#and it would be more concerning if they DID fit

[thatonewriter15]

Oh, my gossssssssssh. I am in love with this fic and him!

Okay, this girl's got a lot to point out. Please bare with me. xD

No matter how he fought it down, a small tinge of worry, and the beginnings of disappointment churned in his gut. His brows furrowed. Did you regret it already?

My stomach actually sank.

“We take it day by day,” he’d told you, with a sizzling kiss that stole your breath. “All I know is…this feels good.”

Controlled breathing was necessary. But also, I feel like there were some great layers here. Dean allowing himself to feel good? And not just for one night. Admitting it and actually pursuing more? Yessssss. He deserves that.

Him sleeping better with her next to him--a classic. Never gets old. <3

What’s more, after years of looking into your eyes and seeing all the possibilities of what if, he was finally getting to make those images solid, and real. He could touch them, taste them, feel them under his calloused hands. He finally had you for real.

This whole paragraph was beautiful. Also, it was a moment where, if someone simply handed it to me with no other context, I would know it was yours. It felt like you.

Her rings being such an identifier was a great detail that fit so well with the reveal at the end. Smart, smart writing!

His disappointment was settling high in his chest now; an ache approaching pain.

More stomach sinking.

“What’s this?” you whispered, swiping two fingers between the crunch in his brows.

Loved this! Definitely have had something similar in my head while daydreaming. A little sassy, but mostly lovingly concerned. (Again, so very you.)

“When I woke up, I saw one fell off the nightstand. Have a feeling it had something to do with the bedframe knocking against it." At that, Dean couldn’t contain his lazy smirk.

My stomach was doing something different this time. LMAO.

The end of the first section--how he still had questions but just decided to trust her and her judgment. Brilliant. And proved that he really is ready for more.

And in that first section, I simply could not figure out what she was off doing or what it meant for them. The reveal was as satisfying as the guessing. That might actually be my favorite part of this piece--the fact that I could not figure out where it was going. But also, she spent her early morning baking him a pie? My heart got gooier than its filling! =']

And it just got better from there. He forgot his own birthday? OUCH. His emotion over her gesture? Love, love, love. And their use of touch? So tender and sweet.

So, yeah, I was a fan of this one. xD<3

Restless Nights

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.

AN: As promised, here's a bonus one-shot to follow Maybe More Than Enough, though it can be read as a stand-alone. This is based on a request from @lacilou, one of my lovely Patreon members!

Bonus! It fulfills the @spnfanficpond monthly prompt. (Can’t give it away until the end though!)

Request: A Dean story based on the song “I Remember You” by Skid Row.

Word Count: 1.2K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, fluff, implied mentions of sex, bit of a twist ending… 

Dean woke to the sound of pouring rain hitting the roof of the bunker.

It must’ve been some torrential downpour, because it took a lot for him to hear anything of the outside world from inside this place. Good thing the old heaters kept out the January cold, too. Nothing worse than frigid rain.

Blearily he cracked his eyes open, unearthed an arm from where it was tucked under his pillow, and carefully raised his phone to check the time, trying not to let the light from the screen burn his retinas in the still dark room.

4:00 a.m.

He groaned. Goddamn it.

He turned over onto his other side to face where you should’ve been lying next to him. He frowned when he saw nothing but the sheets pulled back and a dented, empty pillow.

No matter how he fought it down, a small tinge of worry, and the beginnings of disappointment churned in his gut. His brows furrowed.

Did you regret it already?

After his first make out session with you (turned more session) in the backseat of his Baby, you two struck a tentative agreement to figure what this could be—more than hunting partners, allies, and friends. Despite the fact that you kissed him first (a fact he didn’t easily let you forget), afterwards, you’d been a little hesitant about what came next.

“We take it day by day,” he’d told you, with a sizzling kiss that stole your breath. “All I know is…this feels good.”

It felt right. You had definitely agreed with that.

Dean sighed through his nose, turning back onto his other side. It wasn’t unusual for him to be a light (restless) sleeper, but the handful of times you’d joined him in his bed had been beginning to make his nights calmer. He was actually starting to sleep through until morning.

What’s more, after years of looking into your eyes and seeing all the possibilities of what if, he was finally getting to make those images solid, and real. He could touch them, taste them, feel them under his calloused hands. He finally had you for real.

He looked past your empty spot in his bed and didn’t see your phone, or any of your rings on the nightstand. They were the first things you put on in the morning, and the last things you took off at night.

If those were gone…

His disappointment was settling high in his chest now; an ache approaching pain.

Until he heard the light sound of bare feet padding back toward the bed. Your hand slid gently up his arm, and after the surprise wore off, the corners of his lips tugged upwards. Your hair was a bit wild and frizzy. It tickled his neck and shoulder when you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“What’s this?” you whispered, swiping two fingers between the crunch in his brows. Dean relaxed with a small smile.

“Nothin’,” he claimed. His voice was deep and rough with sleep. “Had an appointment to get to or something?”

You smiled and settled into bed, embracing him from behind. He turned onto his back and welcomed you over, with an arm curling around your waist. He rested his hand on yours when it smoothed across his chest.

Subtly glancing down, he didn’t find any of the silver you wore on the daily, including the ring with a small turquoise stone he’d bought you a couple weeks ago, on a hunt in Denver. That one, you now almost never took off.

“I put them away in a drawer,” you said, wiggling your fingers under his hand. Your hand felt dry, and a little like you'd been handling something dusty. Had you been up reading in the library again, lost track of time? “When I woke up, I saw one fell off the nightstand. Have a feeling it had something to do with the bedframe knocking against it.”

At that, Dean couldn’t contain his lazy smirk.

“My bad,” he said, sounding anything but sorry.

You laughed, shaking your head. You still laid a kiss below his shoulder before you settled back down. He gave your waist a gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss of his own to your forehead. A deep breath fell from between his lips, and his eyes closed.

A question was on the tip of his tongue. Where you were, why you got up. Was it something he could help with? Or was it one of those moments you needed to have alone, not unlike the times you gave him to settle with his thoughts, after a hunt gone sideways. If it was important, you’d level with him, wouldn’t you?

So he let it be.

In the morning, you somehow once again managed to get out of bed without him feeling it. He didn’t hear you either. Curiosity led him down the hall and glancing inside the cracked door of Sam’s room. It was empty, his running shoes gone from the side of his bed. Dean rolled his eyes.

All right, Lance.

Oh, wait, that was biking. …Whatever.

Dean’s next path inevitably took him down to the kitchen. His stomach was already percolating—in need of good coffee and (hopefully) good food.

The smell wafting from the kitchen surprised him, however. Cinnamon apples?

He turned the corner, and there he found you.

The fuck?

You looked a bit of a mess. Your hair was thrown up into a haphazard bun, and you’d stolen his apron. Though in his eyes, you made it look better, the white fabric hugging around your curves like you were Rachel Ray or something. You were frazzled when he came downstairs, but happy to see him. You beckoned him over and sat him down at the small kitchen table.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on here?” he asked, eying you curiously.

“Just stay there!” you called from the kitchen. He heard you opening the oven, cursing when you nearly dropped something.

What the hell were you doing baking before 9:00 a.m.?

He turned to ask you what was going on (and if you needed help), but before the words could come out of his mouth, you came over and carefully set down the pie in front of him. The rich aroma, the golden flaky crust, the flecks of cinnamon and glossy apples peeking out from the divots in said crust—it all had Dean’s mouth watering, and his shocked gaze fixed on the shiny pastry.

He startled a little when he felt your hands on his shoulders, sliding part of the way down his arms. You kissed the side of his head.

“Thought I wouldn’t remember, did you?” you teased. “Happy Birthday, baby.”

Dean’s throat constricted. He tried not to show it, but your gaze gentled when he finally met yours, like you were seeing through all his layers anyway. He realized then what you were probably working on last night, and he really couldn’t fucking believe it.

He’d forgotten his own birthday. Couldn’t see much use in celebrating, when year after crappy year…

But he closed a hand over yours on his shoulder, and he brought your hand to his lips.

Every word he couldn’t yet say to you was etched in that single gesture.

AN: Short and angsty sweet! lol And the monthly prompt was "pie!" 🥧 For Dean of course. 😂

Hope you guys enjoy this one! 💜

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[verdantwyrm]

On that topic though, I would like to touch more on the subject of Jimmy being also a victim to himself. I fear this might anger a lot of people, but Jimmy is an almost exact perfect example of someone with BPD (As someone with it myself) and how his spiralling is directly tied to Curly.

The game never once insinuates that Jimmy is like this because he's mentally ill, the line of him having it "hard" back on earth doesn't mean anything either, but it also means a lot coming from Curly. Curly is a representative of a Favorite person, and everything Jimmy did in the game, who he hurt, how he did it and the language he used, is very close to how real-life people with BPD sometimes treat their own FPs and the people around them.

They become erratic, jealous, driven by fear, apologetic, desperate and cling to everything and everything. Jimmy insults Curly, twists his words and makes him out the be the villain, he drives everyone away from him at the birthday party and spends months feeding lies to the others that Curly is the one that crashed the ship despite this lie not actually really benefitting Jimmy all that much in the long run.

Jimmy wanted to kill everyone on the ship, he could have lied and instead said that it was simply a fault of the ship, a miscalculation, an accident. Instead, he took every opportunity to make Curly out to be the one who ultimately decided that this was the best way to go about it, and then also blamed it on Curly's mental health dropping after being fired.

This is all extremely elaborate, and a very difficult lie to keep up with, as almost everyone on that ship has plenty of reasons to believe otherwise that Curly didn't crash the ship. What with Anya's psych eval of him being "the same as usual" and being sane enough to continue doing his job. Anya also trusted Curly enough to tell him about the pregnancy, and to also tell him about the gun. And even though it's not very well expressed in the game (possibly intentional since we are seeing through Jimmy's eyes.) She does trust Curly, and she probably continued to trust him even when all was wrong around her.

And Daisuke also has no real reason to distrust Curly, we don't know much about their relationship, but there was definitely a sense of trust and reliability between the both of them. This is also evident through Swansea and Curly, where Curly trusts him enough to hold onto the axe, despite being told to return it to the case as everything has to constantly run through him. He was taking risks, he was terrified of being abandoned, left behind in Curly's shadow. He was having fits of rage, outbursts of suicidal thoughts and harm to himself and to those around him.

