gave you a lot of time (well not a lot, but some) to go back, and think about how the two of you met. You were walking around town, and in a library, you ended up dropping your book, the original “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”. Your parents wanted to have you reading more realistic titles, but it gave you an escape from the world, which seemed to constantly be on your heels. Victor gave the book back to you, but not before doing the classic “Oh, you read this book too!”. You two hit it off instantly.

Although his parents wanted him to marry another person, his heart was set on you. They still disapproved of his choice, but upon seeing how happy their son was, they mentioned their displeasure less and less. There were all thoughts going through your head while traveling from place to place.

Fortunately for the two of you, about two days before the big day, Victor started improving drastically, and one morning, when you woke up to check on him, he was already up and looking through his work copies. He said he felt fine, and after checking his temperature and calling the doctor for good measure, you dropped your guard. The last two 48 hours came and went quicker than you were expecting them to, and soon enough, the smell of fresh cologne, and the clink of beads tapping against each other filled the house.

“Dearest, it’s about time for us to head out. Are you decent?” Victor said, after rapping his knuckles on the door of the bedroom. He chose to get ready in the bathroom, as your dress had plenty of layers, and steps to get it on properly, and he didn’t want to see the dress until you two were outside.

“Yes, just about! I’ll be out in a few minutes.” you reply, putting an earring on. You were really happy with Victor’s effort with everything in the last few weeks. He was always one to go all out, but this really blew you away.

You opened the door, and Victor had his eyes closed, with an arm out for you to take. He led you down the stairs, and out the door, before opening his eyes. His eyes gleamed with nothing but happiness, and motioned for you to do a spin.

“You look wonderful dear! I knew what it was going to look like color-wise, but you just look amazing.” he said. You didn’t notice at the time, but Victor covered his crotch area, as his fashion decisions appeared to be good in both visual and hormonal ways.

The two of you arrived to the venue in a horse-drawn carriage (as per Victor’s request). He wanted to take the scenic route, so you two went through town, by all of the shops, and the fountain located downtown. The entire time, Victor held you close, chin on your head. It was just the two of you in the carriage, as the driver was focused on the road, as he should’ve been. Victor really usually didn’t get really touchy-feely, especially not in public, but this was the exception. He’d been so tired for the past few days, and barely got quality time with you. He made sure he got all that he needed.

When you two arrived at the venue, Victor led you out of the carriage, like a proper gentleman. He put a blindfold over your eyes to keep everything hidden from your view. Even though you knew what the venue looked like, Victor changed a lot of things, and tailored it to your liking. You two walked several more feet before he stopped you. Victor took the blindfold off of your face, and waited for your vision to adjust to the light.

You were in awe at what he prepared. Your mouth gaped open at the beauty of everything, and you looked in wonder. There were lightbulbs arranged in such a beautiful way, the first time you’d ever seen that many in one place. You’ve thought about getting the house readjusted with electricity, but it was too expensive for you two. There was even a small radio playing music in the corner. Victor was also holding a small picnic basket, and there was a blanket down for you two to sit down on.

“Victor you’ve really outdone yourself. I’m going to have to do something really nice for you next year then.” you say, grabbing a fresh strawberry, and eating it.

“Oh, that’s really not necessary. You being in my company is a gift enough, dearest.” he says, sitting down next to you. The two of you eat together in peace, listening to the noises of the night.

About an hour passes by, and the two of you gather everything in a hurry.

“I almost forgot about the play altogether. Come, grab my hand. I wouldn’t want your dress to become dirty.” Victor says, pulling you along quickly. Thankfully, it was an extremely short ways away, and a bit of running really got your adrenaline going.

You two rushed in, and entered the theater doors just in time. You find your seats, and as the play begins, your attention is averted to the front stage. You seemed to lean forward in your seat, completely in the zone.

Victor’s mind is trying to focus on it as well, and it was for a good hour, but he got too distracted. It began to wonder back to places he only went when he was alone, and you were having long nights writing, or before he’d gotten to properly courting you, and had dreams. He dreaded telling his parents of the random stains on his sheets, and why the drains kept seemingly getting clogged. They wanted to call plumbers, but it seemed that the second it was mentioned to Victor, the problem was fixed automatically. Except, of course, the next time it happened.

It had been a while since you two had been intimate, and it seemed to really be impacting him. Not emotionally, of course, but he missed long nights with you. In the bathtub, having to clean water that spilled over the edges, or taking a few minutes out of your day to sneak under your new wooden desk. It all just seemed so...precious to him. Victor found that he missed that.