Jimmy twisted and kept twisting that knife in an attempt to turn away everyone from Curly even when he was at his lowest to isolate and to make him cling to the only thing he had left; Jimmy.

This adds even more to Curly's eventual condition, being completely reliant on Jimmy, being completely subject to his will and power. And something that he even admitted to liking, he likes power. And he likes that the circumstances given, might not have turned out the best way, it gave Jimmy that power over Curly. Something he had been climbing for a long time, and something he so desperately wanted because he was sick and tired of hearing just how fantastic he was at something Jimmy wasn't.

And yet, despite all of this, Jimmy praised Curly. He hated how much he adored him, hated how much he idolised him. And even at the end of it all, his main focus was just Curly, making him out to be the hero of the story despite spending such a long time attempting to make him out to be the villain.

And then even further to make the situation out to be that he was also the hero of the story, that all of his actions were justified to some degree because it was all for Curly. He fixed it, he fixed everything for Curly. Because despite what he did to Anya, Swanse and Daisuke, his only real concern behind all of it was Curly.

Every hallucination leads to him, every goal, every path. He was so concerned with him, that even when it was directly in his face, the only apology he ever muttered was to Curly. Using Anya's words.

Our worst moments don't make us monsters.

Jimmy is a victim of only himself and the consequences of his own actions, and he is by far one of the better, unintentional examples of BPD.

[minerpore]

so, finally deciding to share this with more people- (how long has this post waited in drafts? for a while fof sure-)

Monster4 be upon ye or smth nxhcjcjyd

yes, another AU-

basicaly, the idea is simple..

what if during IGBP the demonic keyboard not only posessed 4, but also corrupted his physical form?

(hchfgg gotta love how i basicaly kinda gave him the Rot, from Rain World-)

(i still haven't figured out how to draw leggies shaped like that, forgive me-)

have some hug art!

also i guess it (the art) partially inspired me to write a fic bit heh

(tags to give this ficlet? content warnings?: hurt/comfort, mentions of body horror? i'm not sure if it's a fitting tag [please let me now if it is or not], smg34, slightly suggestive if you squint i guess, brief thinking about eating someone)

***

How long it has been since the It's Gotta Be Perfect incident?

Weeks? Days? Months??

Four didn't bother to count.

All that time blurred into one thing anyways, a period of constant guilt and shame.

He couldn't even look at his reflection anymore.

He was a monster.

Literally.

That cursed keyboard not only took control over him back then, its powers managed to corrupt his physical form.

And it did not fade away, not even after the castle went down.

It hurt like a bitch when his legs deformed, thick tentacles sprouted from his back..

The claws were the least of his concern, unlike those strange cysts with "x"s on their surface.

They invaded most of the left half of his face, he also found out some have grown at the tip of his tail, and on his back..

Not to mention what happened to his-

No, he doesn't want to think about THAT.

The corrupted guardian had isolated himself from everyone, afraid of seeing them look at him in disgust (at least he imagined they would, and he wouldn't blame them..)

A loud growl snapped the youtuber from his thoughts.

He was so hungry.

He was ashamed to admit that his appetite could now rival Mario's(!)

Suddently his good ear registered the sound of approaching footsteps.

Four turned around to see his ex-enemy, partner.. Three.

Oh how nice and plump the guardian in purple looked, imagine just how delicious he'd taste-

WHAT THE-

Smg4 was terrified by himself, how could he have such a thought about his friend?! How disgusting of him..!

The guardian in blue quickly moved away, not wanting to risk him giving in to those thoughts.

His stomach hurt, and he began to feel nauseous.

Three stepped forward to get closer to the other man.

"What's going on dumbass? And don't pretend everything's fine, can't fool our cosmic link." the streamer said, avoiding eye contact. "Not like I care or anything! I just don't want the crew to constantly bother me over this!" a noticable blush formed on his cheeks in the typical Tsundere fashion.

Before Four could reply he got hit with another wave of nausea. Three either noticed or felt that, as it caused him to look back at his partner. "Dude, did you eat some weird mushrooms or something? You look like you're about to puke your guts out-"

The smg in blue chuckled weakly. "Nah, can't get sick from some bad food if you haven't eaten anything to begin with" he attempted to turn this whole situation into a joke. That's what he used to be good at, right? Making people laugh at dumb humor?

Smg3's eyes widen in shock, certainly not finding that amusing at all.

"Four, when was the last time you ate anything..?" He asked, fearing the answer.

The corrupted guardian gulped nervously. "Last time..? I think it was when I locked myself in my room.."

Three sighed in dissapointment, pinching the bridge of his nose, his tail swishing in annoyance.

"Of course... Alright scrub, wait here, I'm getting you some proper meal. And I won't take 'no' for an answer!"

Four only nodded lightly, he didn't plan on leaving anyways.

And so he waited, scrolling through his phone in the meantime.

After a solid while the guardian in purple returned, carrying big bags of food.

Smg4 watched as his partner took all the contents out, setting them down so Four would't have to dig through the bags.

The guardian in blue and white rushed towards the food, soon devouring it like a starving animal. However he did notice Three looking at him with a certain kind of hunger in his eyes.

But it was a brief moment, as Smg3 quickly turned away from him once he saw Four's gaze and picking up a burger for himself.

Once satiated the youtuber sighed in content, laying on his side (as he found it uncomfortable to lay on his back now, due to the tentacles).

Ohh it felt great to have a full stomach like that.

"Four, I.." Three started.

The streamer sat down not far away from his partner. "Look, I know how it feels like to have your body corrupted, mashed with whatever eldrich shit that keybo-" he was suddently cut of by the guardian in blue.

"BUT THIS IS DIFFRENT! YOU ACTUALLY GOT YOUR NORMAL BODY BACK! Meanwhile I'M stuck as this.. abomination!"

Three moved in front of his soulmate, then cupped his right cheek.

"Four, listen to me. I don't find you disgusting in this form, alright?? You're actually kinda hot- WHO SAID THAT-" The guardian in purple quickly covered his mouth to avoid saying more (TOTALLY UNTRUE) things (he DID NOT!) think about 4!

The corrupted guardian looked at him wide-eyed.

"What I MEANT to say is-! It could have been worse! Like, you didn't become a twig or something-" Smg3 attempted to "correct" himself.

Smg4's body tensed up as he felt arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug.

The feeling of Smg3's warm body touching his brought him a sense of comfort.

"Four, I... Remember what I said? We're friends.. So what if you look diffrent now? It's not like we never got redesigned! So what if you have those kinda goopy.." Three swallowed hard before continuing "Thick tentacles..? So what if you're.. the way you are now.."

The corrupted guardian felt tears form in his eye.

"I'm not leaving your side, whether you like it or not.." Smg3 said with a fond smile on his face. "And that's a threat!~"

[cryptid-killjoy]

Good memories seemed to be a theme this Halloween, not frights, or jump scares, and horror movies. No. It was a theme. It didn't just seem. Valerie didn't mind. All the memories were wrapped up in costumes and dresses. Valerie felt good memories' warmth every which way she turned all evening. This whole season would be a delight for her actually. Whether it started with on pins and needles or not. This was perfect as far as she was concerned from rewriting over more old memories that could use a boost to reliving some of the best that refuse to be forgotten. What a magical season it would forever remain in her mind. Every step along the path to the car made her feel as light as a Winehouse song in her heart. She loved how floaty she felt right now.

Then the way Eeyore's face lit up seeing her husband's felt like sipping some of her gifted tea customized just for her by his sophisticated tastes. All she could do was smile as the pair conversed for a short moment. Another moment in time gone by. Another story's end finally known. Eeyore was waddling around Feral, possibly the Forbidden Forest of Hundred Acre Wood, maybe around the Nevers? He was still donkey boy-ing around with his emo bangs quiet as ever minding his own business like always, even after death in his ghost state. It was so fitting, probably trailing after Pan barely keeping up 20 feet behind looking for his glasses or his tail depending on his form, like nothing ever happened. So, so fitting.

“It’s snowing still. And freezing. However, we haven’t had a hurricane lately.” Eeyore would say with some lift of his spirits actually looking on the bright side in his Eeyore-type way. So, maybe Thomas was right? Eeyore was in good spirits in spirit form and that did count for something.

But that Eeyore in him couldn't stop himself from saying, "What goes up must come down."

Valerie looked over to Thomas and slipped her arm around his waist under his jacket line. "That sounds perfect. Until next time, Eeyore." She gave him a little wave as they turned to keep going not truly taking in what the donkey had said until they stepped fully out the doors.

Snow? For real.

It wasn't just an autumn chill out there. There was snow out there. Her eyes were catching it just as she leaned into whisper, "Please make sure those hips must come down on me tonight." She was making a little joke of Eeyore's passive gloom when the snow popped her head right back up.

"Oh my. Wow." Her mouth hung open at the sight around them as every hair rose along with goose bumped skin and the shiver she hadn't expected. She shimmied her head at the sight because there was no way that was natural. "Someone's doing maaaaaagick."

"How fun."

She didn't know why, and she honesty didn't care. What she knew was it was awesomely great power and that was always impressive. She couldn't help but give a little head nod of thrill towards it. She loved that magic shit. Not to mention it wasn't hard to deduce there was only so many people who could pull something like this off. Maybe even only one. After all Flotsam had been through with that person it was one more beautiful portrait of a landscape to view, a past picture, an image pulled to the now. She was in control. That felt so good inside somehow even if they weren't part of whatever path she had to follow to make that happen. That's all that went through Valerie's head. They'd not seen anything this grand that wasn't destructive from them since they were a teenager aside from the Battle of the Star People, but that of course was also destructive.

She didn't want to be a monster. Part of Flotsam had the same mentality. Except he embraced the monstrosity within. She learned to love the monster within herself. Maybe Elsa wouldn't think of it that way, but that's all Valerie could see from their experience with all this, and it was one of the most beautiful winter scenes they'd ever seen just because of it. The dangerously beautiful in the most delicate ways. Elsa's voice came into her head when she said. "I see you" to Valerie. It was something that mattered to Valerie on so many levels. She kept that one locked inside special. As Valerie looked out at this magnificent display, she said it softly to herself, "I see you, girl. I see you."

Then she kept walking with Thomas on. Then she'd see Elsa out there. She'd try to wave goodbye despite the large distance between them. Then Valerie would use sign language to pass an I. C. and pointed at her before walking on curled into Thomas. She didn't know if Elsa would even understand the reference or how much that meant to Valerie or what Valerie might be referring to seeing in her, but it was something the Flotsam in them, and Valerie in them just naturally had to pass on.

They'd travel to the inn.

The Inn was one of the places left alone in Feral. It was more or less left as it was pre-Feral. However, Kuzco, Piper, and Maddy had done a lot of altering. It had become Feral's main hub for most imports and exports since there weren't that many guests coming and going to use the rooms. However, ever since Frank started in on letting some randoms in there have been a few people attempting to use the place like a modern society still exists striving to not be lost to the void of abandoned homes in the ghost town left behind. So, the couple that ran the inn did extend the business to the building next door which wasn't a big deal. It was obviously empty too and started to use that for the post office and reverted The Inn back to mostly Inn mode. Call it an extended business model.

All that said, to see Thomas and Valerie walk in, actual guests, this was a grand day for them. So, they'd be treated like VIP guests from the moment the door would open. If anything, they'd get the kind of treatment they get when going to their favorite hotel in New Zealand only they weren't regulars here. They'd act like they were celebrities though. That's how slow business was. They mostly dealt in pizza orders to Funky Town.

Now when Valerie entered the room they were given and gave it a good look over she wasn't disappointed per sae. It was just another blast from the past. Everything about the room said Nola to her.

It was plain and cold. From the hard floors to the brick walls. Even the sheets. The place could use a little jazzing up. She thought to herself the Motel 6 at least put in some tacky photographs to liven the place up. But Nola often had that appeal, the bland and mysterious. Good craftsmanship, architecture with story and history, but to the eyes in her opinion rather cold. It was a rather sad room actually. At least it was until her joy of the night walked into it. There was however an actual chill from the room not being used in some time.

She looked over at Thomas and plopped down in her dress as the most colorful thing in the room, with all her fluffy black and orange, and bright eyes. She wanted to lounge around in whatever she had on underneath sounded just fine to her.

"I'm dying to get out of this thing, love. Help me get the back?"

Then she turned her back to him so he could help her with the zipper so she could be comfortable for the night. This was also when Scout's texts would start coming in for Thomas about whether to eat people or grind people into dust or not in Feral.

Valerie's magic shared sight wasn't focused. Sure, her kids were there behind her eyes somewhere, but with enough practice it was easy enough to zone it out when she wanted to focus on her own window to her own life. So, nothing out of the blue was garnering her attention enough to jar her out of her dazey evening yet. The kids blasting zombies hardly felt like a cause for alarm.

“It’s totally fine, love,” Thomas said, keeping close to Valerie as they started to walk into the night. Going down the mountainside. It was more chilly out here than expected, and unknown to them, it was Elsa on the other side towards the beach, creating something beautiful for Bastien’s and Maddy’s eyes. “Being here makes me want to take you back to our old home too.”

He loved their new house, obviously. It was entirely theirs. No Cinderella. No Jetsam either, other than the small hints of him that were here and there, mostly in Scout’s room. The twins were grown up and with their own houses, so there were pieces of them too but not as big as there had been in the house that they had grown up in. But he did still like the original house, because it was there that he had met Valerie for the first time, where he had seen her all dolled up and performing an Amy Winehouse song, and where he fell in love with Flotsam, and where they planned a war on goddamn Star People and WON. There were a lot of good memories associated there.

He was just thinking about taking off his jacket and putting it around Valerie’s shoulders, give her that extra warmth, maybe even offer to carry her down the mountain with those high heels that she was wearing, when something, or rather, someone, seemed to capture her attention.

Eeyore - now that was a name that he hadn’t heard in quite some time.

His own blue eyes settled on his former pan-pal. They had seen each other a couple of times in person since those letters all that time ago. He still had a few, he thought, tucked away into one of the boxes of sentimental things that he had brought from NOLA during the move over to New Zealand. They weren’t the rough kind of sentimental. He hadn’t had a falling out with the guy.

He lifted up a friendly hand up to Eeyore, a boyish grin on his own face. “Hello, my writing friend. Nice to see you.”

He really hadn’t thought too much about Eeyore in the past couple of years, he was loathe to admit. Hadn’t really thought about where he might have ended up. He knew that the boy was close with Cinderella, and probably had been grieving her loss but… well, not much other than that. He felt a bit bad about it. Of course the poor boy was deceased, but he did look happier now than he had ever seen him. That counted for something, right?

Oh. Poor boy. Poor, poor boy. Didn’t even realize what he was. Without asking Valerie, he was following her line of thought. It was probably better not to push that point.

He gave a little chuckle at Valerie’s cover. “Thomases can’t fly either,” He added. “Though with this lovely lady by my side, sometimes it feels like anything is possible.”

He put his arm around his wife, pulling her in closer, and kissed her cheek as he says this, and then notices her chill. Without a word, he pulls off his jacket and settles it around her shoulders, able to take that bit of a chill. “There you go, love. Let’s get you to the inn and we can…” He raised his eyebrows. “Warm up together.”

[allylikethecat]

I would absolutely love to read your take on number 21 and 29, Matty and George (obviously) 😍

Yay!! Thank you for sending in these wonderful prompts! I decided to fill them as two separate responses. I hope that's okay! As always, I am having so much fun with these!

I also want to put a disclaimer / warning on #21 just in case. I decided to project my own body image issues onto Fictional!Matty (sorry Fictional!Matty) so, proceed with caution if that is something that any of you lovely people find upsetting 😊

❤️Ally

21. Kiss ... on a place of insecurity.

Matty felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs, he started sweating, panicking as he did another little shimmy hop, trying and failing to suck in his stomach. It was no use, there was still a good inch and a half between the button and the hole of his jeans, and no matter how he twisted, or contorted his body, he couldn’t get the pieces of fabric to overlap. Rationally, he knew he had gained weight over the last ten years. He had an arse now, a little bubble butt George liked to tease him while giving it a smack, but he hadn’t realized just how much weight he had gained.

The jeans he wore now,  the fabric clinging to his arse and thighs, unable to be buttoned, and digging into his sides had been too big for him when he left for rehab. His eyes welled with tears and he tried to blink them away. He knew he was being proper ridiculous. He was thirty four years old, he had gotten this particular pair of jeans when he was twenty four years old, a skeletal drug addicted child. Of course his body was going to change, of course they weren’t going to fit now. He took a deep breath. It just had never occurred to him he wouldn’t even be able to button them.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” George called, still sprawled out on the end of the bed, flipping through a music production magazine, right where Matty had left him. 

“Kinda,” Matty called back, wincing at the way his voice cracked. He turned to look at himself in the full length mirror, thankful for his bougie walk in closet, taking in the way the black fabric was stretched tight over the curve of his ass, the way the waistband dug into his sides giving him the appearance of love handles. The fans were going to be disappointed, he thought hysterically. 

He might claim to be off social media, but he had seen the tweets, he had seen the way they wanted him to wear “the jeans” and the Robbers shirt for Reading and Leeds. They were playing their debut album in full, they were using the old band logo to promote the appearance, the band’s social profiles were plastered with photos from that era. Though he tried to pretend otherwise, Matty knew he was a nostalgic fucker. Once he had seen the Tweet, he couldn’t get the idea out of his head. He wanted to wear the jeans and an old pair of Chelsea boots and while he might not have the Robbers shirt anymore, he still had an endless collection of slutty, gauzy, black button downs. 

He had lost the Robbers shirt ages ago. He was pretty sure he had actually thrown up on it in a parking lot in Arizona and George had left it on the curb, not wanting to bring it with them into the rental car as he tried to maneuver his semi conscious body into the vehicle. But he still had the jeans. They were in a plastic bin in the back of his walk in closet, packed away for safekeeping. It had felt weird to keep them, especially with the changing of times and the evolution of his personal style, but Matty hadn’t been able to bring himself to part with them, lugging them from Shoreditch to Hackney and now Queen’s Park. 

He wished he had donated them when he had the chance. He wished he hadn’t kept them. He wished he had lost the storage bin or left it at his mother’s house. He never would have made the trek up to Manchester for a pair of jeans. He would have ordered another pair online, in his current size, and he would have been none the wiser that the original pair no longer fit him. He wouldn’t be overcome with such an overwhelming wave of self consciousness. 

He still took his shirt off on stage, he still pranced  around with his shirt unbuttoned. Hell, half the time he was shirtless in his own home, they were having a heatwave in London and despite what he paid for his concrete sanctuary, the air was dodgy. His chest felt tight, and he wished he hadn’t left his phone on the bed next to George, tossed there when he announced he was going looking for the perfect outfit for Reading and Leeds. He needed to google what the fans were saying. He needed to check Twitter and Reddit, TikTok and Instagram and Tumblr, he needed to see if they had noticed. He was sure they had noticed, they noticed everything else about him. Of course they would have noticed that he gained weight. He just wondered why no one in his personal life had told him. He hadn’t even realized Patricia had been buying his trousers in a larger size until this particular moment. 

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” George said, stepping into the closet and leaning against the door frame to give Matty a leer, taking in the juicy curve of his arse. Matty turned away from the mirror and instantly burst into tears, wrapping his arms around himself to hide his stomach and the way he wasn’t able to button the jeans.

“Whoa,” said George, rushing forward, “Whoa, what’s wrong?” 

“Don’t touch me, I’m disgusting,” Matty said with a hiccup and George took a step back, blinking at him in confusion. 

“What?” he asked, bewilderment coloring his voice.

“They don’t fit,” he said, his voice small and wet as he looked up at George. 

“What doesn’t fit?” George asked, not following.

“My fucking jeans! The jeans! The ones the fans want me to wear! For Reading! Because we’re doing Self-Titled! They don’t fit anymore!” Matty said feeling hysterical. “I gained weight and now my fucking jeans don’t fit!”

“Matty,” said George softly, taking a step forward, to pull Matty into his arms. “Matty, love, those jeans are ten years old, I’d be worried if they did fit you still.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Matty asked, his voice muffled by George’s tee shirt, his tears staining the fabric with salt. 