The cheeky looks, and the feverish moments you two spent together. He craved that feeling again, and wondered if you felt the same. He was still much too shy to talk about his true desires, so he just did them instead, or uttered them in an aroused stupor, almost begging for your attention.

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation My hands are shaking from holding back from you (ah, ah, ah)

He kept thinking about you in your dress. Not that he made it for naughty purposes, but he never really expected for it to impact him this way. He felt slightly guilty about thinking of taking his wife against a wall, and . However, it was best for him to think of these things now, and express it later at home. Or, based on his current level of arousal, in a restroom somewhere.

The play’s intermission was just ending when you noticed Victor’s reddened pallor. You gently touched his cheek, taking a glove off to check his temperature.

“Are you feeling alright, Victor? You look feverish dear. Could it be your illness coming back?” you asked, looking him in the eyes.

“No dear, I’m fine. I think I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have you. I thought of some of our more tender moments.” he whispered back. As a final measure, he took your hand off of his cheek gently, and kissed it.

“Alright. If you feel any different, let me know, okay. Your health is a lot more important than our anniversary. Especially not more important than a play I can see for the next fortnight.” you said, smiling at him before turning your attention back to the play, which was starting its second act.

Victor breathed a silent sigh of relief, and he got back to his thoughts, no matter how inappropriate for a social setting. He was grateful for the small paper given as a description for the play. It was doing more than enough to hide his erection, and he was grateful for it. He knew that if he was to be caught, he may be kicked from town. Although, the situation would be much more worse had it been you having these thoughts about him. It would be much harder to catch you in public, rather than him.

He looked back to you, and saw how wide your eyes are with wonder. He knew how much your passions meant to you. Nothing could compare to seeing you so enthralled with what was going on. You would be talking about it for weeks to come, he was sure of it. You’d be sure to go into your new works with a fire unmatched. Not one thing got you going like a nice, long play with plot thick enough to cut through. Given how Victor had been seeing you for past few weeks, hunched over your desk, punching letter after letter into your typewriter, this was a vast improvement. He could count the lashes on your face if he wanted to. You were just that still. Nothing would compare to seeing you so happy. Victor zoned out for another moment, and set his eyes on the play, so it wasn’t obvious that his mind was elsewhere.

“Victor dear, it’s time to go.” you said, gently shaking his shoulder. He was much worse off than he’d begun. This time, it may not get past you.

“Hmm? Oh yes, dear. I must’ve zoned out again.” he replied, standing up carefully, as to not fumble his “situation”.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You look even more red than beforehand.” you said, even more concerned.

“I’m fine dear.” he said, leaning into your ear “I did lie earlier. I’m not sickly, not in the least. But I’ve been having the most sinful of thoughts. I’m quite simply aroused. I just want to ravish you. Slowly, intimately, and carefully.” he whispered, straightening his back out.

You had close to no reply. Mouth shut, paper grasped firmly in your hand. You only had a few words to say in response.

“Once we get home, it’s on.”

And on it was. You’d never seen Victor’s hands move so quickly to open the door before, not even when the neighbor’s cat had gotten loose, and was chasing after him. As soon as the door was unlocked, you and Victor tumbled in, and he had you against the wall, mouth dangerously close to yours. You two kicked your shoes off, and made your way up the steps. Victor pushed the bedroom door open and held you against him. He kissed along your neck. You were sure that the neighbors would be long asleep, but based on the noises emitted from your throat, it may not last long.

“Oh, I’d hate to ruin your dress.” Victor whispered, trying to catch his breath.

“Oh, Victor dear.” you mumbled, looking him in the eye. “I bought this dress just so you could take it off. Do your worst dearest. I’ve got a sewing kit for a reason.”

Only bought this dress so you could take it off Take it off (ha, ha, ha)

Victor spent the night in what could’ve been considered a complete rampage of waning hormones and feelings. He couldn’t recall so much of the evening beforehand, because all of his tasks were centered around you. Hearing you make this noise, getting that shade of purple on your neck. Your thoughts, on the other hand, were filled with nothing but him. How he felt trembling in your arm, nape wet from sweat. How his hands held you in place as he grasped your hips, firm enough to keep you in place.

He was sure the world began and ended with your head and toes. No other image could match the one he saw before him, say after day, night after night. However, that talk would have to wait. He’s much to pre-occupied with other tasks to give much care.

It was a night full of passion, and nothing but love for the other. That was why you married him. Not because it was “made to be”. Because nothing else on the planet could compare to the feeling of him being that vulnerable in front of you. Absolutely nothing could, and you’d perish valiantly on the hill, if necessary. He was everything to you, and you were the same to him. No amount of money, or persuasion could change that.

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