“It means,” said George, pulling back to kiss Matty’s forehead. “That you were two stone underweight when you bought those jeans.” He pressed another kiss to Matty’s chest, in the center of his tattoo. “It means that I thought we were going to lose you in those jeans.” 

“Stop,” Said Matty, trying to squirm away, he didn’t want George to touch his stomach. He didn’t want George to look at it. 

“Nope,” said George, dropping to his knees to bring his lips lower. “It means that you’re healthy now, that you’re hot as fuck, and I can’t believe that out of all the beds in the world, you share one with me.” 

Matty flushed, cheeks and ears burning red as George kissed his stomach, licking along the waistband of the jeans where they were digging into his flesh, mouthing at the V between the two sides that wouldn’t button, nosing along the exposed waistband of his pants and nipping at his We are Kings tattoo. 

He hooked his thumbs into the belt loops and tugged, Matty wanted to die at the way they snagged over his arse, the stiff denim not wanting to yield to the curve, before they caught around his thighs. The discomfort and embarrassment killed the spark of arousal that George had been generating in his stomach. As if sensing that Matty wasn’t in the mood, was still feeling vulnerable, George rocked back onto his heels and looked up at Matty, his own arousal darkening his eyes. 

“I love you,” he said, before leaning forward again to bury his face against Matty’s stomach, and turning his head to kiss along the irritated, red indentation left on his side. Tentatively, Matty ran his fingers through George’s short buzzed hair. 

“I love you too,” he said softly.

29. Kiss…as a promise

It was raining. Because of course it was raining, they lived in London. It was always raining. But of course it was raining when Matty decided to show up on George’s doorstep, soaked to the bone, curls plastered to his forehead. Because despite being born and raised in the UK, despite having lived through more rainy days than sunny ones, Matty was always caught off guard by a rain shower. 

He was always surprised that it was raining. He would look up at the sky in confusion, the droplets sticking to his eye lashes like he couldn’t understand how the weather could possibly betray him in such a way. He had been sick constantly when they were children, always coming down with a cold after being caught in the rain.

It wasn’t that he didn’t own a rain jacket, it wasn’t that he didn’t own an umbrella or rain boots. He just never thought he would need it. He never thought to bring them. Despite his cloudy moods, it was always sunny in Matty’s mind. George wondered what his excuse was today, his justification. It had rained all night, and continued on into the morning. There was no way the rain was a surprise today. 

But it was only fitting then that it was raining now, that it was raining when he showed up on George’s doorstep like the hero out of a romance novel trying to win back the heroine. George wasn’t sure if he counted as a heroine. George wasn’t sure if wanted to be won back. (He wanted to be won back.) 

“What do you want, Matthew?” George asked, purposely keeping his voice flat and monotone, purposely not opening the door wide enough, purposely keeping Matty out in the cold rain, while he stood on the landing in a pair of basketball shorts and socks, the heat from his fireplace warming his back. 

He crossed his arms over his bare chest, watching Matty’s throat work as he swallowed hard, looking up at him from a few steps down. He blinked and shook his head, water dripped from his curls like a dog after a bath. George fought to keep from smiling at the mental image, it was like Matty as a naughty puppy having been caught chewing on his master’s shoe or having pissed on the carpet.

“Any time now,” George said again, he knew he was being an asshole, but he was getting a chill from the open door, and the water was inching closer to his socks. Everyone knew that wet socks were the worst feeling in the world. Matty was shivering, though he didn’t seem to be aware of the fact. The white button down he wore had gone translucent, showing off the distinct dark lines inked into his body. George could see his nipples dark pink and erect. He was sure to have been a sight to see on the tube ride. George wondered if he was here as Matty Healy, George’s oldest and closest friend, or Matty Healy the character on stage. 

George resisted the urge to tap his foot impatiently. If Matty was going to apologize, he needed to get it over with. Rolling his eyes, George went to shut the door, he wasn’t going to play this game anymore. He was tired, it was raining, he wanted to go back to his warm sitting room and continue watching Yellowstone. He was paying extra to stream it now that they were no longer in the states. 

“I’m sorry,” Matty said, his voice low and rough, something about his tone caused George to pause. 

“Excuse me?” he said, opening the door again. He had been waiting for an apology, but he hadn’t expected one.

Matty took a step forward, climbing the first step. “I’m sorry,” he said again as if he was testing the taste of the words on his tongue. “I’ve been a fucking twat and I’m sorry.” 

He ran his fingers through his curls, sending more water droplets flying as he took another step forward. There was only one brick step between them now. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I hurt you, I’m sorry that I embarrassed you, that I undermined everything that we stood for. I’m sorry that I’m so fucking selfish that I’m still standing here telling you I’m sorry because I love you more than I love breathing. I’m sorry that I put my foot in my mouth and I don’t think before I speak, and I make everything about me, and that I never learned how to take responsibility for my actions and-”

“Stop,” George said, running his own fingers through what little close cropped hair he had left, a nervous habit that he doubted he would ever break. “Please, just stop.” 

“But George-” Matty said, his voice taking on a breathless, desperate tone, he was crying George realized, he wondered if Matty had been crying the whole time. His saltwater tears mingled with the rain like the sky was crying with him. 

“Just stop.” said George, trying to make sense of the apology, trying to unravel it, trying to get to the bottom of it, trying to understand if that really was, what it was. He was stuck on the three words Matty had said, replaying in his mind like a scratched record on repeat. I love you. I love you. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you.

He stepped out of the doorway, down the step, so that he and Matty were now standing on even footing. It was still raining and his socks were getting wet. I love you.

“I love you too,” he said, surprising even himself with the way his voice cracked on the words. Matty looked up sharply, his eyes wide, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I love you too.” George said again, reaching forward tentatively to brush Matty’s soaking hair out of his eyes. 

For someone that was filled with too many words, for once Matty was speechless as George leaned down and gently pressed his lips warm to Matty’s cold ones. It was their first kiss. It felt like a promise.

[waywardstation]

WIP FRIDAY

I apologize for getting this out two days late, I’ve been busy with lots of packing and events! But I have a little reprieve, so I wanted to post another WIP; this one is from Heart Full, Bowl Empty.

BE AWARE THAT THIS SEGMENT INVOLVES A CONVERSATION REVOLVING AROUND UNWILLING BUT INTENTIONAL STARVATION. I know there are people who say they can’t read this fic because of themes like this, so be aware of this before reading this WIP!!

I included this snippet in today’s WIP because I have like three versions of the entire segment this snippet is from. I feel like it’s a really important segment with a really important conversation, and I’ve had a hard time balancing all the emotions the way I want to between Ingo and Akari, with frustration, sadness, anger, and empathy, to realistically get them to the resolution I want at the end of it.

The final version will probably only include a few parts from this particular segment.

Enjoy!!

—————

“I knew it! You’re doing it again!” Akari’s eyebrows scrunched, trying to understand through the frustration. “You said you wouldn’t!”

“Circumstances will improve soon.” Clearly done with the conversation, that was all Ingo said, but it was confession enough that he had fallen back on his word. Shame contaminated his voice, but if there was any regret, he hid it well.

“No, it won’t!” They were not even half-way through winter yet. “And you know it won’t!”

Ingo said nothing as the kits carefully moved around his slumped form, finding comfortable places to settle around him. She didn’t know if he intended to snuff the conversation out with angered silence, or if he was just too exhausted to care about arguing with her anymore. If it wasn’t for his small occasional signs of movement or acknowledgement, she’d think he was actually sleeping.

Akari carefully stepped into the nesting layers, moving to sit down next to Ingo. She settled with her back against the cavern wall, pulling her knees close as a few kits shuffled around to accommodate her. “You know I’m right.”

Huffing out an irritated sigh and nothing more, it didn’t seem like Ingo had any intentions to engage with her argument anymore.

“You couldn’t even pull yourself up over the ridge,” She prodded at him again, trying to motivate more conversation out of him. “I had to help you!”

“There are many, many factors that go into that.” A reluctant answer, perhaps a reflexive attempt to quell her worry; Ingo feebly rubbed his wrapped hand, almost as a display for his excuse.

“I’ve seen you do more when you’ve been hurt worse.” Akari retorted, a little softer now but still cold.

Ingo’s eyes remained closed, though his hardened expression implied that it came across as more accusatory than she’d intended. But perhaps it was precisely the time to be accusatory.

“Ingo, you’re so tired all the time now – you stopped coming to the training grounds because you just can’t make the trips all the time anymore! And you’re sleeping so much more than you used to, and it’s like you’re always hungry all the time, even though all I see you doing anymore is gathering food!” Akari’s voice grew more jagged as she continued to jab at him, entirely uninterrupted.

It was getting difficult. With Ingo’s tunic still sopping by the bucket, still somewhat red from the exhausted effort of washing out the blood, it could not hide the ribs that pressed out just a little bit more, or help fill out what the waistline had lost under the loosening belt. The abject dread of directly acknowledging that was too much.

“And- and look! You aren’t even willing to hold a conversation with me anymore, and I don’t know if it’s because you just won’t, or because you can’t!” The kits shifted uncomfortably as Akari retreated back into her own frustration instead. “People think you’re sick, Ingo! They’re asking me about you! What are you doing?”

The exhausted man remained where he laid in the nesting material, only moving his hands to rub at his face and sigh — a deep, forced sigh that swelled his side before releasing. Akari almost didn’t think he’d answer her, but with some effort, he propped himself up first onto his elbows, then slumped forward. The teen watched him run shaky fingers through his hair as he sat next to her.

“…I don’t know what I should do.” The guilt. The weary guilt cracked his voice and tore Akari’s anger down to heartache.

[quietwingsinthesky]

.

[wonder-worker]

"...Walsingham, the monastic author of the St. Albans Chronicle, was by far [Alice Perrers'] harshest contemporary critic, who in his venom has (somewhat ironically) left us with the longest and most detailed account of her background and personality, her influence as Edward’s mistress, and her subsequent trial. He describes Alice as a shameless lowborn meretrix (a word variously translated as mistress, whore, or harlot), who “brought almost universal dishonour upon the king’s reputation […] and defiled virtually the whole kingdom of England with her disgraceful insolence.” Although Walsingham was not always accurate and, specifically in this case, clearly heavily biased against Alice, he nevertheless provides a truly contemporary account, and his importance as a source should not be underestimated. Likewise, the anonymous monk of St. Mary’s York recorded that in the Good Parliament the Commons (represented by their speaker, Sir Peter de la Mare) stated that it “would be of great gain to the kingdom to remove the said dame [Alice] from the presence of the king both as a matter of conscious and of the ill prosecution of the war.” During the same assembly, the bishop of Rochester, Thomas Brinton, preached from St. Paul’s Cross that “it is not fitting nor safe for all the keys of the kingdom to hang from the belt of one wife.” Although the word wife (uxoris) is used, it is widely accepted that this is a reference to Alice.”

-Laura Tompkins, '"Edward III's Gold-Digging Mistress": Alice Perrers, Gender, and Financial Power at the English Royal Court, 1360-1377", "Women and Economic Power in Premodern Courts" (edited by Cathleen Sarti). Italics by me.

[dutybcrne]

From a very young age, Kaeya held such a fondness for handholding. Whether it was his father clinging tightly to him to make sure he didn’t get lost, Adelinde’s gentle, grounding hand closed over his to comfort him whenever his nerves got the better of him, Crepus’s rough-palmed, firm yet comforting grip as he brought him back home, or, as it was most often of all, Diluc’s warm, yet at times uncomfortably tight hold as he dragged him anywhere, everywhere, determined to always keep Kaeya close and eagerly show him all there was to see, Kaeya treasured the gesture greatly.

Of course, being as shy as he was, initiating it himself was always the harder part. So much so, he would tend to hold pinkies, rather than outright take a person’s hand in his own. Eventually, it would become his most common way to go about the gesture of affection.

[transdimensional-void]

.

[obstinaterixatrix]

oh I really liked this one but I can’t really pin down what made it stand out to me. more drama/tragedy… it feels more self-aware in a way? I like how dulled some of the emotions are portrayed.

[nomairuins]

i do need 2 work on rewiring my brain so that my immediate very first thought whenever i dont do a small task (like brushing ny teeth taking a shower picking up my room etc) isnt 'We Should Kill Connor ." this would be pretty good for me to do. putting this on the list

[verystressedcollegestudent]

if there's one thing i hate more than slackers in group projects its goddamn hypocrites

[pepperyduck]

this is love ft. kento nanami

a/n: a few sappy slices of life with my main man :3 enjoy as i dig up motivation to finish kinktober. 18+ mdni!

"honey?" kento's voice is muffled through the door as he calls out to you, "everything okay?" the door rattles as he tries to open it, knob jingling.

"uhm, yeah! everything's fine!" you nervously shout, much too loud, and rush to unplug the iron that had melted your husband's favorite shirt. you panic and yelp when the hot iron scorches the side on your hand, throwing the stupid device to the ground in a clatter.

"why is the door locked—are you okay?" he asks, voice becoming more concerned as he hears the movement inside.

"i'm—i'm fine! promise! just give me a minute!" you're rushing into your shared master bathroom to run cold water over your hand, and kento’s using a screwdriver pulled from thin air to break into your bedroom. tears well in your eyes when you catch the sight of kento seeing his favorite shirt burnt and melted to his own ironing board. "i’m so sorry…"

in reality, he doesn’t care about the shirt—he’s already at your side to inspect your burnt hand. after a few seconds, he speaks.

"did you try to iron my shirt for me?" nanami asks, a small smile on his face, "you didn’t have to do that." he turns off the faucet and takes a small towel to dry your hand off.

"i tried to, i’m sorry—i didn’t know it would do that." you apologize, looking down at the cold tile flooring in defeat.

"oh, honey." he coos, "it’s only a shirt."

"have you seen your father?" you ask your son, yū, who’s sat at the dining table, eating breakfast. he shakes his head no, and when you look at your daughter, mayu, she does the same.

"jeez," you grumble to yourself, bedroom slippers pattering down the hallway as you go to search for your husband. saturday mornings were his time to sleep in, but realistically, he never slept past 9am. and currently, it was nearing 10am.

you check everywhere. he isn’t found in the bedroom, living room, his office, the garage, the patio or in the little garden he kept. upstairs, downstairs, everywhere, he isn’t there. and when you check in your bedroom for the last time, you hear a soft buzzing coming from the bathroom. upon entering, you see your husband bent over the counter, leaning close in the mirror as he shaves his stubble with an electric razor.

"there you are—when did you get that?"

kento had always been a clean shaven kind of man, going to a barber shop once every two weeks for his straight razor shave. it hadn’t even crossed your mind he didn’t go after work yesterday.

but when he looks at you—you burst out laughing. he’d shaven most of his beard off, but a few fuzzy patches remained on his cheeks, along with a mustache grazing his upper lip. peach fuzz and a few knicks litter his chin. this was the first time you’d seen him unable to do anything perfectly. and he looks ridiculous.

"is it really that bad?" he groans, pouting when you wrap your arms around yourself in a giggling fit. you shake your head, although your unforgiving laughs are a testament to the opposite.

"no—no, let me help," you say after calming down.

after gathering a new razor and some shaving cream, you sit atop the counter and your husband stands between your legs. kento is surprised how flawlessly you shave his face, without creating any more marks or cuts. you giggle and kiss him, getting some shaving cream on your face.

"ken?" you shout from the kitchen, where you’re sat, working on your dissertation. it’s been a long road of blood, sweat, and many, many tears; but you’re finally getting towards the end. about to earn a doctorate.

"yes, darling?" kento replies, walking into the kitchen on queue, his timing impeccable.

"can you read over this paragraph, please?" you kindly ask of him, pointing to your most recent written paragraph. he leans over you, planting one firm palm on the table, the other on your back; his eyes read along the sentences and his fingers tap along your spine.

"ah," his finger becomes more focused on a certain word, "wrong 'there', honey."

"no it's not..." you instantly retort, squinting your tired eyes to read over your writing. and you're right, it was the correct one the first time. this was his version of teasing you. but kento couldn't keep up the face much longer before he's giving in with a shit-eating grin you didn't see that often. "you're funny." you groan as kento stands back up.

after reading over the paragraph for about the nineteenth time, you notice kento silently slipping you some tea before turning back around to keep himself busy with cleaning. you absentmindedly take a few sips, then some more...and you find yourself becoming more and more sleepy...

and you're out like a light, forehead pressed directly against the table as a puddle of drool forms on the papers below. kento already has a warm blanket straight from the dryer to drape over you, and you stir just enough to get comfy on your arms.

kento knows that his back will hurt in the morning, but he sits around the corner of the table next to you, settling his head into his arms to drift off to sleep alongside you.

music of your taste plays rather quietly in the kitchen. you stir the pot of soup and inhale the flavorful aroma that wafts through the air.

kento sets two bowls next to the stove, then rummages through your silverware drawer to find two spoons. the kids are at their grandparents for the weekend, it's only you and your husband, converted into the duo you were long ago.

you step away from the stove to go fill up two glasses of wine, the brand kento had as his favorite had slowly turned into your favorite over time, too.

kento fills up the two bowls to the brim of the delicious food, grinning on the inside at the simplicity of it all. just you and him. he lids the pot with the matching glass top and makes his way over to the table.

you set out place mats for the both of you, then place the wine glasses in their prospective areas. kento places the bowls on top of the mats as you grab the spoons from the counter.

in the kitchen, your bodies subconsciously dance around each other. carefully, in perfect tune and pace. delicate steps of a routine formed over so much time together.

in the universe, your souls are tied, striding alongside one another in each lifetime repeated.

and this, is love.

[bbyseok]

expanding on this post, where you kiss gojo and he starts floating

gojo satoru x gn!reader

you’re greeted with the light of dawn streaming in, and the tickle of white tufts of hair against your chin. satoru’s body is curled close, one of his arms and his legs thrown over you.

it’s not the first time you’ve stayed overnight in gojo’s dorm room, but this is your first time staying over now that you’re a couple. it had been like any other night, but more meaningful touches and a shared buzz of warmth in your chests. and you had fallen asleep in his bed, entangled with his coziness.

but it’s morning now, and you know you should probably leave before yaga finds out you’re not in your own dorm. so somehow, you manage to wring yourself free from satoru’s grasp, even though he mumbles sleepily in complaint.

you can’t help but scoff fondly, peering down at him. his hands feel around in the space you had just been, a groan resonating from his chest as he blearily squints.

a small laugh creeps out of you then, “g’morning, ‘toru.” you bend down to brush your lips against his fleetingly, “i’ll see you in class later.”

when you leave his dorm and hear a soft ‘thud’, you think nothing of it. but it’s only a few steps down the hallway that you realize that you left your uniform jacket hanging on the edge of satoru’s bed.

so you head back, knocking twice on the door to let him know about your presence before opening it.

only to see that your boyfriend that you had left on the bed just moments ago was no where to be seen.

your brows furrow. “satoru? where are you?”

“up here, darling.”

and then your gaze flits up, up, up, just above the mattress. it’s gojo, on the ceiling, looking disheveled with his bed hair a mess, a sheepish grin on his lips.

“uhh, satoru?” you approach the bed, no longer concerned about your jacket as you stare up at him. “what’re you doing up there?”

he blinks down at you. “i woke up.”

you snort. “get down.”

“…i can’t.”

there’s a pause of silence, a period of staring at each other. you’re even more confused. “what do you mean you can’t?”

“i just can’t!”

it’s too early for this, and you’re sure that your chance of being discovered by yaga has shot up by a considerable amount.

“gojo satoru. just deactivate your technique.”

he pouts down at you. “you don’t think i tried that? i don’t know what happened, okay? i woke up from head-butting the ceiling, and even worse, to you gone without a word!”

it’s funny, how he’s much more upset about the fact that you had left him in bed alone rather than the fact that he’s stuck up there.

and it’s also really funny that he was sleepy enough that he didn’t remember you kissing him farewell not even five minutes ago.

“‘toru,” you laugh, shaking your head, “i said good morning and i kissed you.”

aaand now he remembers. he blinks once, twice.

“oh.”

and this time, you burst into a fit of giggles, to which gojo dopily grins down at you — happy that he’s the cause of it, even if it’s because he’s a little silly.

“i can’t believe you still floated even with you still half asleep.” you say, inching even closer to the bed and tilting your head further back to look up at him. “can you seriously not come back down?”

usually after he gets kissed, you or someone else is there to ground him before he floats off, and if not, he regains his composure soon after.

satoru’s pout deepens, fumbling and adjusting his awkward position on the ceiling. “nope.”

with a groan, you toe off your shoes and move to stand on the bed, hands grasping at his shirt and tugging in an attempt to bring him down.

“ugh, come on.”

you try with his hands next, and he’s all too eager to twine your fingers together as you tug on them too. he still isn’t budging.

“babe..” he starts, and you hear his cheeky grin before you see it, “think you needa kiss me again.”

you give him a pointed look. “and why in the world would that work?”

“c’mon, trust me,” satoru pries with a slight whine, “you did this, maybe you can undo it.”

you blink at him incredulously. “i did this? it’s not my fault you turn into a balloon every time i-” you shake your head when he does nothing but stare pleadingly. “fine, fine.”

you lean up on wobbly toes to give him the second kiss of this morning. it’s short but sweet all the same, and gojo chases after your lips as you pull away.

“see, i told you it wouldn-”

satoru yelps and crashes down on top of you, the two of you landing smack down on the bed.

you groan, trapped underneath his weight. at least you know now to be extra careful with your kisses. you can feel him nosing at the underside of your jaw teasingly.

“heh, good morning to you too, sweetheart.”

[jeonsweetpea]

Will It Fit?

Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers

rating: explicit

description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…

word count: 6.7k

warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, JK is overly concerned with how big your dildo is, embarrassing moments from both parties, spanking, prone bone, creampie, confession scenes, 

a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! Asks and reblogs are much appreciated (I read them all!). Also, much love to @jkeuphoriadreamland for bouncing ideas around with me. 

“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.” 

The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away. 

“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.

“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.

“Unlock this door.”

You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his. 

“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.

“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”

Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response. 

“Sorry…” 

God, you sounded absolutely pathetic . 

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you. 

Fuck, was he always this hot when mad? 

You went back to your room after closing the door. Climbing into bed, you got under the covers and laid flat on your back deep in thought. The only reason you were masturbating in the first place was because your room was freezing cold. You thought the heater was fixed, but your room was somehow still the coldest one in the apartment. You knew you’d never be able to go to sleep at this rate, so you decided to do something that would tire you out and hopefully lull you into the rest you craved.

It was supposed to be simple. You, your hand, your phone, and sweet, sweet release. Damn Jungkook for interrupting you. It’s bad enough his room was nice and toasty while you were suffering. Yeah, you heard his loudass snores. You assumed he was deep in the REM cycle so how the hell did he catch your moans? Ugh.

If he was so annoyed with you, then he should have warmed you up instead!

You shook your head and got under the covers, groaning at your lewd thoughts. 

He’s my roommate. And he’s too good of a roommate for me to fuck things up. 

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”

Those words echoed in your mind. The way he changed his tone to a lower register with his Busan dialect slipping through was incredibly sexy. It was the perfect mix of frustration and anger and made your thighs rub together in want. Leaning over your nightstand, you opened the drawer and grabbed a velvet drawstring bag. Slipping off your pajama shorts, you pulled out your trusty dildo. Impatient, you closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook taking you right then and there. However, the moment you allowed the tip of the dildo to touch your entrance, all pleasure was lost. It was cold!

“Damn it…” you muttered. “I gotta warm it up. Ugh!”

You left your room in frustration and entered the bathroom, turning the sink on to the hottest setting and running it over your toy. 

This might’ve been the most desperate masturbation session you’ve ever had, but you didn’t care. This was all Jungkook’s fault!

The next morning was Saturday. You were eating your breakfast on the kitchen island while mindlessly scrolling on your phone when Jungkook came out of his room. As soon as you two locked eyes, you almost choked on your food and had to chug some water to calm down. The man, confused, ruffled his hair and watched you through drowsy eyes.

“Are you okay?” he said, followed by a yawn. 

You nodded as you beat your chest with your fist to get everything down. “Yeah… I just… didn’t expect you to be home. I thought you had work.”

“Oh,” He sounded more awake now. “I read my schedule wrong. Turns out I’m off every other Saturday now.”

“... Oh. Cool.”

He circled around the kitchen island to get to the fridge and you recalled last night’s events, mortified he had heard you. Should you apologize again? After all, you’re both two grown adults; there’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you didn’t say something now, that icky feeling would only fester inside you. 

“Hey Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” he said from behind the fridge door.

“About yesterday… I hope you can forget all about it.”

As the refrigerator door shut, you were greeted by the sight of the most adorable man sipping a carton of banana milk. His eyes were wide and brimming with curiosity from your words. 

“Did something happen yesterday? I was knocked out.”

You blinked at him twice. “Do you… not remember talking to me last night?”

“Hmm? I did? I was fast asleep, don’t remember a thing.” He took the seat next to you. “Why? What did we talk about?”

Pure relief washed over you like a tidal wave as you shook your head. “Oh, nothing much. My room’s a bit too cold. It was hard for me to sleep.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the landlord. Do you want to sleep with me?” You shot him an incredulous look and he began to stutter. “I-I mean! Sleep in my bed! Not with me in it. Unless you wanted to—ah—fuck me!

There. That’s the Jungkook you knew. He’s never crossed the line and flirted with you, so you didn’t either out of respect. But… It was too hard to resist teasing him. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“Unless I wanted to… fuck you?” you repeated innocently. This was new territory for you—teasing him. His flustered reactions were so damn adorable though. The way his nose scrunched and his eyes darted around everywhere except for your face. If anyone was watching you, they’d swore you had hearts in your eyes. 

He set his drink down and proceeded to cover his face with both hands, panicking at his poor choice of words. “That didn’t come out right. Oh god… this is embarrassing.”

You covered your mouth to stifle your giggles. “It’s okay. I don’t want to peg you—I mean, take your bed.”

Jungkook dropped his hands, speaking the next sentence in pouts. “Hey, I don’t want to be peg—not the point. No, seriously. My room’s really warm.”

“I mean… if you really want me in your room, all you have to do is ask, you know,” you remarked. Jungkook’s cheeks were flushed with a tinge of pink, adding an extra charming element to his already cute self. Were you being too bold? 

It didn’t matter because seeing how his lips trembled and how he could barely hold himself together was fun to watch.

“I didn’t realize it was that easy…” he mumbled, more to himself than you. You tilted your head at him and he noticed how you crossed one arm over another “Not that I’m calling you easy!”

“Uh huh. I’m watching you, Jeon Jungkook. Hmph.”

“No, wait. I’m sorry.”

You placed your index finger on his lips to shush him, even going so far as to tap his lip piercing teasingly. “Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” 

You watched as his eyes widened once more and that caused you to realize what you were doing. My god. Using his own words against him was satisfying, but all this newfound confidence was going to get you in trouble. You cleared your throat and withdrew your hand, grabbing your breakfast plate and heading over to the sink before things could escalate.

“Uh… I’m gonna go to the gym. Run some errands or something,” Jungkook stammered as he got up, nearly toppling out of his stool. You bit your lip to hold in your laughter as he recomposed himself. Walking in the same direction, he flinched when you got near his proximity. “W-What are you doing?”

He’s so cute when nervous.

“Nothing. Grabbing my keys. I’m heading out too.”

“O-Okay.”

Your smile made his heart rate escalate. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

You spent the day with your closest friends on a brunch date, followed by a trip to the mall, and then hot cocoa in the evening. It was much needed after the week you had and after bidding them farewell, you went back to your apartment. Upon entering, you took off your shoes and put them on the shoe rack.

“Jungkook? Are you home?” you called out. 

“Yeah! I just finished showering!” he called back in the distance. You went further into the apartment and plopped down on the couch. 

“Damn,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. “Wish I could have showered with him. It’s so cold outside…”

As if on cue, Jungkook called for you again. “[Y/N]? Could you come here?”

You took off your purse and slowly rose up from the couch, hesitant. This had to be a dream. Why would he need you to come to the bathroom? He must’ve forgotten a towel. Or a t-shirt. Or pants. The specifics didn’t really matter because your hormones were going berserk at the possibilities. 

You walked through the narrow hallway and stood in front of the bathroom door, excited at the thought of teasing him again. “I’m here. What’s up? Did you forget your towel or something? Silly boy.”

The door swung open and the shit-eating grin you had on your face dropped to the floor in an instant. 

“Why is there a dildo in the bathroom, silly girl?”

Shit. Quick, say something. Anything. Don’t just stand there like a gaping fish! Oh dear, how many seconds have passed? You must look like a total idiot.

Fuck! I forgot I left it here!!!

“Well…” you started to say, “I’m assuming it’s yours.”

Out of all the things your roommate could be calling you for, this was not on your radar. The awkwardness was more suffocating than the steam from his blazing hot shower minutes ago and you wished it lingered around long enough to make you disappear. 

Jungkook made a puckered face at your accusation, picked up the object, and shook it side to side, the bendy silicone material flopping everywhere. His big doe eyes were the highlight of his classic OJO face, the blatant confusion so adorable if you weren’t absolutely mortified. For the second time this week. 

God, and how could you even focus when he was dressed in nothing but a towel, his hair still slightly damp. The bulging muscles of his biceps were a feast for the eyes as well as his tattooed sleeve. You yearned for the day he’d use his arm as your necklace, but of course that shouldn’t be a priority at the moment. If anything, it was his fault you had to use a dildo anyway.

“[Y/N], you know damn well this isn’t mine.” He met your gaze and flashed you a soft smile, biting his lower lip. “I like mine bigger.”

You covered your face in shame, wishing the floor could open up and swallow you whole. “Good god, Jeon.”

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why is it in the bathroom?”

You gulped, finding enough strength to not die of embarrassment. “It’s getting colder outside and the heater doesn’t reach my room as well as it reaches yours. So…”

“Yeah…? But I’m not following.”

“The… thing in your hand—”

“Dildo?”

You visibly cringed. “Yes, okay, THAT. It got cold and I don’t like cold objects... Inside me. So I took it to the bathroom to run hot water on it to warm it up.”

“Before you use it?”

“No, to melt it. Yes, to use it!” you snapped, feeling the humiliation burning through your body. “I wasn’t aware you weren’t working today, remember? I clean it after each use so please just give it back!”

You ran over to yank it out of his hands, but he lifted it up high out of your reach. While cackling. That motherfucker. “Hey, maybe I want a turn.”

You had to bite back. “I knew you liked being pegged.”

“I do not!”

“Then give it back!”

“This thing is huge though. It fits?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You jumped up but failed to reach it due to his quick reflexes. 

“Doesn’t it hurt? Because if something this big went up my—”

“Jungkook!”

“I’m just saying!” he said with his arms up in the air like you were about to tase him. “I find it hard to believe, that’s all. It’s really big. Like damn.”

Without thinking, you ripped his towel off his waist and he gasped, scrambling to shield his privates while you seized the opportunity to get your toy back.

You stormed out of the bathroom and ran to your room, locking the door afterwards. Falling to your knees, the embarrassment caught up to you, causing you to hang your head low in shame. You could hear the soft shuffling sounds of his footsteps approaching your door, followed by a gentle knock.

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He pressed his ear against the door to hear small sniffles. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I was teasing, I thought you wanted to tease me back and—I guess I took it too far.”

“Go away, Jeon,” you said, throwing the dildo at the door. Jungkook nearly had a heart attack at the loud thump and jolted back, clutching his chest. 

“Holy shit, that scared me,” he said, which earned a small chuckle from you despite the tears. “Hey… come on out. Please. I’m not judging you.”

“No. I’m humiliated. You heard me yesterday and now caught me today. I can’t face you ever again. It’s over!”

He placed a hand on your door, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I didn’t even know we started, so how could we be over? You’re cute.”

That made you snap your head up. You quickly wiped away your tears and rose from the floor. “This isn’t fair… I’ve been embarrassed twice now.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You heard me masturbating yesterday!” you exclaimed, frustrated at his obliviousness. “You woke up and told me I had pretty lips or whatever and suggested we do something about it together!”

“I mean, you do have pretty lips. Yup. That sounds like me, yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I really don’t remember. Come on out. I wanna see you.”

“No.”

“Would it help if I shared something embarrassing about me?”

You narrowed your eyes at the door, considering his offer. “... Go on…”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… you know how I’ve been doing your laundry for you?” 

“Yeah…”

It was your most hated chore. Putting the clothes into the washer and dryer wasn’t your issue, but folding them was so tedious. So you and him made a deal. You were in charge of dishes and he would do the laundry. However, the one thing you refused to let Jungkook wash for you were your bras and panties. Those you handled yourself.

“You… left a pair of panties in my basket once by mistake.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. I washed them for you but um… before that, I might’ve… sort’ve… jerked off with them.”

Your doorknob jostled for a second as you unlocked it. Jungkook waited as the door swung open and was greeted by a displeased you, hands on your hips and all.  

“What? They were really pretty…” he added. “They were pink and had lace—”

“You… PERVERT!” you shouted, hitting his chest repeatedly. Of course, you were aware your feeble punches did nothing to his insanely toned pecs. Jungkook stared at you fondly, catching the hint of a smile that threatened to spill from your lips. 

“Oh, I’m a pervert? Says the girl who has an 8-inch dildo,” he countered, snatching both your wrists. 

“At least I’m able to take 8-inches!” you retorted, laughing at the situation. He joined in your laughter and then said,

“Good! That means you’ll be able to handle me!”

Your brain fizzled out at this point as the laughter subsided. “... What?”

Jungkook’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. “... You heard me. Go ahead, take off my towel again. See for yourself.”

He guided your hands downward to the soft fabric, which was already on the verge of unraveling itself with his prior movements. You stared at his pelvic lines, excitement bubbling beneath the surface while you tried your best to maintain a calm expression. 

“... Pervert,” you mumbled. Jungkook chuckled, taking one of your hands and placing it directly on his boner. 

“Maybe. But only you can make me feel this way.”

You bit your lip, feeling the heat radiating from beneath the fabric and your curiosity peaked. Tucking a finger into the towel, you pulled it down and let it fall to the ground. 

A loud squeal came from your lips as you covered your mouth. “Holy shit!”

Jungkook covered himself after seeing your reaction with both hands, embarrassment crawling up his spine. “Sorry, I’ll put it away.”

“No, no, no!” you said, putting your hands out in a stop motion. “Sorry, I just… you… you weren’t kidding.”

“Does it scare you?” His tone was sincere, his eyes genuinely showing concern. “Because… I don’t want to hurt you. And I know it can hurt. That’s why I was so curious about the dildo. Will it fit? Will I fit…?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how he phrased it, but quickly stopped when you noticed the fear in his eyes. Your thoughts wandered to if he had slept with someone prior and if it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Truth be told, you’ve never been with anyone as big as him so it’s all new for you.

“Well… if I’m prepared well enough, I can take it. The dildo fits but sometimes not all of it goes in. Um… man, this is embarrassing to talk about, ahhh. I feel like I keep making a fool of myself in front of you.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened at your vulnerability, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours if not more. Then he put his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you close. 

“That makes two of us. But you make me crazy.”

He was so close that your senses were intoxicated with the fresh scent of eucalyptus and cotton wafting off him. His eyes shifted to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze once more. 

“I really want to kiss these pretty lips of yours… If you’ll let me,” he said, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb and whispering the last part.

You begged him to kiss you already, so he leaned in and finally pressed his warm lips against yours as you closed your eyes. It started off as a gentle smooch, like a little tease to test the waters. When he pulled back, you leaned forward and chased his lips urgently. You felt him smiling into the kiss as he moved in tandem with you, deepening the kiss while switching positions to press you against a wall. One of his hands pinned your wrists above your head while his free hand slithered down the side of your body until it rested on your hip, giving you a firm squeeze.

“Jung—mmph—Jungkook…” you moaned. He used that chance to ease his tongue into your mouth and the kiss went from passionate to messy. When you moved your wrists in the slightest, he asserted dominance and pinned them back down into place. 

“You think I’m going to let you go so easily now that I have you?” he asked, the hunger in his voice evident. He carefully tugged your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled it back in a seductive motion, which turned you on even more. 

Once he broke the kiss, the only thing that remained was a string of saliva that broke seconds later.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he said in between pants.

“Since you’ve jerked off to my panties?” you teased while catching your breath.

He rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never rubbed one out to me before.”

You scrunched up your nose at his response, unable to counteract his statement right away. “Hey… I wouldn’t have had to rub one out if you warmed me up in this cold weather.”

He smirked. “All you had to do was ask, you know.”

Releasing your hands, Jungkook went into your room and grabbed the dildo off the floor. He left you for a short moment and you waited there, confused, until you heard the sound of running water. He came back a minute later and then grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom.

“Had to wash it. Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up properly for the real thing.”

He guided you to his bed and helped you remove your jacket, blouse, and leggings. His grin was extra toothy because the set you were wearing was the exact set he jerked off too before. 

“What?” you asked, amused.

“N-Nothing.”

When your back was turned for a second, he mouthed the words ‘Oh my god’ and pressed his hands together as if thanking the universe for this very moment.

Now left in your bra and panties, you laid on his bed and he climbed on top of you, his lips latching onto the side of your neck. You mewled at the sizzling contact, pulling him close by his soft locks so that his hot skin was pressed against yours. He trailed his searing kisses down to your collarbone and then settled between the valley of your breasts. 

“The bra is pretty… you’re so pretty,” he said, full of admiration. He pulled one of the cups down to gain access to your breasts, capturing your perky nipple between his lips. He sucked tenderly, swirling his tongue around before tugging on it hard enough to elicit a moan. His other hand was greedy, slithering into your already soaked panties. His middle finger dipped in between your folds and he rubbed in circular motions to coax some more slick out of you. 

As you arched your back and moaned his name, he dipped one finger into you and began to pump it slowly. He added another one when you begged for it, sounding so desperate that he had to oblige. 

“Please fuck me already. I can’t take it,” you breathed. Jungkook only curled his fingers deeper inside, grazing your sweet spot while shaking his head. 

“Patience, beautiful. I need to make sure your sweet pussy can take it, remember? Gotta prep you well.”

“But I can take it, I can, oh god please.” 

“If you’re a good girl for me. Can you take another finger?”

You nodded eagerly, so he added a third finger and you squeezed your eyes shut from the delicious burn. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, observing your expressions carefully. You clutched onto the pillow and panted heavily. 

“Y-Yeah, I—god—your fingers feel good…”

He began to finger you with all three digits, the tightness of your walls bringing some resistance to his actions. But with a few more neck kisses to relax you, it became easier and you became more undone. 

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered into your ear, his heavy breath tickling it. He finally removed his fingers and grabbed the dildo at the end of the bed, bringing up to your lips. 

“Show me what those pretty lips of yours can do.”

You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe on the toy in a tantalizing slow motion, causing Jungkook to grunt. That damn smile of yours was going to kill him. You were the perfect minx—sweet and naughty. He didn’t have to tell you to suck it because you already were. 

“Such a good girl. You’re going to handle my cock so well.”

He removed the dildo out of your mouth and reached into his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. You stared at it like it was foreign to you and Jungkook was quick to notice.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it. I know it.”

He chuckled, admiring your determination. “Still, I want to take my time.  Besides… it’s not every day I get to fuck someone so beautiful.”

He popped open the cap and squeezed a decent amount of lube onto the toy. Then he got back in between your legs and slowly began to insert it into you. You squirmed from the slippery, cold contact but Jungkook captured your lips into a deep kiss, igniting your body with fervor. 

He thrusted the dildo as deep as he could, stopping when there was resistance from your panties. Which you were more than thankful for because you already felt full. But then he began to pump it in and out of you at a steady pace, only accelerating when your moans became more constant. 

“Shit, shit,that feels so—“ Your words were swallowed by his lips and that stirred something within you, allowing Jungkook to easily glide the toy back and forth. He soon increased his speed, the obscene sounds your pussy was making the only thing that could be heard in the room. 

You broke away from the kiss and began tearing up from the intensity. 

“J-Jungkook, I think—“

You couldn’t, actually. Your orgasm crept up on you and made your entire body convulse. You shut your eyes to only see white, your ears were ringing, and your pussy surrendered to the pleasure. 

Jungkook removed the toy out of you gently and then kissed your sweaty forehead, giving you a bunny-tooth smile as you calmed down from your high. 

“Did you cum?”

You smacked his arm playfully. “Did I cum… pfft. No, actually. I’m waiting for a real man to make me cum. With a fat cock.”

“Well not to toot my own horn but…” He grinded his swollen cock against your thigh. “I think I meet the requirements.”

Now that things slowed down, this was the first time you really got to look at his cock properly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to prep you. It was as big as your dildo but much more girthier. It was a mouth-watering sight. 

Flipping the switch, you got on top of Jungkook this time. His eyes widened in surprise but then eased into a smile. You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Let me take care of you now.”

“But I want to fuck you so bad.”

“You can wait, darling. My pussy is yours.”

His dick twitched at that. You giggled as you got in between his thighs, stroking his member a few times to hear those cute, breathy moans of his. 

Will it fit…? God, I hope so.

“Are you afraid you can’t take it?” Jungkook asked with concern. Shit. Did you say that out loud???

“I can. I will.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t—“

“Jungkook,” you said, squeezing his dick tightly, almost like a warning. “I can take it like a good girl. And if not, I’ll tell you. Okay?”

He closed his eyes and nodded as you began to suck him off. There was no way you could take all of him in your mouth but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. You went as far as you could and stopped when your gag reflex kicked in. Using your hand to stroke the area you couldn’t reach, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head up and down. 

Jungkook’s abs clenched and unclenched at the action and he rested on his elbows to watch you. The way your bra cupped your breasts at this angle was enticing, your pretty lips working so hard to please him, and the view of your ass in those panties could make him cum right then and there. 

“Fuck, you’re so good at this—don’t stop.”

You smiled at the praise and continued, loving how he took a sharp inhale of breath when you cupped his balls. He put his hand on your head and pushed you down gently, not wanting to overdo it with his size. You controlled the pace, but he just wanted to touch you and admire you. 

“You’re too good to me…” 

You released his dick with a satisfying pop sound, kissing the tip and smiling. “Teach me what you like.”

“I love everything you do,” he said, grunting when you began stroking him again from the base to the tip. “Your hands are so much softer than mine.”

You stopped momentarily to spit on your hand before resuming your lewd actions and he threw his head back. 

“Fuck [Y/N]. That’s so hot.”

“Yeah? Have I been a good girl? Are you going to reward me?” He snatched your wrist, his eyes darkened and full of lust. 

“Can you handle it?”

You turned around on all fours, shaking your ass side to side to tempt him. “Take me, baby. Raw.”

His OJO face returned from your bold suggestion and you flashed him a wink. 

“I’m on the pill. Promise,” you informed. 

A burst of energy surged within him as he grabbed the bottle of lube and hurriedly squeezed some onto his cock. You giggled when he squirted a bit too much, haphazardly trying to divide it between two hands and spreading it evenly. But things turned serious when he grabbed your hips, yanking you closer to him.

He pulled your panties to the side and ate you out from behind first, loving how delicious your backside looked with them on. You moaned in delight and he placed a hand on your upper back, forcing your face down into the mattress. His tongue dipped into your folds and he flicked it on your clit a few times, loving the whiny sounds you were making. Then he pressed his entire mouth onto your pussy and sucked hard. 

You were overwhelmed with pleasure and were on the verge of cumming when he removed his mouth and replaced it with something else.

“Are you ready?” He teased his tip at your leaking entrance and you shuddered. 

“Yes, please fuck me.”

“Breathe baby. Relax as much as you can.”

You obeyed, feeling him push himself into you smoothly, knowing he prepped you more than enough. At least, that’s what you thought until he got in halfway. From there on, it felt like he was invading your walls and stretching you to new limits. 

There was a mild discomfort and Jungkook kissed your back lovingly to relax your tense muscles. You sighed and allowed him to bottom out, feeling the wind knock out of you when he did. 

“God!” you shouted, fisting his bedsheets. 

“F-Fuck… you feel amazing I—can I move? Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt… I just feel really full.”

“Okay,” he said in a restrained voice. “I’ll go slow.”

He gripped your hips tightly, like he needed something else to focus on or else he’d lose control and fuck the living daylights out of you. He eased himself out of you but only half way, wanting to savor your warmth a bit longer. Then he pushed himself back into you, making sure to go as slow as possible.

“Your ass looks amazing in these. You should wear them again.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of doing this with him again. “Maybe if you spank me.”

He stilled his hips. “You really want me to?”

You began rocking your ass back and forth on his cock. “Yeah. I’m not that fragile… I can take it rough when I want to.” You swore you felt his cock twitch at this. “Hmm, looks like that excited you. You wanna fuck me rough, Jeon?”

He delivered a spank on your cheek, the sensation sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. Your pussy tightened from this and it made Jungkook hiss. He spanked the other cheek and then both cheeks and you moaned, the slight pain distracting you from the girth of his big cock. 

“You think you’re in a position to be a brat?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up so you were on all fours again. Laying on top of your back, he whispered in your ear, “Do you know how badly I want to fucking ruin you?”

He bit the shell of your ear and you let out a content sigh as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reminded you. “But god, you feel so good. So tight. So slippery and wet. I just wanna have my way with you.”

You couldn’t wait anymore. “Please do. Make my pussy remember the shape of your cock. It’s yours to wreck.”

Jungkook got off your back and grabbed a nice fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, forcing your head up as he thrusted into you to the hilt. That feeling of being full hit you full force and you submitted, letting him rock his hips back and forth to the pace he deemed fit. He undid your bra with his free hand, letting the undergarment fall onto the bed as he cupped one breast.

Your moans came out unashamed and full of whiny desperation. The intensity was becoming too much, but it felt too good to stop. There was no more discomfort, only lust and the desire to be fucked so hard that it had your eyes rolling. And Jungkook was more than willing to deliver.

He then grabbed a nearby pillow and placed it under your stomach, pushing your back down until you laid flat. 

“I’m not sure, but I read this makes things feel better on Reddit,” he explained quickly as he helped remove your panties. “But let me know if you want me to stop.”

You’re smitten by the fact he cared this much about you but also trying hard not to laugh at how he admitted to going to Reddit for sex advice. He was too precious.

“I will.”

With your ass propped up higher thanks to the elevation of the pillow, Jungkook eased into you once more and you bit into your pillow. He started to slam his hips into you, gripping onto the headboard to steady himself. 

“Fuck!” you said through gritted teeth. 

“Am I going too fast?” he breathed, slowing down his thrusts.

“No, it’s okay. I want it. I want you.”

Your words unleashed his primal urges to finally give it to you. He shoved his cock deep inside you, each thrust making your ass jiggle, the sight so unbelievably sexy that he had to spank you again.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder!” you shouted. Jungkook laid on top of you, wrapping his bicep around your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek as he fucked you harder. You begged him to choke you and he obliged, squeezing your neck just enough to make you slightly dizzy. 

It was euphoric having that slight danger while being used for his pleasure. Your pussy tightened so much that Jungkook felt he was going to cum. 

He slowed the roll of his hips and then pulled out, quickly flipping you onto your back. Thanks to the pillow from earlier, your hips were propped up at the perfect height. 

“Spread your legs for me. Wider. Hold them open.”

You were so drunk on lust that you did everything he asked. He held onto your thighs and inserted his cock into you again, the new angle making your moans come out strangulated. He was so huge, you swore his tip was brushing against your cervix. Picking up the pace gradually, you took the abuse of his fat cock and screamed at how good it felt. 

“I can’t get enough of you,” Jungkook said through pants, wrapping a hand around the column of your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

His hips began to stutter and you felt your pussy growing sore from the stretch. Anymore and you’d be in tears. You wanted to cum too, so you snuck your hand down to your clit and rubbed in circular motions. Jungkook used the last remaining bits of strength to fuck you for a few more minutes, which was more than enough for you to reach your climax. 

Cumming a second time was more painful than the first time due to the over sensitivity. But somehow it was more enjoyable because you had never felt something so intense. Jungkook kept coaxing you with sweet words, promising he was almost finished. 

He rutted into you for the last few seconds, counting 3, 2, 1 before spilling his seed inside you. His body laid on top of yours, the two of you sticky and sweaty but it was comforting just being in his embrace. 

“Jungkook?” 

“Yeah?”

“Get off. We gotta pee.”

He laughed at your serious tone. “I think I need another shower. Care to join me?”

Your roommate literally just fucked your brains out 5 minutes ago. Why were you feeling self-conscious in the shower with him? It didn’t make sense!

With the hot water on, you took a deep breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Questions, comments, concerns?”

Oh my god, you had to marry this man. “Um… I think I’ll be sore for the next few days.”

“I’m sorry.

“Don’t be. I enjoyed it a lot.”

He turned you around, so that you were facing him. “Enough to do it again?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”

“W-Well… I mean—“

Look at him fumbling over his words. Adorable. “You’re such a pervert.”

“I can’t help it. You turn me on.”

You covered your chest, feeling shy. “Is that all I’m good for…?”

He immediately understood what you meant. “Of course not. Look at me,” he said while tilting your chin up. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”

Your lips curled into a smile. “Well I learned today that you jerked off to my panties and you count down before you cum.”

You couldn’t help but explode into laughter at his OJO face when he heard you say that. 

“Hey! I do it to let you know when it’s coming!”

“Yes sir,” you teased with a salute. “I appreciate your punctuality, sir!”

“Oh my god, you’re so cheeky.” He hugged you again and booped his nose into yours. “I like you. You know, when a boy likes a girl and they go out on a date and then—oh shit, I did things backwards.”

You giggled. “I think I prefer it this way. I like you too. I’ve… liked you for a long time.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because! I didn’t want to make things awkward. But I guess things ended up being awkward anyway…”

“Because you were masturbating to me?” 

He had such a proud smile on his face. 

“Whatever! Panty thief!”

“You left them there.”

“You should’ve told me!”

“I did!”

“After you had your fun! You are so—”

He gave you a surprise peck on the cheek to distract you. 

“Awesome?” He smooched you again. And again. You couldn’t help but giggle. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Mmhmm. So… do you want to stay in my room tonight?”

“As long as you warm me up.”

“Oh, for sure. I’m great at that.”

“Because of experience or Reddit?”

There was his OJO face again. “Hey~!”

I truly hope you enjoyed the fic! Thank you for giving my writing a chance. :) Also I have an AO3 if you're more comfortable commenting there. Thanks!